A Ballad for the Woman on a Flight Who Gave Her Screaming Children Coffee

By Shawn

O dearest woman on the flight
I took not long ago,
I have a bone to pick with you,
About two cups of joe.

Remember that late Delta flight?
They packed us like sardines,
And none of us were in the mood,
To hear your children’s screams.

Yet they both wailed and kicked the seats
Of those in front of them,
Denying weary passengers
Some needed R.E.M.

I thought that you might feel the need
To make your children cease.
Events would soon make clear to me
You don’t care in the least.

For in the midst of all their cries,
Your children screamed at you:
“More coffee, Mom! We want some now!”
Well, what’s a mom to do?

I guess if you’re a shitty mom,
You do just what you did,
And buy two cups of black cocaine
To overclock your kids.

What happened next was horrible—
You couldn’t pay me millions
To relive that and watch your kids
Both act like Robin Williams.

I think you hate the human race.
I think that must be why
You’d put your fellow human beings
Through torture in the sky.

Well, I enjoyed that trip so much–
I love when children yell.
Still, I don’t blame your kids for this,
But you can burn in hell.

The War on Men; or, You’re Right, Equality is for Idiots

By Ann

I just read a lovely opinion piece on the Fox News website. Perhaps some of you have already seen it. It’s called, “The War on Men” by Suzanne Venker. I’ll include a link below in case you’d like to take a look yourself.

Before you do, a warning: if you dive into this article unprepared, it may make you want to dropkick the illustrious Ms. Venker right in her lady bits. Yet, that would be to overlook Ms. Venker’s insight: all that rage you’re feeling is just a product of bra-burning feminists overheating your lady-brain with their fancy talk. Let’s slow down, breathe deep, and try to benefit from Ms. Venker’s profound wisdom together.

Ms. Venker begins her groundbreaking masterpiece by calling attention to the decreasing number of men who are looking to marry. In her research, Ms. Venker found that when asked why marriage has become less appealing, a certain “subculture” of men respond: “Women aren’t women anymore.”

A few paragraphs down you get the additional treat of reading, “But what if the dearth of good men, and ongoing battle of the sexes, is – hold on to your seats – women’s fault?”

My first response was: No, bitch, you hold on to your seat, because I’m about to slap you out of it six ways to Sunday.

But then I got to the heart of the piece. I’m not paraphrasing this. Here it is verbatim:

Contrary to what feminists like Hanna Rosin, author of The End of Men, say, the so-called rise of women has not threatened men. It has pissed them off. It has also undermined their ability to become self-sufficient in the hopes of someday supporting a family. Men want to love women, not compete with them. They want to provide for and protect their families – it’s in their DNA. But modern women won’t let them.

It’s all so unfortunate – for women, not men. Feminism serves men very well: they can have sex at hello and even live with their girlfriends with no responsibilities whatsoever.

… Yep. Those words were written in 2012, ladies and gentlemen.

Now, at first glance, Ms. Venker’s argument might seem wildly offensive. And when she goes on to explain how a woman is sinning against nature if she has a college degree and a career, you realize that at second glance, third glance, and dare I say fourth, it’s not just wildly offensive—it’s a mother-flippin’ catastrophe.

But at FIFTH glance, it becomes obvious that Ms. Venker is on to something. She does make several excellent points here.

Right off the bat, Ms. Venker hits it on the nose: Feminism (a.k.a. that pesky little movement supporting equality) has been nothing but a travesty for women. First of all, it is universally acknowledged that no one wants to be equal. Everyone hates equality. Which is why the United States still has a monarchy. And slavery. Every day we’re thankful we didn’t abolish either of those things. Or let those whiny minorities vote. Because, boy howdy, nothing says the Land of the Free like soul-crushing oppression.

Furthermore, as to the point of men getting to have sex with more women these days, again, Ms. Venker, I must applaud you. They really bamboozled us there. After all, it is impossible that women might also enjoy having sex. Thanks to the Victorians, everyone knows that a woman with a sex drive is suffering from an unnatural illness. Fortunately, her freaky-deaky sexy-time disease can be diagnosed and treated in one of the following three ways: (1) her clitoris is oversized and must be removed via the 100% pain-free practice of female circumcision, (2) the devil is inside her and must be removed via the 100% legit practice of exorcism, or (3) the devil is inside her clitoris and both must be removed simultaneously by screaming Latin while stabbing at her hoo-ha with a scapula.

