Let Me Down, Halloween

A new week, a new ode to the men who’ve let me down. Halloween-style. (Yeah, I said that, so what?)

1. Any man in a Ken Bone costume. Listen, I like a red cardigan and khakis from L.L. Bean as much as the next guy, but let’s be real here: Ken Bone is no American hero. And your celebration of him troubles me deeply. Undecided voters in the most obvious election of the century get no kudos from me. And they shouldn’t from you, either. Perhaps Ken has chosen a side by now. Perhaps I shouldn’t fault him for cashing in on his 15 minutes of fame. Either way, I am. If we’re beig honest (and we always are), I’d rather see you dressed up as a mammogram machine or “God’s Gift to Women” than Ken Bone.
2. Any man dressed as a mammogram machine. I bet you thought you were going to get off easy, didn’t you? Just because you’re a small step above a Ken Bone costume doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be pointed and laughed at as much as possible. I’m here for that if you need me. But really, a mammogram machine? Get real. You’re only slightly better than a Ken Bone costume, and you know how I feel about those.
3. Any man in a God’s Gift to Women costume. Hey guy! Congratulations on dressing up in the most hack costume of all time. And to be honest, I think its time you stop fooling yourself. Men that dress up as God’s Gift to Women are almost always anything but. In most cases, they’re the exact opposite. If you really wanted to be a gift to women, you’d dress up as a divorce. Or the 19th amendment. Or feminism.

Trust me, you can do better.

An Ode To The Men Who've Let Me Down

As I'm sure you've been reminded more than once, Father's Day is this Sunday, which for me means 1 thing: stopping to take a look around, assess where I am in life, and figure out all the ways I can blame everything on at least one of the men in my life. I've got a dad, and as such, I'm no stranger to disappointment- although, to be fair, with me as a daughter, neither is he.

This year, though, I'd like to broaden the scope, if you will (and I know you will). Instead of looking in my own backyard - I'm going to pan the camera a bit wider and see if there aren't men letting me down without ever having met me. Talk about power, right? Imagine being able to ruin my life (a feat which has taken me nearly 30 years to master!) without ever having told me I was too fat to be lovable at my 5th grade birthday party or not letting me see Cruel Intentions with my best friends the night it came out in 1997. Surely, I surmised, the only men who can truly disappoint me are the ones trying to fertilize my fuck garden, those who gave me embarrassingly low self-esteem, or if they're lucky: a combination of the two.

Boy! (Pun intended.) I sure was mistaken. As it turns out, men are letting me down left and right - literally all over the place, some for years and some only recently, and either way, I am disgusted. So, let's get to it.

1. T.I.

Recently, the Rubber Band Man himself stated that he could not vote for a woman running for president. Hasn't he heard of a Ride or Die? Regardless, I will say this: be still my heart, because it is broken. As a former superfan of the self-proclaimed King of the South, this is so upsetting. I supported T.I. I stood by T.I.P. Gun running charges? Had his back. Feds dragging him? Free T.I. Those days are long gone. His inability to support a Hillary Clinton presidency has me begging one question: Where would T.I. be without his own Ride or Die Bitch? What is T.I., after all, without Tiny? I perish the thought, and in my humble opinion, so should he. Gone are the days where I would give T.I. whatever he'd like because all he's given me lately is a subpar summer banger with a side of disappointment.

2. Donald Trump

I'm not trying to get too political here, but this needs to be said: Donald Trump's tan makes me embarrassed to be an American. As a staunch spray tan supporter (12 years strong), I understand that its not easy. An even application doesn't magically appear. There are so many steps: pre-exfoliation, soaking, sloughing, post exfoliation, water cleansing, oil cleansing, resurfacing - I mean, the list goes on. It takes hard work and dedication - two traits I thought The Donald was proud to embody. I couldn't have been more wrong. And its not like he doesn't have choices. Sure, he's not big on offering many options to, say, women when it comes to reproductive rights, but the spray tan is a kind and loving god. Superfine mist not for him? Fine! Go with a clear gelée, or even, might I suggest, a foam? Stop letting me down Mr. Trump. Stop letting America down.

3. The Actor Who Plays Jon Snow

Listen, I don't watch Game of Thrones, and I haven't read too much into this whole fiasco, but I'm still familiar enough with disappointing men to toss my hat into the ring, so to speak. I don't post on Reddit, I don't have adult braces, and I had friends in high school, so it goes without saying I couldn't care less about Game of Thrones. I don't know who Jon Snow is, and I don't care, but he sure sounds like an asshole. In a recent interview, Kit Harrington (the actor who I am told plays Mr. Snow, or is it Dungeoner Snow, or perhaps Count Snow or even DragonMaster Snow?) went on about how men face sexism in Hollywood and if I'm being honest, all I read was the headline, which was more than enough. No thank you, Lord Snow. I am disappointed in the short-sighted nonsensicality of this statement. It doesn't even deserve to be acknowledged so that's that. I will say this. Spoiler Alert: Eat me, Jon Snow.

4. Every Man In A Convertible

I know. It's hard out there for a pimp. But please, put your top up and turn down Three Six Mafia - you're in your forties (at best) and your khaki shorts are busting at the seams - your children are embarrassed and quite frankly, so is everyone else. Your Tommy Bahama shirt is faded and spotty, just like my morals - so trust me, I get it. But I'm telling you - stop it now. On behalf of your family: we're not mad, but we are hella disappointed. And take it from me, that shit is hard to contain. Disappointment is like wildfire - it will spread and it will spread quick. Imagine passing it on to your children. My dad probably never thought saying "You're Hired!" every time I blew out my birthday candles would affect his oldest daughter, but here we are. I urge you: stop now, before its too late.

