ff

this week emily yoffe, aka dear prudie, wrote an exceptionally idiotic and irresponsible piece of victim-blaming drivel about girls and drink culture and rape.

i'm not linking to it cause, ew, dude, you don't deserve the traffic. i found it because they had her on to talk about it on double x, the slate so-called feminist podcast. i can't even begin to express my 'ugh' after listening to that bullshit episode.

i'm not surprised that people continue to write stupid ass pieces about rape being, really, kinda sorta, ohi'msorrytohavetosayit, alittlebit THE VICTIM'S FAULT... (but she's not 'victim blaming', she continues to shout at the internets.)

what surprised and sickened me is that double x talked about the piece as if it was: something new. like. OMG has anyone ever noticed that sometimes ALCOHOL is involved in the sexual violence perpetuated against women and girls?! and, WORSE YET, has anyone ever noticed that high school and university experiences often involve IRRESPONSIBLE DRINKING?!

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck that shit. sorry, but seriously. i'm not a journalist. i don't have research standards to meet. i don't have an editor reviewing my work... and yet i have been able to locate hundreds of hundreds of facts and statistics on rape in the US and canada. i've linked to a whoooole pile of them throughout my time feminist-fridaying. i'm also a baby-feminist. but in these few years of being concerned about the cause, i've managed to get a solid education about rape culture. so if you're going to get paid to write about rape culture, put in some goddamn time, do some fucking research, or shut the hell up and stop spewing your toxic pearl-clutching babble. what do you think you are doing to the girl who was raped when drunk? or the girl who was raped even though she did 'everything right'? what is the value of your 'advice'?

i've never been raped. yay me.
i have been completely and totally irresponsibly intoxicated. maybe even more than once!!! i went to unchaperoned parties in high school and university. i met strangers at parties or bars and i made friends with them or flirted with them or ignored them. one time when i was, like, 16 or 17 i went to a boy's house in the middle of the night with a few friends and we hid in his basement goofing off and flirting and our parents didn't know. i made mistakes and stupid choices and took risks.
but i never got raped.
because i was lucky enough that there was never a rapist around. when i was doing those things.
or when i gave rides home to people. when i lived alone. when i had new friends over for parties. or old friends... or stumbled home drunk and alone at night after a gallery opening in edinburgh. or not drunk and not alone, but still, you know, a women with my oh-so-rapeable bits just being right out there in the world.
i didn't get raped cause i wasn't with rapists.

so fuck you for implying that i somehow did something right that some other girl did wrong. or that i'm *lucky* to have made it through those experiences safely. just. fuck. you.

*just a reminder of a really GREAT campaign talking about rape that i'm so proud came out of my home town... just a reminder that talking to the ones who are making the rapes happen are the ones who we should talk to.

and once more for emphasis, fuck you emily yoffe. and shame on you.

ff saved my life

ohhi the internets. you may have noticed there was not a feminist friday post this week. i got confused cause it was a short week after the long weekend, and blah blah, friday was all upons me like whoa.

but check it out! today is a double feature! because the following invention is basically one of the most savingest-of-my-life thing i could stumble across. and most certainly falls into the totally-awesome-for-women category. HOORAY!

* cups and straws and so on that tell you when you've been dosed with GHB.



ummmmmm hello this is the BEST THING! oh MAN aren't you so happy?! i am SO happy. it ALMOST makes me want to run to the next frat party and go craaazzeh except, no it doesn't, ewww, why would i, no.

but. really effing awesome science. yes forever.

happy monday, partyheads.

ff

 YAAAAYYYYY! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! YAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYY!!!!

* a woman's right to booze

oh holy hell this is great. i am a particular fan of "a rum of one's own" and "female condom perignon"...

who wants to have a party where we invent recipes for each?! and weep over the states' newest movements in reproductive rights?!

(and an EXTRA SPECIAL BONUS VIDEO for you to keep you up with our local scandal...)

happy friday, casual abusers of alcohol and drug.

i me

i have put together some small collections of photos from the iphone from this last while. here is some of my life.

and a bonus. some magic... however did we manage it?!

rant

this is a non-friday feminist post because i had already written yesterday's post when something happened that made me foam at the mouth. and i don't feel like waiting till next week to talk about it.

here we go! let's look at this infographic of how sexism works, shall we?

{thank you, xkcd}

i saw this wee cartoon while reading melissa's piece about how feminism works. good stuff. 

and then i had a lovely example handed right to me! how lucky am i?! i was out with friends at a bar. i ordered a martini. a male friend - who as far as i know is a kind and caring and loving type of man - said to me:

'how on the market are you?!' with a sly, slightly condescending look and sassy smile. then explained to me that girls always order martinis when they're single and looking... he sees it all the time. a girl orders a cosmo and it's all a big show of being out there, available, looking for a maaaannnnn. (note. he's bar tended lots. so. he knows.)

here are some important facts. yes. i am rather-newly single. true. i am 'available' i suppose, and 'out there', although the idea of picking up at a bar makes me want to vomit a bit (a lot). i was drinking a dirty gin martini and not a cosmo... 

but. those things DON'T ACTUALLY MATTER AT ALL! because, actually, turns out, i like martinis. and i drink them. because. i like them. in fact, i drink martinis when i'm in relationships too! look at my instagram for proof. ask any of my exes. i ALSO drink martinis when i'm single but NOT looking. which is a thing which is possible, too. weird, right?

when i tried to argue those points, i was of course told that i was being defensive and (by a female friend, too) that that defensiveness was caused by the fact that i knew it was true. blah blah.

nope. that wasn't defensiveness. that was anger. anger that a girl can't drink a drink she likes without it being a big thing that girls do. you know. like sex and the city told us to do it. like shit girls say.

the man also asked me why i didn't just order a double shot of bourbon. and also argued that if i was drinking gin cause i liked gin, i wouldn't have ordered the 'bar rail' gin. my being frugal (or cheap, whichever you prefer) was not a thing, apparently. and. the fact that i didn't want bourbon... or beer, or wine, or vodka, or water, or sodapop, or or or... i'm not going to go into it.

know what tells you i'm on the market? asking my friends if they know of anyone who might be interesting. going on eharmony. going on dates with humans. my saying so. know what doesn't? WHAT I'M DRIKING. because actually, i am me. and not every girl/woman. 

now here's a picture of margene to diffuse some of my (and hopefully your) rage.

that is all. thank you.