Unfucking America; The Adult ADD Guide to Social Justice Activism

They say the first step to recovery is recognizing you have a problem, but if you don’t already know that America is fucked, I can’t help you. Tell whoever is reading this to you that this is not suitable for children and to stop feeding you paint chips.

On to step 2:

Accept that change will be a slow, tedious process of trial and error, and remain patient.

I find this difficult because I have a bad habit of “all-or-nothing thinking”, e.g.; If I don’t have time to finish all the loads of laundry, I’ll most likely put it off for another day and buy some $4 leggings en-route to work instead of just starting a small load of necessities.

As silly as it sounds, it’s a vicious cycle (Ha! “cycle”! Get it? Like laundry cycle? *high fives self*) that (have I mentioned my ADD?) I’ve been in cognitive behavioral therapy for two years to break.

This mindset haunts me in every aspect of my life, including social justice activism, but like my shrink said:

“If you don’t feel well enough to clean the house, then commit to cleaning one side table. If one table feels like too much, then commit to cleaning out your pocketbook. If the pocketbook feels overwhelming, then clean out your wallet, but remind yourself it’s always better to do something, no matter how small, than to do nothing”

Translated to activism:

“If you can’t fly, run. If you can’t run, then walk. If you can’t walk, then crawl, but whatever you do, you have to keep moving forward”

-Dr Martin Luther King

Step 3: As a rabid feminist with anger issues and no filter between my brain and mouth, I put fuckboys on blast just for fun; as a white-passing cis-woman, I can be blinded by privilege, and thus cross the fine line between speaking out against oppression, and speaking for the oppressed, so always be willing to listen to criticism from  people with less privilege than you without being defensive.

Stolen without permission from Fat, Loud, and Not Going Away

Stolen without permission from Fat, Loud, and Not Going Away

Stolen without permission from Unpacking The 'F' Word

Stolen without permission from Unpacking The ‘F’ Word

Step 4: Never give up, never be silenced, never keep quiet. You know what they say about well-behaved women? NOTHING! We’ve yet to win a single right by asking nicely. Set fire to the universe until we’re heard!

  • There are plenty more ways to advocate for social justice, and I encourage y’all to add them in the comments, but on account of my ADD and inability to math, four steps are all I can manage 🙂
  • As always, thanks for reading!

TL;DR version:

 

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Flashback Friday; Asshole Brother Turns 30!

30 years and 1 day ago, I became a big sister to my asshole brother. As y’all can see, I was thrilled:

Today’s post will be short, just a photo montage of me and dorkface throughout the years.

Definitely NOT rat poison in the bottle!

20150522_150840

In our tree house, circa 1990. Little bastard looks like he’s plotting all the ways he’ll make my life miserable, meanwhile, I’m the picture of youthful innocence.

Christmas 1989

Halloween 1987

Halloween 2005

Valentine’s day 2015. I got stuck babysitting Asswipe 😦

One of mom’s famous fancy cakes, she even pipes orange frosting inside so it would look like carrots growing when sliced.

Happy birthday, buttmunch.

Fan Mail; Five Signs You’re an Insufferable Twatwaffle and How to Recover

Dear Hummuscidal,

Instead of blogging and posting selfies, why don’t you go to the gym instead, tubs?! What makes you think everyone wants to see your tits and fat rolls jiggling around? Wear a bra and put some clothes on! You think you’re sooooooo cute, but you’re just conceited and fat! You’re promoting an unhealthy lifestyle and costing the healthcare system *billions*!!!!

-Some chick who definitely did NOT go to school with you, never bullied you, and definitely is NOT jealous I keep catching my husband stalking your page

Thanks for writing, Some Chick! I hope you don’t mind I took the liberty of correcting your spelling and grammar errors and will now translate your inquiry from frothy douche-baguette to English:

Dear Hummuscidal,

If women like you are accepted and seen as attractive, then all the hours I spend in the gym and subsisting on baby carrots will be wasted because I have nothing to offer the world except my narrow ass. How do I learn to exude confidence like you so I’m not forced to tear down others in order to feel better about my unfulfilled existence? 