I can only hope that every man (father or otherwise, mentioned above or otherwise) tries to be less disappointing in the year ahead, if not for yourselves, for me. Stop letting me down and who knows what kind of high-functioning adult I'd turn into. On second though, keep it up, boys! You're doing great!

Ghostbusted

You think feminism ruining the new "Ghostbusters" is bad? Player, please. Wait until it seeps in and destroys the most important parts of your life.

Please enjoy a short list of everything your quest for "gender equality"  has ruined in my daily goings-on, because if one thing's certain , I sure don't. 

1. My relationship with my father. (Or really any man, for that matter)

Listen, as a feminist, I know 1 thing for sure: men are the worst. It makes no difference whether we examine men individually or collectively, men have no place in feminism or capitalism or even being alive-ism. I've sworn off all men, baby men, plus any and all zygotes who might be men. And wow! It was easy, too! It's like I don't even miss the non-orgasms they were giving me several times a day. (More on that later.)

2. My legacy.

You probably aren't surprised to know that, as a feminist, I am strictly against any and all semblances of the traditional nuclear family, or any familial group if you want to get right down to it. And I'm okay with it. More than okay with it. Try celebrating a religious holiday with my family and then try to tell me you're "pro-family," I dare you. I know you're lying, because after a week with my parents you won't just be against famillies, you'll be advocating for euthanasia, and loudly, too. Suffice it to say, as a feminist, my blood line and my legacy ends with me. Since I've sworn off every man ever, of course. (Please see No. 1)  obviously means I'm staunchly pro-choice in every circumstance just like every single other feminist, ever. Since I refuse to procreate my bloodline will, of course, end with me. Some of you might be okay with that, but unless you're a feminist, I don't want or need your opinion.

3. My body. 

Listen. Gravity's been working against me my whole damn life. And feminism has only made it worse. Gone are the days of a tight, firm bosom. I had to torch my brassieres at the initiation ceremony, after all. And trust me, the lack of a good sartorial foundation is really taking its toll. Fingers crossed my new feminist sisters can make up for all the support I've been forced to give up.

4. R. Kelly. 

Growing up I was a staunch supporter of R & B's most notorious charmer. Nary a day would pass without Ignition (Remix) at full volume. Not to mention I got my first lap dance from a clumsy frat boy while listening to "Bump n' Grind." But feminism's completely ruined "Trapped In The Closet" for me. Bill Cosby's out, too. Every movie ever made by Woody Allen I've never seen? I'll miss out on those, too. Chris Brown? Totes gone. I'm okay with it, for now, I don't know though - something about preying on women (in every capacity possible) doesn't sit well with the feminist community. Go figure. But rules are rules, right?

5. My love life. 

I'll tell you what. Most men hate feminists, and I don't blame them. I imagine it's super hard to be in a relationship with a woman who demands equal treatment and doesn't even know how to make a sandwich. And there's the emasculation, too. We're taught that skill pretty early on in the indoctrination process. It's not like I miss the heartbreak though. It's exhausting looking for a man who isn't afraid of a woman who expects to be satisfied sexually several times a day, often at the gentleman's expense.  Plus the emasculation. Don't ever forget about the emasculation. 

6. Joyfulness. 

Who needs it anyway? More to the point: who's even joyful in the first place? Exactly. You know the old saying, "what you notice increases"? Originally that was about a feminist. A lot of people don't know that fact, but don't worry: I'm right here. 

7. My Non-Feminist Best Friends (even the famous ones)

Don't worry! I'm not a feminist who only hates men. I also hate some women - but only the ones who don't share my worldview. I mean, whats the point of that? Becoming a feminist means I no longer acknowledge any woman who doesn't proudly declare herself a feminist with the long denim skirt and unwashed hair to back it up. Real good feminists only surround themselves with like-minded real good feminists. Like attracts like, remember? Its a pretty simple concept, if you ask me. I'm not just talking about my boring old friends-from-high-school friends, either. Nope. Every non-feminist is out. Shailene Woodley won't be seeing me at her birthday dinner this year. No Christmas party with Kelly Clarkson in December. And I didn't even open Nicki Minaj and Susan Sarandon's annual Galentine's Day Feast invitaion this year.  Its like feminists say: "If I'm going to be miserable, then Shailene Woodley and Kelly Clarkson and Nicki Minaj and Susan Sarandon should be, too."

8. My voice.

Its gone, completely. You'd think I'd have remembered those lozenges that came in the Welcome Kit. Nothing soothes your tired pipes faster than a non-GMO organically sourced cough drop. If I'm being honest, there's a lot of yelling in feminism. I don't mind it, per se, but all the complaining - its exhausting. And they're all so angry about everything! And so aggressive and assertive over the dumbest things, too. A woman earns less than a man for the same work? Cue the feminist battle cry. Sexual abuse in the military is rampant? Fire up the feminist gang. 1 in 5 women will be the victim of rape in her lifetime? Sound the goddamn feminist alarm. 

9. Basically everything.

You're totally right. Feminism's ruined basically everything for me, and probably for you, too. Never mind that women who self-identify as feminists are more likely to have better self-esteem and body-image. Or that young feminist women were less likely to be involved in disturbed eating or whatever. And that whole sisterhood thing? Its such a myth. I'm dying here. 

I only hope it isn't too late.