After hearing that Chad Johnson head-butted his wife the other day, this makes me feel a little bit better.
After hearing that Chad Johnson head-butted his wife the other day, this makes me feel a little bit better.
10,500 athletes from 204 countries are participating in the Olympic games this year. There are 302 events in 26 sports. That means there will be 906 medal winners, give a few people for teams, etc., maybe 1,300 people total. In other words, about 12% of athletes competing will win medals. 8% will win silver or gold. 4% will win gold. (Yes, I realize the math is a little fuzzy since people can win multiple gold medals, or multiple medals, and this is not a rare occurrence (see Phelps, Raisman, etc.), so assume these numbers are extra friendly.
I am so sick and tired of watching people give their all to a race or a competition and then bitch about getting a silver medal. Do you realize you’re the second best competitor in your sport in the world and in the top 8% of people in any sport in the world? Seriously. SERIOUSLY. Stop whining.
Sure, it’s disappointing to work very hard and, if your goal is a gold medal, not to win that. I get it. You’re a competitor and you want to be the best. But don’t sulk. I’ve seen so many people sulking at this Olympic games that it blows my mind. I watched nearly every girl on the Russian gymnastics team crying through the entire competition because they weren’t in first place. I’ve seen runners crying at the finish line because they didn’t cross it first. I’ve seen Mckayla Maroney with her arms crossed on the podium because she didn’t win gold in her signature event.
But I’ve also seen men congratulating their competitors on high bar who blew their own performances out of the water to push them to second place. I’ve seen Jamaican countrymen embrace each other after winning gold and silver in the 100m dash, their smiles lighting up the entire stadium. And then I saw this:
And to all the athletes who stand on the podium with a silver medal and are disappointed, you could take a lot of lessons from this young woman. It’s okay to be disappointed that you didn’t win the gold, but don’t cry about it. You are on the medal stand. Think about how many people who trained just as hard as you and who may not possess your natural aptitude for your sport, or not to the degree you have it, and are sitting in 4th, 5th, or 10th place. If you gave it 100% and you’re in second place, that’s okay. That’s still pretty damn good. If you made a mistake and you’re still on the podium, that’s even more amazing. It means you’re so good that even on your off days, you’re number two in the world. And sure, it’s okay to wish that you had done something different, stuck a better landing, run a little more evenly, made your turn in the pool a little bit smoother, but that’s nothing to cry about. It’s called motivation.
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There are lots of things I like about NBC. Brian Williams is awesome. Richard Engel is super badass. They hired Howard freaking Stern as a judge on America’s Got Talent. Bob Costas pretty much got Jerry Sandusky to confess on the air. Those are pretty awesome things.
“When you’re 17 years old and win your first gold medal, there’s nobody you’d rather share it with.”
The network had yet to show Franklin’s win when it ran the “Today” teaser that included this photograph of the teen sensation standing on the medal stand with the gold draped around her neck.
Not that anyone is (or should be) all that surprised, but evangelical Chick-Fil-A hates the gays. Okay, maybe that’s a bit strong–they hate the gays getting married. But, you know. Close enough.
In an article by the L.A. Times, Chick-Fil-A says it is “guilty as charged” and supports “the biblical definition of the family unit.”
Corporations need to stick to what they do best: making money and exploiting menial, part-time labor. Can all of them please get off the social issues bandwagon? Quite frankly, I don’t want to have to think about politics every time I bite into a burger or pop a french fry in my mouth. But you guys are making it goddamn impossible for me to enjoy something as pure and simple as a chickenFUCKINGsandwich.
Two years ago, you had Target and Best Buy giving money to candidates who adamantly opposed gay rights. In the wake of a public backlash, Target has done some pretty cool, pro-gay stuff, like carry greeting cards for same-sex couples. (YAY!)
I guess what I’m trying to say is that everybody, especially fast food joints, need to STFU and just let people be. I really don’t need a heaping serving of self-righteous bigotry with my chicken sandwich.