-That chick whom karma was kind enough to let you watch get destroyed

I’m glad you asked! I’ve written about this subject extensively before, but as the weather gets warmer, I find that it bears reiterating.

How to Stop Being A Twatwaffle and Start Being Confident:

Step 1: Admit to yourself that you’re a sanctimonious, insufferable twatwaffle. If you’re not sure whether you’re annoying the fuck out of everyone or not, here are five symptoms to watch for:

1) You assume everyone wants to be like you, demand everyone have the same priorities as you, and offer unsolicited advice, even if the recipient has made it clear they don’t give a furry flying fucksock what you think.

2) You find yourself making disparaging comments about things folks have little to no control over such as income, class, appearance, where they live, where/if they went to school.

3) You assume things about people based on their appearance alone.

4) You live by the mantra “If I can do it, anyone can! No excuses!!!” and never take into account not everyone has the same opportunities and privileges.

5) You often find yourself joining conversations uninvited and having nothing to do with you, and subsequently losing your shit when you discover your comments have been deleted and/or you’ve been blocked.

Step 2: Now that you recognize yourself as self righteous busybody, find a new hobby. You don’t have to be good at it, as long as it’s fun and distracts you from telling others how to live.

In addition to blogging and cooking, I also enjoy quilting, upcycling trash into crafts, finding new ways to drop the ‘f’ bomb, putting fuckboys in their place, writing lunch notes for my dad, Netflixing, and creating new words for the Niktionary.

Step 3: Cut the bullshit. Forget about those silly things you “have” to do. Don’t feel like wearing makeup, heels, or shape-wear? Don’t. Don’t feel like hitting the gym? Don’t.

Of course you still have responsibilities; you still have to water the kids, walk the dog, pay the bills, call your parole officer, etc, but if it’s not an obligation, and doesn’t make you happy, don’t.

Some may argue that cutting the bullshit should come before finding a new hobby, and if you think that’ll work better for you, do it. I advise finding a hobby first because having something to look forward to will make cutting the bullshit easier.

Step 4: Unlearn the victim mentality. You’re not being “bullied” because no one cares about how you think they should live their life. “Tits and and fat rolls jiggling around” in no way affects your well-being. You are not owed health by anyone, and for fuck’s sake, just stop with the healthcare costs bullshit! You’re furious about the extra 6 cents you pay every month to cover someone’s blood pressure checks, I’m not happy about being forced to share the same oxygen with you. We all have issues! Just like I don’t have the right to run you over with a monster truck just because you’re an ignorant fuckstick, you’re not entitled to demanding folks look and behave a certain way in order to exist.

Hope this helps, and if you have a question for Hummuscidal Maniac, feel free to ask in the comments, on my page, or in a private message.

As always, thanks for reading!

Oh! And since I enjoy pissing folks off, here’s yet another selfie 😉

Fan Mail; Tits Are Not Consent

Dick Lesfocker from Derpberg Va writes:

“Women who wear revealing clothes are sending a confusing message to men! If you don’t want to be treated like a hoe, then don’t dress like one! Us pitiful fuckboys can’t help how we perceive you!”

Well, Mr. Lesfocker, I’m going to break this down in several steps so I don’t lose you. Go find a grown-up to help with the big words, I’ll wait…

1) There’s nothing confusing about the word “NO“. You learn that shit in Kindergarten. You are not entitled to time, attention, sex, or even so much as a handshake because you were “confused” by a woman’s clothing.

2) Any “message” you infer from a woman’s clothing is a sign of your worthlessness, not hers.

3) A hoe is a garden tool, but seeing as how you objectify women, I’m not surprised that extra E stumped you. So called “hos”, i.e.; women who dare enjoy sex, don’t owe you shit. You do not get to decide who’s worthy of respect based on how they dress or your perception of their sex life.

4) If every woman you “perceive” as wanting your attention actually wants anything but, maybe you don’t exactly have the gift of ESP.

