Shifting the Burden of Proof — from Legal to Moral

Ghomeshi. Well, fuck. 

I need to talk atcha about this. 

I need to discuss how Justice Horkins stressed certain legal requirements. But more so I need to write about how those requirements don't have to be met in the court of public opinion.

Just Don't Call Me Late for Dinner!

I like nicknames. 

I have a nickname for anyone close to me, and if I don’t yet I will eventually. Nicknames are reminders of something, some connection I have with people: inside joke, call back to another time, long-term use variation on their common name. 

Child of Thicke IS a big jaggoff. Oops, I mean 'dick'.

Changing the time signature, the instruments, or the binary gender of the vocalist (considering how many cisgender women buy into heteronormative male gaze standards) doesn't make misogynistic songs any less horrid.

I've heard rebuttals of Alan Thicke's son's (you betcha I'm not mentioning the child's name because he doesn't get hits even from my irrelevant blog) song...they creep me out because they're still pro-sexual aggression.

Laugh! Laugh, bitches, laugh!

I love laughing. In private or public, in a group or alone, I laugh loudly and often. Understated or ridiculous doesn’t matter. Satirical, absurd, surreal; droll, witty, erudite; rude, puerile, disrespectful—these jokes all make me laugh my head off.

No One Can Make You Feel Inferior Without Your Consent — Eleanor Roosevelt

With respect, fuck Eleanor Roosevelt.

She lived in the fucking White House and had servants surrounding her. She was white in a time of racial Segregation. She was the fucking wife of the fucking President of the United States. Excepting her husband, I suspect NO ONE could make Mrs Roosevelt feel inferior at ALL.

Marxist from the Waist Down

*Title (and therefore inspiration) thanks to dj://spaz (Mike) who is awesome.

I do not understand your stand on my unders. You--

are denying and defining what’s in them with wonder.

Why do you care what’s under my outers? Why do you stare,

unaware that I’m aware that you stare DOWN THERE?

Be It Now

This is a rant
against the hands that reach out to accept and place manacles instead.
This is a rant
against the judgements we pass and the assumptions we make when we see people walking down the street: body parts, pieces, genitals…things.