I’m not a hardcore feminist by any means. I find the bulk of the feminist movement to be a joke, not because I think women are a joke (hello, I am one), but because I saw how incredibly hypocritical many of these feminist groups were during the 2008 presidential election and I came to realize that they weren’t interested in promoting a particular movement, just their own selfish agendas. The way these groups ignored what was happening to both Hillary Clinton and Sarah Palin spoke volumes to me through their silence. Never once did I see them come to the aid of these women who were both in the spotlight of the entire world who were deemed incapable of holding whatever job they were campaigning for simply because they were women. Besides, I find that whole “womyn” thing to be incredibly stupid, and I personally like to shave my pits.
This isn’t to say that I don’t have my moments. I do get severely annoyed when I hear a male say I can’t do something because I’m female (keep in mind that I will admit when I can’t). I cannot stand when I hear a male say something is “woman’s work,” since the only thing I classify as “woman’s work” is carrying a human being in a uterus since a male really can’t do that (unless they’re going through that sex change stage and still have female reproductive parts inside). I take out my own garbage, can cut my own grass, and, if I really wanted to learn, I’m sure I could learn how to operate heavy machinery. I cook because I actually like to cook. I work in an office because I don’t want an outside job in the summer. I drink beer, watch sports, use foul language and burp. If this causes problems for you, tough. I’m not a feminist, but I’m not a mold of a Stepford wife either.
I just want to clear some things up to the males out there who may be reading this.
I’m not a scary bitch because I may disagree with you or call you out on something. I don’t care who I rant to, who I get in a debate with, or who I give my opinions to. If I think you’re acting stupid, I’m going to tell you. If I know you’re wrong on something you’re spouting off, I’m going to correct you. If I don’t agree with your opinion, I’m going to counter it. If my doing this causes you to feel emasculated, then perhaps you needed to lose your balls. Maybe now you’ll grow some bigger ones in their place.
Just because I’m female doesn’t give you an automatic right to call me one of the following names in a condescending tone: “sweety,” “darling,” “honey,” “sweetheart,” “baby,” or anything else along those lines. If you do, don’t be surprised if I start calling you “jerk,” “pig,” “dog,” “asshole,” or “bastard.” The only difference is that I won’t be condescending about it. I’ll be saying how I really feel.
I don’t like wearing makeup. I don’t care if it makes me look better. I don’t care, either, if it bothers you that I prefer pants over skirts, sneakers over stilettos and ponytails over curls. I rarely get out of my pajamas on Saturdays if I’m not leaving the house. I may even not fix my hair. If you want me to devote more time to my appearance, then perhaps you should lose the beer gut, wash the grime from under your fingernails, and take shower after you get sweaty. Have I “let myself go”? Nah. I just got to the age where I realize that I’d rather be comfortable than “pretty” to make some guy happy.
You are perfectly capable of getting your own beer out of the refrigerator and making your own food. Sure, if I’m up and near the general vicinity of the kitchen and don’t have to walk further than you would have to in order to grab a beer for you, I’ll get it for you. If I’m already making something to eat, I’ll be more than happy to get something for you as well. Maybe it’s the mother intuition in me that has this desire to have children raised to be able to take care of themselves that makes it hard for me to cater to your incompetence. I mean, what ever would you do if you were put in a situation where there was no one around to do everything for you? You’d perish. I wouldn’t want that on my conscience.
I’m not going to go along with everything you say just because it’s what some chauvinistic ideology says I’m supposed to be doing. If I don’t want to go to that restaurant, I’m going to say so. If I don’t want to go there on vacation, I’m not going. The word “no” is in my vocabulary, and I’m going to use it. Deal with it.
If I hear you call that girl who slept with 50 men a slut, then start talking about the 75 women you had sex with during your college years, you will be slapped. Yes, I think she’s a tramp. But guess what? So are you, asshole.
I have the right to talk, just like you have the right to ignore me. But don’t sit there and call me a nag when I’m harping on a topic that could have easily been resolved if you’d have just answered to begin with. If you’d just pay attention the first time, I wouldn’t have to keep going on and on about it. Right? Right. Trust me on this: It irritates us when we have to repeat ourselves just as much as it as it irritates you listening to it time and time again. Another thing, if I’m mad at you, I don’t want to have sex. I’m not “withholding” sex from you as some sort of punishment because you got me mad. I’m not even in the mood to look at you, let alone allow you to get off with my help. If you’re horny, and I’m in a bad mood, go whack one out.
I don’t know what it is about the male species, but whenever they get a small sniffle, they act as if they’ve contracted the Bubonic plague and have only mere hours to continue living. However, when I’m having my monthly visitor and am in so much pain I can barely move because my uterus decided it wants to fall out of my body, which causes me to feel like Freddie Kruger is in there having a good time slashing my insides, you just can’t seem to understand why I’m crabby. Just back off. Better yet, why not cater to me for a change? It might even get you sex the next week after I’m finished being mad at you.
I won’t lie – if there’s something good to talk about, I’m going to gossip, especially if it’s about someone I don’t like. Women do that. However, men, don’t act like you don’t gossip. Men are the biggest gossips around, and the only people who don’t agree with that are men. The only difference between women gossip and men gossip is that men call their gossip “conversation with the guys.”
I know men like to complain that women are insecure, and I’ll acknowledge that, yes, there are in fact many, many insecure women out there. I’m not one of them. But from what I’ve seen, it’s those modelesque type of girls that are the most insecure. You know the ones I’m talking about – the bleached hair, the lip injections, the boob jobs. Hello – they’re adjusting their appearance for a reason, guys! And do you know why they’re doing it? For you. Because you like to ogle over the plastic people and you find them so incredibly attractive. This is perfectly normal and I’m not saying you’re wrong for doing it. I just want you all to know that’s why there are so many insecure females out there. So don’t complain about a female’s insecurities when you’re more than likely the cause of them.
And for God’s sake, stop adjusting yourself and spitting in public. That’s just disgusting.