5) As long as men get to legally walk around topless, I don’t want to hear shit about the way women dress. Especially considering women are banished to bathroom stalls to feed their babies while you get to remove your shirt just for your own comfort.

6) Stop playing the victim because women don’t want to fuck you.

Hope this clears some things up and I’d be happy to correct any other patriarchal bullshit you believe.

 Neither are “tramp stamps”, though I prefer the term “lumbar decor”, sounds all classy and shit 😉

This is the best picture I could get of my ass as a selfie :/

Ten Judgey Douchetastic Things to Stop Saying to Parents

I’m not a mother, at least not to any two-legged youngins, I’m just sick of seeing my friends with kids attacked for inconsequential bullshit. Anyone who’s on any social network has born witness to this fuckery. I’ve seen my friends rebuked for every minor thing from letting the cat get too close to the baby (Are cats known for killing babies?!) to not using “natural” household cleaners (Which are even worse for the allergy prone, BTW) and one friend even caught hell for having DOCTOR RECOMMENDED blood work done! Here are 10 things in no particular order to stop saying for the betterment of society:

1) “I never hide vegetables in my kids’ food!”

Well la-di-fucking-da, good for you, but for fuck’s sake, I have to hide vegetables in my dad’s food! After working all day, I’m sure the last thing a busy parent wants to deal with is a meltdown at the supper table, so if all it takes to get a moment’s peace in your home is some pureed carrots hidden in mac-n-cheese, then puree the fuck out of some carrots and tell supermom to suck it.

2) “My one year old brushes his own teeth without being told!”

He only has two! How hard can it be?! Oh, wait. Never mind.

finished dumb dan 8Moving right along…

3) “I never miss a workout! Being a parent is no excuse for not being healthy!”

I’ve covered this one extensively already, but it bears repeating; STOP! Just fucking STOP already! If you enjoy being active, super. If you can find a way to be a present, involved parent, and work out, great! If your kids enjoy exercising with you, even greater! Post all the gym updates you want, it’s annoying as fuck, but you ain’t hurting anybody.

What I take issue with is belittling other moms for having different priorities (Don’t even get me started on how dads are exempt from type of fuckery… that’s a whoooollle ‘notha post!). First of all, nobody owes you health, wellness, thinness, or attractiveness, and if you think they do, please reevaluate your entire existence. Second, stop pretending you care about the “health” of other moms, you’re full of shit and it’s obvious you need a reason to feel better than.

fit mom2

4) “I never give my kids soda or fruit juice!”

There’s no disputing soda and juice are bad for you, but keeping them from your kids isn’t even in the top 10 list of ways to be a good parent. You may have a sugar ban in place, but I can assure you, Nana does not. Besides, what are your kids doing while you’re busy lambasting other parents over a fucking CapriSun?

5) “Why have kids if you want to have a career and pay someone else to raise them?”

Why are men never asked this? Because fucking patriarchy, that’s why, but that’s also a whole ‘notha post.

Some people have no choice; they either have to work to support their family, or they must stay home with sick or special needs kids, but let’s pretend we’re in an alternate universe where working vs homemaking is a choice for everyone. Then the question could be reworded to “Why even have kids if you’re not willing to let them socialize and learn from professionals specially trained in early childhood development? They must be terribly bored staying with you everyday and they’re going to have awful separation anxiety when you send them to school!” Either way, it sounds ridiculous because kids can and do thrive in a variety of environments.

6) “Don’t trust the government with your kids!!! Home school!!!”

I’m a huge proponent of home schooling, but it’s simply not an option for everyone. SN; 9 times out of 10, it’s not the teacher that’s unreasonable, it’s bureaucrats who have no training in childhood development whatsoever creating the infamous Shit Outta Luck tests, but again, whole ‘notha post!

7) “I never let my kids watch TV!”

Really? Then what are they doing while you’re sipping melalueca oil and blogging about your perfect, organic, pesticide and vaccine free “homestead”?