Oh, and that last bit about men getting to live with their girlfriends without having to be the sole provider… Right again! Sweet Jesus, that’s the worst. You mean men and women now have the freedom to choose the balance that makes sense for them, instead of being crushed by society for deviating from gender roles? No wonder men are so “angry” with the situation.

Hell, I’d be pissed too if someone told me I got to have more sex and work less.

But not to worry, friends, the all-knowing Ms. Venker has a solution for us:

“Fortunately, there is good news: women have the power to turn everything around. All they have to do is surrender to their nature – their femininity – and let men surrender to theirs.

“If they do, marriageable men will come out of the woodwork.”

Boy, I gotta tell ya, I’m with her. I don’t know about the rest of you ladies, but I for one am fed up with trying to work in a man’s world all the time when estrogen makes my thinky-thing so stupid and sleepy. Every time I try to do my job, my uterus gets all tingly and sends sad feelings into my woman-heart.  Then, all the while, I’m busy worrying if my hair looks okay. Even now, I’m staring at it so much it’s hard to finish writing this paragraph! Femininity is some distracting shit, you know?

Plus, I can’t wait to get my soft, delicate hands on one of these “marriageable men” Ms. Venker keeps talking about. I thought I was happy with my boyfriend who loves me the way I am. But now I realize that all I need is a guy who thinks I’m no woman unless I give up the power to choose what’s important to me. Mmm, sweet, delicious lack of agency… My uterus will be so relieved.

In case you want to view it in all its glory, the article can be found here:

http://www.foxnews.com/opinion/2012/11/24/war-on-men/

Great opinion piece, Fox. I suggest you follow it up with, “The War on White People.”

Update from 2014:

Oh, wait:

http://radio.foxnews.com/2014/08/08/are-democrats-waging-a-raging-war-on-white-people/

GREAT JOB, FOX.

Tumblr Memes, I Will Conquer You, Pt. 2

By Shawn

I wrote a post a while back, titled Tumblr Memes, I Will Conquer You, in which I tried start a Tumblr meme of my own. At the time, I thought I had found the winning formula for Tumblr meme success:

animals or celebrities + whatever the hell = winning at the Internet

Unfortunately, the Tumblr this produced, Squirrels with Awesome Facial Hair, failed to take off for some reason. Possibly part of the problem was that I only posted three images and then decided I didn’t care anymore.  But I think the real issue is that I was working off of a bad formula. After some reflection and soul-searching, I’ve decided to revise it extensively. Now it goes:

animals AND celebrities + whatever the hell = winning at the Internet

So let’s give this thing another whirl, this time using hedgehogs, Beatrix Potter drawings, and crazed German filmmaker Werner Herzog.

Without further ado, I give you Werner Hedgehog:

Werner Hedgehog memes: "I believe the common denominator of the Universe is not harmony, but chaos, hostility, and murder."

 Werner Hedgehog memes: "Do you not then hear this horrible scream all around you that people call silence?"

 Werner Hedgehog memes: "I have the impression that the images that surround us today are worn out, they are abused and useless and exhausted."

More at the link:  http://wernerhedgehog.tumblr.com/

Fall Fashion Trend Report

By Ann

Today I was cruising around Pinterest, and this appeared on the clothing board of a fashionista pinner I follow:

What.

Yeah, I know. That was a lot to process. Let’s try that one more time, shall we?

Double what.

Stop. The. Presses. What is going on here?

Now, on the one hand, you could view this as a misguided attempt at “artsy-ness” meant to evoke the texture of the sweater. On the other hand, you could take it at face value and embrace the newest fall fashion trend.

Face it, ladies and gents: brown is the new black, chevron is the new polka dots, and live animals are the new fur.

I know what you’re thinking: “But, Ann, how am I ever going to afford the latest designer lambs?” Well, never fear, fashionistas, even if farm animals are out of your budget, you can embrace the trend with this easy DIY substitution:

Your willing or unwilling household pets.

