saw this today; eyes rolled back so hard I almost fell
At least we know that none of the figures in this painting authored the document in the first place 😂
How can these people be so proud to have strong convictions about a few lines of text they know so little about? Can they name even three other amendments? Just three! How about identifying the most important ones, like the one that abolished slavery and the one that granted women the right to vote? $100 says they can’t.
Every “gun rights” pontiff on the Constitution, in summary: “Militia? Naw, the 2nd amendment definitely says we all have the right to bear arms and junkz. I haven’t read it since middle school, but I am 110% sure that’z whut it sayz. And there’s, like, some other amendments too, but I dunno what they are. The 2nd is the MOST important to me, a white person under no threats whatsoever.”
It had been over a year, so Cyan convinced me to download an app and try again. Ehhhh. Okay. What harm can it do?
Here’s how it’s going so far. So, I’m a man on a dating site. I am either a medical sales rep or a financial adviser, but either way I definitely have a pic of myself at machu picchu. (Seriously, every fourth swipe has one. Where do they get the money? I have to drive Lyft at night if I want to buy groceries the next day.)
Here are the other pics on my hypothetical online dating dude page:
- me posing next to my dog (why does every man in their thirties have a dog? I can smell the wet dog wafting from your photostream)
- me with my favorite sports team jersey
- me in my bathroom mirror
- me on another mountain (okay but I like the mountain ones :D)
- me at dinner with my ex cropped out (I like these too because the food always looks good. Moar food pics!)
- me next to my more attractive friend (who’s your friend? Is he on here?)
- Me holding a dead bass next to my head
- me holding a child that makes you think boy he has that hot dad look and then “NIECE/NEPHEW” in the comments that promises you won’t be a homewrecker
Stepping back from the satire for a moment, real talk: I am getting suspicious of the men of Bumble. Many of them are incredibly hot–stop swiping and just make noises with your teeth levels of hot. So, I’m wondering what the hell is wrong with them that they’re on here swiping for strangers. Chauvinists? Narcissists? Chronic bad breath? A persistent lisp? Racist? Generally intolerable IRL? Why can’t they find love without algorithms? I’m swiping their tight asses and topknots, to be sure. But….. the grains of salt I’m collecting along the way could season a Thanksgiving dinner.
Update: I figured out why they are undateable. It’s dick pic city out here. Y’all, this is not how you talk to women 😂 (Also, you’re giant viking dudes, we know what it’s going to look like. On top of rude it’s just completely unnecessary.)
Oh man. Storytime. I innocently fell in love with a silky smooth singing progressive rock band (Wytch Hazel, if you’re curious). I’ve been jamming to them smiting mighty demons, conquering in battle, and crowning their mighty king for two days. It finally hit me: Waaait. This is one mighty king in particular.
So, this is totally a Christian rock band 😒. They reel you in with that baritone crooning and the guitar licks of Satan, and before you know it you’re knocking on your neighbor’s door asking them about their relationship with skylords.
Oh well, I guess I love Christ now. Can I call him Christ? Or is it The Christ? Whaddup, The Christ? No, that’s way too formal.
God damn it. My band of the week is a Christian Rock Band singin’ about psalms. This is new territory.
I’ve pulled enough all-nighters at work to know the exact moment I’ll be kicked off the server for it’s nightly backup routine (4:48) for approximately 25 to 35 minutes, also known as forced naptime. And let me say, this morning’s forced naptime. was. glorious.
On this, my 31st trip around the sun, I want to announce that I am undyingly devoted to my weird-ass friends, who fill every day with laughter, previously unsaid sentences in human history, and utter happiness. I wouldn’t trade a single bizarre moment with these hooligans for a million bucks, and I don’t spew wholesome content like this nearly often enough to deserve them. Now, let’s go drink beer and throw axes in the forest while blasting Swiss folk metal.
P.S.: Pour one out real quick for this year’s starter kit.
I learned this lesson as a wee lass, but I pass it down to you, the next generation.
It seems like a good idea when you’ve got nothing going on. I assure you, it isn’t. Back away from the stud from accounting and rethink your life. Even a decade down the line, that fateful day/week/month fling will still annoy the shit out of you.
In Trump’s America, where knowing nothing about the world beyond the tip of your own nose is a compliment rather than an insult, I think about how we got here. While wallowing in the willful stupidity of this era’s heralds and princes, I often flashback to funny moments where my family exhibited the same confident ignorance that’s become an American cliche. For example, one time my brother asked me why I was wearing Arabic lettering around my neck. His voice disapproving, his toe tapping, waiting for an answer…. You know those slippery slope universities just pump out liberal-indoctrinated terrorist sympathizers. I guess he wanted to know why I supported ISIS?
It was an Om necklace I wear during yoga practice…. one of the most innocuous and well recognized symbols anywhere in the world (and Sanskrit to boot). The greatest part of this story? Years later, he works for the bureau. It’s a bumbling American sitcom in action. These are the people who can muster the nuance to discern carolina from memphis bbq but will insist that Sikhs blow up airplanes and casually suggest that African nations get over that whole colonization followed by power vacuum inter-tribal warfare thing and get those economies pumping in order to be respected on the global stage.
