Ok, we all know I am prone to ranting. We all need a good rant from time to time, don’t pretend like you don’t.
After a particularly annoying walk from the train to my office, I posted one such “Mini-rant”, (because, believe me, I could go on forever). I was getting “likes” and comments all over the place, because EVERY SINGLE WOMAN IN THE WORLD has had to deal with this at one point or another and there are plenty of sensitive, non douche-tastic men out there who get it and don’t conduct themselves that way.
And then I get one douchey comment from one guy I know to be a sexist douche. Shit….why is he my Facebook friend? Need to correct that….
As I expected, he totally missed the point. Which led me to count the “likes” and comments from other men I know, which led me to make a very off-the-cuff hypothesis based on those numbers: 1 out of 7 men is a douche-nozzle.
A Note on the word “Douche”- I don’t think many people are offended by this word, at least not that I’ve noticed. I know some that think it’s overused and whatnot. I have put ample thought into my usage of this word. As the owner of a vagina, I know that “douching” is one of the dumbest, most unnecessary things to do to your Vajay. Ladies, listen up: Your basement is like a self-cleaning oven, it doesn’t need any shit that smells like “Spring Rain” to improve it. Don’t squirt weird shit up there. Take a shower, practice good hygiene, that’s all. To my mind, Douching is a stupid, misguided, potentially hazardous, totally useless thing. When I call someone a “douche”, that’s what I mean. I don’t use that word with no thought behind it.
Here’s the rant that I posted. Because, to me, that’s what Facebook is really for: getting stuff off my chest that 302 people may possibly read or at least notice. Yeah…I’m here for education….and shit. That and posting pictures of my cats.
Ok, “Gentlemen” of Market and Drumm Streets, (and pretty much this whole city and the world over.)
1. Yes, my boobs are wicked awesome. I don’t need you to tell me that. Good job digging on some curvy chicks.
2. Believe it or not, I could GIVE A FUCK about what you think about my body/outfit/smile or lack thereof. I didn’t wake up this morning and get ready hoping to meet your skeazy approval. This shit isn’t for you. Cry about it.
3. Sorry to bust your bubble when I let you know that just by owning a penis and thinking you’re “complimenting” me, that doesn’t mean that you’ve earned any of my time. I don’t owe you shit. I’m a salty bitch, and again, could give a fuck. Don’t need your validation, man.
If I stopped for every tool on the sidewalk that thought he had shit to say to me, I WOULD NEVER GET ANYWHERE. I have places to be and shit to do, fellas. You are not on my agenda.
Leave a girl alone or get some manners, then go apologize to your mom for being a total fucking disappointment.
So, that was the post. Then, the comment that was made that annoyed me, (and maybe I read it wrong, but I don’t think so), was “sounds like your life is pretty tough”.
Ummm…..I think that’s what we call “missing the point”. I’m not sitting here complaining,”Forget AIDS in Africa and kids starving in America, because *boohoo* men say stupid shit to me because they find me appealing in someway! Waaahhh!”
No, dumbass. And you’re showing me that you may be part of the problem. The basis of my annoyance is this: The fact that some men think we automatically give a shit about what they think about how we look. That I should be appreciative and just because they are male that they have a right to my time and attention. Plus, let’s not be rude and crass, shall we?
The fact that you need to harass/insult/shock/humiliate women on the street doesn’t prove anything “manly” about you. It just makes me chuckle to myself and feel bad for you. You have no idea how to talk to women and get their attention without being a total ape, huh? The best is when you rebuff them and then they call you “bitch” or “ugly”. Ha! Well, maybe you should work on having better taste then, champ, and leave all us “ugly bitches” alone.
The moral is this: I don’t mind being sexually appreciated. Hello? BURLESQUE PERFORMER. That’s totally how I get my jollies, especially because I control the response (mostly) and the audience is actually learning a little bit about me and my personality through my performance. I am a powerful, feminine, sexual being. And you should totally appreciate that.
Holy crap, I have the power to create freakin’ life and decide whether or not I want to. (Well, sort of, thanks America).
Consider this: There is a right and wrong way to do it.
A good way to look at it, fellas: Would you want someone talking to you this way? No? Then KNOCK IT OFF. And much love goes out to all the amazing men I know that remind me that not nearly all of them act like this.
As always, dear ones, be kind to each other