8) “My kid’s soooo smart, he tells me when he needs a diaper change!”

Then it’s time to start potty training, shut the fuck up.

9) “My kid was potty trained by the time she was 1!”

Unless she willing went before being told, wasn’t forced to sit until something happened, wiped, flushed, and washed her hands, you were potty trained by the time she was 1.

10) “My house is always clean and organized and my kids always make their beds and put their toys away!”

Congratulations on raising obedient robots, but don’t delude yourself into thinking you’re somehow a better parent or more “hardworking” than your messy peers. Organized people are just too lazy to look for stuff.

Yes, kids need chores and responsibilities, but understand that those chores and responsibilities vary form household to household. I was never required to make my bed, but I could sort/wash/fold laundry and cook meals for the family by age 10 without supervision.

And now a fun trash to craft:

We don’t have recycling out here in BFE, so we upcycle instead. These aquariums are made from used paper plates wiped clean, and painted blue with tempera paint, (yeah, I use PAPER plates! What, bitch?) scrap paper cut into confetti, seaweed, and fish shapes, and glue sticks.

I use an old plastic veggie tray to separate the lifeforms (Yeah, I buy pre-cut veggies, you gotta problem with that? Come at me bro!)

 My nephews had a blast making these, but they’re also ecstatic about throwing rocks in a creek. Kids are weird.

Flashback Friday; A Better Late than Never Fuck You to Mrs. Kearns and Sugar-free Strawberry Lemonade

Sorry, y’all, I haven’t done a flashback Friday in a while on account of my ADD (Is it safe to put coconut oil in my ears? I should google that. brb…)

Anywho, though I try not to hold a grudge (HA!), I often remember weirdly specific details of my childhood at random times, and while thinking of the plot for my second novel, my train of thought led me to my fifth grade teacher Mrs. Kearns (sp? Anyone who went to Walton Elementary in the early 90s? I don’t care enough to check myself.)

That old sack of dicks was pure evil! In addition to referring to the civil war as “the war of northern aggression” and slut shaming me in front of the entire class for wearing a *gasp* sleeveless dress on a 100+ degree day in a tiny classroom with no air-conditioning, she encouraged the class to bully me and a couple other classmates whom she deemed unworthy of basic human decency. What a coincidence the three of us were the only not-white kids. Don’t get me wrong; she hated white kids too, as long as they were poor.

If we offended her in any way, from asking a question she felt we should have already known the answer to, or needing to use the pencil sharpener, we’d be forced to stand outside (regardless of weather) until she calmed the fuck down.

The first few times this happened, I was devastated. I had never been in trouble or even sent to the principal’s office before, so I’d sit on the sidewalk and cry, and then she’d poke her badly permed, wrinkly, scrotum head out the door to call me stupid and yell at me for crying.

After a while, I learned that sitting outside was a great way to escape her wrath and the bullying from my classmates, so I’d purposely annoy her and await my “punishment”. She once threw me out for wearing a temporary tattoo of a heart on my upper arm. I wasn’t even trying that day! She accused me of “attention seeking”, yet she’s the one who interrupted her own lesson to point out something that had gone unnoticed all morning? Makes perfect sense.

Speaking of bullying from classmates;

Fuck you. Chris Headrick!

Fuck you, some dude named Ben whose last name I don’t remember!

Fuck you, Aaron Schilenger!

Natasha, you’re cool.

Fuck you, some chick named Dana whose last name I also don’t remember!

Fuck you, Morgan Beale!

Fuck you, about 20 other twatwaffles whose names I can’t remember!

Where was I going with this? Oh, yeah!

Prince George county schools used to participate in the “accelerated readers program”, which was really just blatant exploitation of students to reward the shitty school system with additional funding, but the way it worked was Newberry award winning books were given an arbitrary points system, and for each book read, students could turn in their points in exchange for junk food, soda, slap bracelets, and mini troll dolls (for readers under 20, trolls are the predecessors to beanie babies).