At the same time, I tend to disagree with Boston’s mayor, who, also according the the L.A. Times, plans to make it extremely difficult for Chick-Fil-A to set up shop there. Now, I’m all about individuals refusing to eat there for political reasons, but I think when you target specific companies for their political leanings (not that I think they should have any in the first place, but let’s take this for a given in today’s reality) and essentially ban them from your city, you’re on a slippery–greasy, if you will–slope. Dissenting opinions are part of democracy. There are going to be opinions out there that you don’t like, that are bigoted and insensitive, and that are just plain stupid. But that’s a risk you run when you enjoy a little right called freedom of speech. Don’t like Chick-Fil-A’s anti-gay agenda? Good, don’t buy their (in my opinion not all that fantastically tasty anyway) chicken. Run them out of town due to a lack of patrons. Don’t stretch existing laws because you disagree with their politics. That makes for a dangerous environment for anyone with a dissenting opinion, even leftist ones. I would much rather see a Chick-Fil-A open its doors in Boston and stand utterly empty. That would be a far more powerful message, coming directly from citizens, that we don’t like their homophobic bullshit. Actions by the city government could easily be dismissed as playing politics, etc. etc., but actions by the people themselves? That might just be something.
Dropping the “g” in words that end in “-ing” is often associated with being “folksy,” “common,” a “regular joe,” so to speak. Often you’ll hear politicians drop the “g” when speaking to crowds in what has been dubbed “real America” (which is really just a bastardization of “rural America” and no more or less “real” than any other part of the nation). Sarah Palin, perhaps, is one of the most notorious G-droppers, but Obama does this, too. I get the political benefits of G-dropping, but that doesn’t make it any better in principle. Let’s face it: people on TV dropping the “g” are all pretty well educated–some excellently so–and you’re not fooling anybody with half a cerebellum. You aren’t folksy. Drop the act. Quit your pandering.
Unfortunately, this G-dropping isn’t solely the domain of politicians anymore. I see this on the local news all the time. On the national news. On cable news. Everybody wants to sound like Joe Schmo because they think it will earn them viewers or support. And shame on us if it does; seriously, shame on us for facilitating the rapid spread of stupid or anti-education. You would think that defunding public schools and sitting our kids in front of crap TV and video games for ten hours a day would have been enough, but no. We need to make already intelligent people sound, look, and eventually act dumb, too. People are now publicly shamed as “elitists” if you choose to sound like a cognizant being aware of something other than the 24 hour bombardment of bullshit from all corners of the earth. Rationality has been denigrated in favor of violent, hyperemotional, non-sensical response, because that’s what we learn when we watch people arguing with each other on every channel. Whether it’s CNN or the Real Housewives of Bumblefuck, everybody is screaming at the top of their lungs at everyone else. We have never been good at listening; usually we just wait until the other person shuts up so we can seem polite when we begin to babble incessantly about our own concerns, but that feigned politeness has even dropped to the wayside. Now we’ve all just said “fuck it!” and are screaming over the top of everybody else. The loudest, most violent, most obnoxious people, and only they, are or can be heard.
I pose this as the bigger question in relation to the American political landscape: who actually wants to vote for somebody who sounds like the guy who lives next door and spends ten hours a week guzzling Budweiser while mowing his lawn with his tricked out John Deere? Do I trust that this person can manage economic, social, and international political concerns effectively? Can we, as a nation, agree that sounding and acting dumb/uninformed/folksy is not as valuable as sounding (and being) smart, confident, and educated? I’m so tired of stupid being cool. Stupid isn’t cool. Stupid is stupid.
It can be pretty difficult to sleep in the summertime. Even though I live in the Midwest, which usually has okay summers as far as temperatures go, this year has been absurdly hot. ABSURD, I tell you. Like 95+ degrees for weeks. Not okay. Firstly, if you don’t have AC, you’re screwed. No way around it. You will toss and turn all night in your awful sweat-soaked sheets (and not from any fun pre-sleep activities, either). Gross.
If you do have AC, chances are you have an outrageous electric bill, and, if you’re like me, sinuses that are completely in revolt. Yes, world, I really want to have bloody noses every morning from wanting to sleep in cool air. Blargh!
If it happens to be cool enough to sleep with your windows open, you run the risk of noise.And by noise, I mean assholes shooting off fireworks until three in the morning. Really? It’s a friggin’ Wednesday night; don’t you have to work tomorrow? WHO ARE YOU SHOOTING THOSE OFF FOR? Everyone is asleep, or at least was until you drank one too many Budweisers and came up with this genius idea. Douche.
Another risk of sleeping with your windows open in the summer is something I have christened “3am Clampett Syndrome.” We all can get a bit testy when it’s hot outside; no one is happy to be sticky and sweaty and just generally gross even into the night. HOWEVER–this is not an excuse to go outside of your apartment building and scream at your significant other in the middle of the night. Listen, you hillbilly, you’re not out in the country. People are right above you with their windows open TRYING TO SLEEP, and you’re waking me up with your shrill f-bombs, slamming of car doors, and general banging on inanimate objects. It’s not the car hood’s fault your girlfriend is a whore. It’s hard enough to sleep in balmy, humid weather without your bullshit.