P.S., I forgot to wish the web a happy Valentine’s Day! Sorry, I was grating cheese blocks for literally hours. #liveyourbestself #eatthecheese
I lost track (a great thing), but eventually I realized that it’s now been over one year and counting since I’ve sent or responded to a message on a dating site. It feels fucking incredible to be disconnected from those dehumanizing, lying cesspools disguised as self actualization. #offthegrid #readarticlesnotbios
The Christian Right’s condemnation of Islam seems like a performative way to absolve themselves of criticism when many of their ideological issues are similar to that of Muslim fundamentalists. Many of the same people who decry “Sharia Law” being established as state law are perfectly fine with the US becoming a Christian nation (either by law or “culture”), and even distort history to support it. What it comes down to is: The Christian Right wants exclusive rights to patriarchal Abrahamic religious law and fight Islam to protect their brand. It’s Post versus General Mills.
Isn’t it the most useless people who seem to have “PhD” next to their name in their email signatures? Is it because useful people prefer to work instead of spending four additional years and 30k doing what is essentially a second Master’s thesis (I know I know, I’m projecting :P).
I truly did used to think PhDs meant something. Perhaps they still do in the hard sciences. But… I work in the social sciences. How do these people go through so many analytical ringers at school and still come out being one of the most useless, non-analytical people on any team. Maybe it’s just my sphere of colleagues and contractor partners, but the examples I’ve seen this decade are so depressingly sad that it’s getting to the point where PhDs are a red flag for me. I just know this person will ask stupid questions, be three steps behind everyone at the meetings, and contribute nothing to the team except headaches. “Oh, you have a PhD? So, I will be leading this effort, doing most of the work, and carrying you to the conclusions? Okay then, great, let’s get started.”
People that have a mindset of “I say what I want and screw you if you don’t like it” have difficulty expressing complex ideas or exercising persuasion. It just seems like overcompensation for a lack of substantive ideas.
Key inspiration: the “He says what he means!” followers of Trump. Isn’t it funny how “what he means” is always racist, sexist, or otherwise inflammatory and empty of information?
My recommended ads involve vibrators, jumpsuits, and Target. It’s like internet algorithms knows me better than I know myself.
It’s amazing that just showing up a for a 9-to-5 makes women “career obsessed” at the same time it makes men “responsible”.
Guess how much I care about your casual misogyny, average middle america? Take it away, Peggy.
The Aziz Ansari exposé this week described what’s perhaps the lowest-stakes encounter we’ve seen mainstreamed as part of the #MeToo movement, and as such has launched the most interesting and impactful discussions on sex, consent, and male aggression I’ve seen in a while. The exposé has this ability to make people excruciatingly uncomfortable because it’s about regular people having regular experiences. It’s easy to hate a Weinstein. It’s less easy to hate someone who looks and sounds like you or your friends. As evidence, see…. well, nearly every response piece on the subject. Taking the temperature of the response pieces is something of an exercise in “If you don’t laugh, you’ll cry.” Whether articles come out for or against the OP, the consistent premise is that all women have been Grace. No one seems to be denying the universality of the woman’s experience exactly as described. The only disagreement among authors seems to be whether or not to care. I blink in disbelief. In the same breath, antifeminists admit awareness of our society’s pervasive disregard for women’s comfort and autonomy while using this very example as a way to deny it and declare women O.K.
We might be O.K., but we’d like to be good, great, fantastic! That’s what equality is all about. An anonymous comment on the Lindy West NYT piece sums up my reactions, so instead of reinventing the wheel I’ll simply leave this here:
Clearly Aziz Ansari was trying to rush things on a first date in a way that rushes to the male’s endgame rather than something mutually pleasurable and collaboratively reached between lovers. Some women are fine with the former, but most want (and all deserve) the latter, and for a man to expect the former is extremely presumptuous, disrespectful, and makes a woman feel terrible rather than pleasured. It is not rape, but it’s emotionally hurtful. Aziz treated her like a piece of meat as she moved away and even explicitly told him she didn’t want to feel forced. This ruins sex for women, and all people deserve to enjoy sex. Women have had enough of having female sexuality and pleasure ignored.
And then, there’s my lady Samantha Bee, who has the unique gift of being able to sharply and hilariously describe the precise feelings I’m unable to verbalize:
Part of enjoying [this modern world] is setting a higher standard for sex than just not rape, and women get to talk about it if men don’t live up to those standards, especially if that man wrote a book about how to sex good. [….] But listen, if you don’t want to tune into your partner’s feelings throughout sex, maybe you shouldn’t be fucking a person at all. May I suggest a coin-purse or a ziploc bag full of grape jelly. Men, if you say you’re a feminist, then fuck like a feminist. – Samantha Bee