Being that I gave nary a flying furry fuck about islands of blue dolphins or vagabond siblings squatting in an abandoned boxcar, I chose to forgo the trinkets and read stuff I actually enjoyed, Goosebumps, Bone Chillers, (this is incredibly mortifying to admit)  Babysitters club and *shudders* Sweet Valley Twins.

Scrotumface was having none of this “fun” business in her classroom! She accused me of being a “bump on a log” and said I needed to be more of an “eager beaver” (ohhhhh, if she only knew 😉 ) and when I still didn’t didn’t acquiesce to her literary demands, you guessed it; she sent me outside, only this time with an assignment “If you don’t like what these college educated scholars wrote for spoiled, ungrateful brats like you, then write a better story!”

I sat on the blistery hot sidewalk in my white denim skort *shuddersx4* and wrote a short story called Premonition (pretty impressive word for a 10 year old, if you ask me) about a 10 year old girl who dreamed about bad things happening before they happened, and was thus always able to thwart the catastrophe, until one day, she dreams of her own death in a car accident at the age of 11 and must spend an entire year avoiding car rides. Maybe not a Steven King quality thriller, but considering I was put on the spot under duress, I did a damn fine job.

Of course Book Nazi was displeased and told me I’d never be a writer and that I wore too much makeup (bubblegum lipsmackers is considered makeup?!) and cared more about earrings and shaving my legs than school. Seriously, what. The. Actual. Fuckity fuck?!

So my second novel is dedicated to you, Mrs. Kearns. Suck it, cuntcake. Oh, and here’s a photo of me “seeking attention”. Take note of the makeup, nosering, tattoos, and boobs, and blow it out your ass. I’m a writer, Bitch! Bless your heart 😉

Does anyone stick around for the recipes anymore?

Sugar-Free Strawberry Lemonade:

1 cup each lemon juice, strawberries (or any other fresh or frozen fruit of your choice), splenda, and ice.

6 cups cold water.

1 cup clear liquor of your choice (flavored vodka or rum works great!) “Optional” (Haha! Booze is “optional”?! Bitch, please!)

Put everything in a blender and blend the fuck out of it.

Fuck the Duggars! Nineteen Xenophobes and Counting.

“But they seem so happy!”

“Live and let live”

“I agree with you, but you’re too hostile.”

“They promote family values! We need more of that in America!”

“You’re the one being intolerant! You have to respect their religion!”

These are just a few of the responses I get every time I speak out against the fuckery that is the Duggars (I took the liberty of correcting the spelling and grammar, and turning off the caps lock) so let’s queer up a few things. (<— See what I did there? Queer up instead of clear up? *crickets* Seriously?!)

Let’s start with 19 fucking kids.

There’s not much I can say that hasn’t already been stated, so much to my chagrin, I’m going to quote raging misogynist and anti-vaxxer nutjob, Bill Maher;

“If you had 19 cats instead of kids, you’d be on hoarders.”

If they were a daycare center, they’d be shut down and there would be widespread media outrage at how “irresponsible” it is for one person (I’ve watched the show, Jim Bob doesn’t do shit.) to take on 19 children.

Only, it’s not just one person, the older girls gave up their childhoods to raise the younger siblings (boys are absolved of all “woman work”). This is where everyone whines “But they seem soooooo happy”.

No. They fucking are not!

From Michael and Debi Pearl’s Training up a Child, whose methods the Duggars proudly advocate:

To allow your child a time of rebellion and self-will, whether it be around the other parent, grandparents, older brother or sister, baby sitter or peers, is to allow rebellion and self-will to stay alive. The seeds of rebellion will always be there to come to fruition when the external pressures are lessened. You may be controlling their outward actions, but you are not building character.

In a family submitted to the light of God, the children should be in such general submission to the understood principle of conduct that they are submissive to give and receive rebuke from one another. In the church, we are all accountable to one another. It should be so in the home.