Just a friendly PSA: 3am Clampetts, Drunken Firework Guy, and everyone else disturbing my sleep, STFU.
Sometimes, I am a loud-mouth. Still, I have self-control, and an awareness of myself whilst in public places. A young lady I encountered today was lacking in the whole control area, but she was clearly an expert in loud-mouthery. Man, oh, man… She could talk. LOUD. She struck me as the kind of person who updates her facebook status at least twice a day; likely about half of those statuses are vague and emotional so that people will ask what’s wrong. Basically, I’m saying she was really darn annoying.
We were all
trapped trying on clothes in the Salvation Army, when some loud-mouthed teen decided to declare her cup-size to us all. I was not amused. Here are a few things she exclaimed:
I have a lot of issues with this. First of all, don’t scream about your boobies in the middle of a store. It’s one thing to say to your companion, “This won’t fit over my boobs,” or, “Haha! Look at this.” It’s very different to share your cup-size like a news announcement. I promise, no one cares as much as you do. You can share the moment with your friend, but you don’t need to share it with everyone else. There are kids around, and old folks, and folks who just have normal levels of privacy… They don’t care.
Also, they do make clothes for big boobs. As a lady with boobs EVEN BIGGER than yours, I can assure you that I wear clothing that I do not make. Therefore, some clothing has to fit over boobs of that stature. Yes, it is harder to find button-ups, bathing suits, dresses, and tanktops, but you learn to deal. Big boobs happen. Big shirts happen too. You just have to accept that you can’t fit into anything and everything… You know, like everyone else.
Another thing, most people don’t want to hear complaints about big boobs. Big boobs get a lot of press and a lot of love. Maybe don’t whine in front of all the A-Cups and B-Cups of the world. They’re hatred of you and your D-Cups could penetrate your skull and crush you at any moment. Stop complaining. You’ll be fine.
Maybe I’m just a cranky old lady, but I just don’t want to hear about a stranger’s boobs from across the store.
Do you think Christina Hendricks screams, “HOW WILL I FIT MY CRAZY-HUGE TITTAYS IN THIS OUTFIT?!” every time she tries to buy a tanktop? No. She does not. Christina Aguilera doesn’t either. Some ladies have big boobies. Every single person who sees a lady with big boobies will, with a doubt, notice that she has them. Big boobs are kind of hard to miss. Therefore, they don’t need to be announced in the Salvation Army dressing rooms.
(Amendment at end.)
Today, I learned that I have thighs of glory. This does not mean my thighs are skinny, because they are not and they never will be. Skinny thighs give me the creeps. A “gentleman” walking about downtown Ann Arbor exclaimed upon seeing my pasty, glorious thighs, that they were, in fact, “Sweet and juicy.” My first reaction, as always, was to get incredibly angry. I generally get hypermasculine, start swearing, and calling people dudes when I am approached in this manner. As you might imagine, I do not like being approached by random men who want to comment on my specific body parts and their potential “uses.” Instead, I simply laughed at these strange and utterly creepy proclamations of my thigh’s awesomeness.
I thought to myself, “Here I am, a slightly-less-fat-than-average person with well-developed leg muscles (mostly the calves), pasty skin, a partial sunburn on my forehead, jiggly thighs, and fairly low self-esteem. Yet, this possibly drunk man has enjoyed the show (by show, I mean that I walked by in longer-than-apparently-average shorts). Maybe, I will just laugh at this and be thankful that someone out there still understands that thighs are meant to be thick, strong, and fleshy. Thighs should look like thighs.”
I would much rather have Beyonce’s thighs of glory (however pastier, less toned, and altogether less glorious), than skinny thighs (ahem, LeAnn Rhimes, Victoria Beckham, Kiera Knightly, almost every model, and Miley Cyrus). I would rather look like Serena Williams than a 12-year-old. Skinny thighs are for children. Thick thighs are for women.
Seriously, how great does Beyonce look? This lady helped bring back the popularity of thicker thighs, and I am thankful. The ladies who write this blog are fans of curves. Curves are normal. Beyonce is clearly above average in all ways, but I think we need to remember the glory of “sweet and juicy thighs.”