WELCOME TO THE FUTURE OF FASHION, BITCHLETS:

Bam. Cat shawl.

If your cat begins to grow restless, just find yourself a new way to cat-ccessorize.

The cat clutch.

Incidentally, cat-swept is the new wind-swept.

Case in point.

And if your cat gets too restless…

Where are you going, Stella?! Fashion is at stake!

Find a new animal to accommodate your fashion-forward needs. Check it, yo.

Hamster hat.

Problem solved. No more excuses, folks. Time to get TRENDY.

 

On a side note, I’ve started saying “bitchlets” as a term of endearment. I regret nothing.

Organization Seeking Entry-Level

By Ann

Did I mention I’m looking for jobs right now? Sometimes, this is what that feels like:

Organization Seeking Entry-Level Administrative Assistant

Are you up for a challenge? Our organization is seeking a motivated, self-starter to serve in an entry-level administrative assistant role.

Posting Date: Today.

Start Date: Yesterday. Your application is now late.

Responsibilities:

– Answer the phone and man the front desk

– Perform administrative organizational tasks

– Maintain all databases with up-to-date information

– Manage organization’s online presence

– Write and design daily newsletter

– E-mail that daily newsletter to everyone we have ever worked with in any capacity

– Print out that daily newsletter and mail a hard copy to those same people

– Find those people, go up to them individually, and ask, “Hey, did you get that newsletter I sent you?”

– If they seem evasive, narrow your eyes and say, “I know you got it. Go back and read it. Carefully.”

– They probably won’t. But that’s why God invented stalking. Get to it.

– Additional responsibilities include: graphic design, video production, coding our website, doing our laundry, cooking our meals, and dancing without pants for the CEO’s entertainment.

Location:

We have offices in Washington, DC; New York, NY; Seattle, Washington; and throughout Mexico. The ideal candidate will be able to travel between all of the above and also to Narnia, where he or she will be expected to end the endless winter. Travel will not be reimbursed.

 Qualifications:

– Ability to work minimum of 70 hours per week, as well as nights and weekends as required, without notice, consideration, or reasonable compensation.

– High-level proficiency with Microsoft Office; Adobe Creative Suite; Video editing software including Final Cut Pro, iMovie, and all the other programs we can’t be bothered to look up at the moment, but will hold you accountable for; Coding expertise in HTML, XML, CSS, TEI, XQL, DFQUIBBLY, FIZZBOT, and RTTTRRTTTRRRRRRR

– 10-15 years professional experience as an entry-level administrative assistant

– A Bachelor’s Degree in a related field

– An additional Bachelor’s Degree in an unrelated field to show your varied interests

– A Masters in Marine Biology because most of us like fish

– A PhD in Comparative Literature (a published dissertation reflecting on The Tale of Genji’s cross-cultural influence is PREFERRED, but not required)

– A positive attitude and basic lack of self-respect is a must. If you come in with daddy issues, we can get you the rest of the way.

Compensation:

Nothing. Go kill yourself.

How To Write Your Own Cosmo Sex Tips

By Ann

Are you looking to turn up the volume in the bedroom and tired of waiting every month for Cosmo to tell you how? Look no further! With this simple how-to guide, you’ll be writing your own Cosmo sex tips in no time. Here’s everything you need to unleash the creativity of your inner goddess upon your unsuspecting partner.

Before you can become a true sex tip master, you’ll have to do your research. Luckily, it won’t take very long. Cosmo sex tips fall into three general categories. They are as follows:

A. The Physically Impossible

This category consists of tips that are best performed by double-jointed gymnasts with a death wish. Cosmo usually has at least a couple of these per issue, but this one is all you need to understand the category:

“If you and your guy are feeling adventurous, here’s a challenge: Have him sit on the couch, his legs stretched out and slightly parted, knees bent, and feet resting on a hard surface, like a coffee table. Stand behind the couch and, leaning over, place your elbows on either side of his hips as you lower your head between his thighs. With the majority of your weight supported by your elbows, place your knees on the back of the couch, so you’re straddling his face.” (February 2012)

And that’s just the main event. For some smoldering foreplay, puzzle over the diagram you’ve drawn of how on God’s earth you’re going to attempt this. Afterwards, get your romantic cuddle on in the ER while waiting to get your spinal injuries treated.

B. The Fail Safe: When in doubt, touch his balls.

It’s true. Cosmo really wants you to touch your guy’s balls. Now, granted, we’re all only working with so much equipment here, but I’m always impressed with just how often Cosmo manages to wedge in a ball sack. So much so that I’ve started to wonder if their sex column isn’t just written by one guy whose relationship went south because his girlfriend refused to fiddle with his nutsack. But they can’t just tell you that. That would be weird for you. So, instead, they invest in feisty lingo to disguise the fact that a good 75% of their advice is to make contact with your gent’s testicles.

And ladies, as long as you’re making contact with balls, Cosmo is pretty sure you can do anything your little heart desires: pet them, flick them, lick them, slap them with a spatula and yell, “Boy howdy!”

According to Cosmo, you can do no wrong with your boyfriend’s balls. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, might have other ideas about that. But who are you gonna trust here? The guy whose balls you’re fondling, or Cosmo? That question was rhetorical, and the answer was Cosmo.

C. The Downright Surreal

This is, by far, my favorite category of Cosmo sex tips. No doubt, it is a struggle to produce a catalog of fresh sex tips month after month. No, really, after witnessing some of this bizarre advice, I have no doubt. You won’t either. This is the category of tip in which Cosmo makes that blatantly transparent. When reading these over, I can never decide what’s more satisfying to visualize: the sex tip writer banging her head against the keyboard, or the horrified face of the man unlucky enough to take a Cosmo reader to bed.

Generally, the surreal Cosmo tip involves strange props, a fundamental misconception of what most people consider a turn-on, and/or destroying you and your partner’s worldly possessions. I’ve seen advice involving frozen grapes and pearl necklaces that would make you wince, but here are some of my personal favorites:

“Press a fork (firmly, but don’t break the skin or anything) into different parts of his body—his butt cheeks, his pecs, his thighs.” (Aug 2012) Better yet, don’t warn him about the fact that you’re planning to bring cutlery into your love life. Just hide a fork under his pillow, whip it out during foreplay, and smile a crazy smile. Make sure to say something sexy like, “HELL YEAH, SUPPER’S ON!”

“Blindfold him, then give him bitchy directions (‘Touch me here. No, not there, here’). When you can’t be seen, the bossy badass can come out.” (Aug 2012) Oh, yeah, bitchy directions. Mmm, that’s the sexiest kind of directions: “Stop being so ugly. I said, stop being so ugly! Jesus, you’re not very good at this, are you? Now, cry for me. I said, CRY for me, failure boy! Good, gooood, right into this soup bowl. Now, watch me drink your overly-salty tears.”

“Tie his silk tie loosely around his penis, then roll it up and down for a silky hand job.” (Aug 2012) Never mind that it cost him $50. Guys love it when you take their prized possessions and destroy them.

“Lie across an ottoman, and tell him, ‘Professor Wankerton, I’ve been bad, and I need a spanking.” (Aug 2012) Yes, you heard it here first, folks. Professor Wankerton for the win. Alternately, try other surreal nicknames that are sure to make his freak flag fly, such as Sergeant Dickasaurus, Commodore Penis-face, and Captain Winkypants.

“Let him write ‘Property of [his name]’ on your underwear before you leave for work. It’s an all-day reminder that he is your ‘master,’ which is awesomely kinky.” (Aug 2012) Oooh, steamy. That’ll take you back to the hottest time of all, when ladies were men’s property. For an extra sexy treat, see if you can organize your most attractive lady-friends into repealing a woman’s right to vote. Let him watch as you march on DC and duke it out with appalled congresswomen. Cat-fight in pantsuits, anyone?

“Climb on top, and play with just the tip for a few minutes. Then get up, grab some water, and leaving him hanging. When you finally take all of him, it’ll feel like sensory overload.” (Dec 2011) That’s true. Nothing says sexy like sheer indifference. To mix things up, next time you try this trick, don’t come back at all. Pair this with mind-blowing dirty talk like: “Boy, I’m thirsty! . . . Goodbye forever, John.”