Serena Williams could destroy us all with her thighs. I feel pretty good about that. She is strong and sexy; her presence in pop culture is good for women with curves.
I know that this post may seem a bit strange. *After all, I did get inspiration from a drunken cat call.* However, it is somewhat comforting that people are appreciating pale, fleshy thighs. That’s all.
After reading some comments, I realize that this post needs clarification. Thin thighs are not “unacceptable,” “horrible,” nor are they somehow inherently “bad.” It is not bad to be a thin person. No one is a villain simply having thin thighs.
What is bad and scary, then?
It is bad and scary to push a body to extremes. It is bad to glorify thinness above all else. It is bad to glorify unhealthy habits that push people into unhealthy weights. Just as a person can be too fat, a person can be too thin. Both are bad. The thing, not a lot of people are striving to be fat. A lot of people are spending their days and nights obsessing over being thin at any price. A lot of people have blogs and tumblrs devoted to “thinspo” with all kinds of ways to get skinny. There are too many little girls and women out there who hurt themselves to achieve a level of thin that is not healthy for them.
That said, making thin women the villain is wrong.
Thin women just so happen to be thin. Many people want to be thin, and that’s okay. But wanting to be thin, or wanting to have Beyonce’s thighs, at any cost… that’s scary.
Also, Beyonce is amazing.
With all these recent political debates going about women’s health issues and so-called gay rights (ahem, Equal Rights, ahem), I thought it was only fair to question the rights of white, middle class males. Hell, I’ll question the rights of all males! That’s what we’re doing now, right? We’re just picking a group at random and taking away everything they deserve, or steadily denying their obvious rights. Great! Men are first on my chopping block.
Before we get started, I want to clarify the point of this post…
I understand that this blog might seem largely anti-man; it is meant to be a heavy-handed metaphor. When someone says, “Men shouldn’t have the right to vote,” people can easily react with, “Well, that’s ridiculous and stupid. We would never take away men’s right to vote just because they’re men.” That’s what I’m going for… If it is easy to see that we wouldn’t want to deny men’s rights simply based on their manliness, I hope it is easy to see that others shouldn’t be denied rights on equally basic identities. We’re not confused as to whether or not sex is a choice in a man, but we are confused about the “choice” of things like sexuality, marriage, and abortion. Personally, I don’t care if someone thinks being gay is a choice or not, either way, the rights should be provided. I get to choose if I want to be a liberal, or an English major, or a girlfriend. I want to also choose whether or not I can become a wife of a wife, or the wife of a husband.
I attacked men as an example. I do not think men are solely or wholly responsible for these issues that exist in American politics. That would be highly irresponsible. I believe that men are historically given more power, more say, and more of a share when it comes to politics and political movement. That does not, however, implicate all males as guilty parties in some kind of conspiracy. It simply means that men tend to have more power. This is why I chose to use men as a group. Of course men won’t lose their rights. That will never happen. That’s why I thought it could be powerful. This post is not meant to actually assert that men are evil and shouldn’t vote; it is simply a reframing of what seems to be rather random stripping of rights. Birth control, for example, is suddenly up for debate again, and I think that is just as ridiculous as denying men the right to vote.
Men should not have the right to vote.
Men should have to register all emissions of a bodily nature.
These emissions could have fertilized eggs, and are therefore alive. Thus, any time a man commits murder by ejaculating somewhere besides a vagina, he should have to report the lost lives to the government. If accidental, the man will simply be shamed and forced to live with the guilt. If his emission is a purposeful (likely porn-inspired) event, he will be prosecuted for obstruction of life. He will be forced to wear wooden undergarments for up to one year per emission.
Since birth control has suddenly become so controversial, it only seems right that we protect the rights of sperm denied the chance to swim into a cervix to burrow into a lady’s egg, and possibly create a possibly viable fetus.
Men should be punished for thinking the below things are “always lies.”
Sometimes women tell the truth. Not all women are trying to get pregnant. Some women don’t want kids, and a lot of women don’t want them for a long time. For a lot women, the words, “I’m not mad,” mean that she is not mad.
Men should have to write essays of explanation to everyone they bang, and to everyone they know about they people they bang.
As a woman, if I choose to sleep with anyone, I am opening myself up to all kinds of judgment. There are so many political ties to my vagina, and I believe a man ought to have the same level of political tape to get through for banging someone.
P.S. – Sarcasm is a powerful tool we use against powerful tools.