“Put a bunch of (clean!) loose change in the freezer for an hour. Tell him to slick your vulva with warming lube then cover it with the coins (outside only!). The cold against the warm? Incredible.” (Aug 2012) And covering your snatch with pennies? The height of decadence. Listen, ladies, you’re about to feel like the sexy Queen of England, dripping in the spoils of your country’s treasury. Or, barring that, a parking meter.

Pick up a couple of sushi rolls, lie down on your couch, and invite your man to enjoy a meal off your naked body.” (Cosmopolitan.com) Because I don’t know about you, reader, but whenever I get turned on, my mind immediately goes to raw fish. And being covered in it. Combine this with the coins tip, and once he’s done with his meal, your vulva can give him change.

Congratulations, you’ve done your research! You now know everything you need to write your very own Cosmo sex tips. Remember, go for anything that is (a) physically impossible, (b) testicle-oriented, or (c) so freaking crazy that just reading about it makes you want to scream uncontrollably. For the best possible results, combine all of the above.

Examples:

Physically Impossible:

Move your kitchen table directly under a ceiling fan. Then, get your guy to stand on top of the table on one leg like a sexy flamingo. Climb up there with him, straddle him around the waist with your legs, grab the ceiling fan blades with your hands for support, and have at it! At the height of your climax, turn on the fan. Don’t let go. If you’ve done it right, what happens next should thoroughly destroy a bookshelf and kill both of you.

Physically Impossible + Surreal:

Buy an old tape recorder off eBay. Record yourself screaming, “Yeeha!” into it. Then, for an extra sexy surprise, shove it up your hoo-ha, angling the playback button downward. At the height of the action, angle your hips upwards so that the tip of his shaft will trigger your recording at just the right moment. There’s nothing like hearing a mysterious voice screaming at him from inside your vagina to send him over the edge.

Physically Impossible + Surreal + Testicle-Oriented:

Grab him by the balls. Lean in and, using your huskiest voice, whisper in his ear, “I’ve been bad, Captain Winkypants. Cover me in your loose change and pocket lint, knot a silk tie around your penis so it looks fancy, and take me like an animal inside your grandma’s washing machine.” Can you say, “Machine Wash HOT?”

And there you have it. Now you’re a pro. Remember, the sky’s the limit! Lord knows Cosmo uses as little judgment as possible in putting these together, and it seems to work for them.

Every Batman Movie in Thirty Seconds

By Shawn

Every Other Protagonist: Christian Bale, this city is in trouble. What this city needs is a symbol.

Christian Bale: That symbol can only be me in a bat costume.

Other Protagonist: Have you thought about whether that’s really what this city needs?

Christian Bale: Not carefully, no. But that’s what I’m doing.

Other Protagonist: I have reservations about that, and will express concerns about your safety. But go ahead.

(Christian Bale does, and encounters setback.)

Christian Bale: I’ve encountered a setback, and now I’m not even sure I should be Batman.

Other Protagonist: I also have doubts about whether you should be Batman. AND here’s troubling information that affects the non-Batman parts of your life.

Christian Bale: Then I guess I have no choice but to be emo in exotic locations.

(Villain does evil things.)

Other Protagonist: Things got worse while you were being emo in the sands of/jungles of/waters of wherever-the-hell. In hindsight, I think you should probably be Batman.

Christian Bale: But I can’t be Batman. I have “I’m letting myself go” facial hair and I desperately need a training montage.

Other Protagonist: I think the real issue is that you haven’t confronted whatever’s stopping you from being Batman, which is probably linked to the issues that first made you decide to be Batman. Also, I still have doubts about whether you should be Batman. But you should be. Probably.

Christian Bale: This conversation is for whatever reason all the motivation I need to confront my fears and be Batman.

(Christian Bale defeats villain.)

Other Protagonist: Wow, you really beat the crap out of whomever. I guess it’s good that you’re Batman. Maybe.

Christian Bale: Yes, now certainly is an appropriate time for some vague reflections on the moral complexities of law enforcement/being Batman. But one thing’s for sure. After this, I’m definitely not going to be Batman again. Unless, of course, this scenario WERE TO REPEAT ITSELF EXACTLY OVER AND OVER AGAIN.