Furthermore, the older children will be more responsible when given responsibility with the younger children. And what a load it takes off the mother! The younger children are always allowed a court of appeal. If the older child abuses his or her authority, it is a grave offense. The younger children soon learn that to make an unfounded claim against the older child’s discipline is to receive double discipline. The responsibility given to the older child is valuable training. It also lessens tensions, since the older child is not left helpless in the presence of an unrestrained little brother or sister.

In other words, the older girls are expected to raise their siblings without complaint, lest they be labeled rebellious and forced to endure this shit.

Now on to the “Live and let live, respect their religion” bullshit.

 By now, I’m sure y’all have heard about the robocall fuckery, but here’s an excerpt just in case:

Hello, this is Michelle Duggar. I’m calling to inform you of some shocking news that would affect the safety of Northwest Arkansas women and children. The Fayetteville City Council is voting on an ordinance this Tuesday night that would allow men – yes, I said men – to use women’s and girls’ restrooms, locker rooms, showers, sleeping areas and other areas that are designated for females only. I don’t believe the citizens of Fayetteville would want males with past child predator convictions that claim they are female to have a legal right to enter private areas that are reserved for women and girls. I doubt that Fayetteville parents would stand for a law that would endanger their daughters or allow them to be traumatized by a man joining them in their private space. We should never place the preference of an adult over the safety and innocence of a child. Parents, who do you want undressing next to your daughter at the public swimming pool’s private changing area?

Bitch, please! If you didn’t click the link, NINE transgender people have already been murdered this year, and that’s not counting those who’ve been bullied to the point of suicide.

From LiveScience:

“A staggering 41 percent of transgender people in the United States have attempted to commit suicide, according to a new survey. About 19 percent of transgender people report being refused medical care because of their gender-nonconforming status, and a shocking 2 percent have been violently assaulted in a doctor’s office.

These statistics are just some of the sobering findings from a survey of more than 7,000 transgender people conducted by the National Center for Transgender Equality and the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force, released in October 2010.”

“The Fayetteville City Council is voting on an ordinance this Tuesday night that would allow men – yes, I said men – to use women’s and girls’ restrooms, locker rooms, showers, sleeping areas and other areas that are designated for females only. I doubt that Fayetteville parents would stand for a law that would endanger their daughters or allow them to be traumatized by a man joining them in their private space”

Let’s humor Michelle’s mulleted “logic” and say those born with a penis are always male; then how does she propose we “protect” women and girls? An official cooter inspector outside the ladies’ room? I’m sure that’s MUCH less traumatizing than being forced to wonder what the chick taking a piss in the next stall is packing.

“I don’t believe the citizens of Fayetteville would want males with past child predator convictions that claim they are female to have a legal right to enter private areas that are reserved for women and girls.”

Hear that cis-gender male child predators? All you have to do to gain access to the girls’ locker room is undergo psychiatric evaluation, hormone therapy, have the gender marker on all formal documents changed to female, file for a name change, (all of which is totally free, BTW), purchase wigs, makeup, dresses, groceries (Men don’t belong in grocery stores! DUHHH!), and tampons, and you’re free to molest to your penis’s content!

Oh, wait… That’s bullshit. Trans people are more likely to be victims than perpetrators of assault.

I have ADD and I still managed to find these sources in like 30 seconds! That’s why I’m so “hostile” to these fuckwits, they’re willfully ignorant, as the information is out there, they’re just choosing to remain uneducated, and actively getting government  involved in mandating discrimination against LGBT people, with emphasis on the T.

These assholes are blatantly fear mongering, thereby contributing to violence and murders of transgender people; if I’m not supposed to be angered by this, please tell me how I should feel!

“They promote family values.”

Yep. When eldest douchelord, Josh Dugger isn’t busy forcing his wife to cook a meal for 25 with less than a day’s notice, napping while she’s in hour 18 of labor, hitting the gym in his scandalous basketball shorts exposing delicious slivers of kneecap *swoon*, or being an absent father, he’s selflessly working to take away the hard won rights of the LGBT community.

Now on to Jessa Duggar-Seawald, arguably the biggest asshole of the freak show. If you don’t feel like reading the links, I paraphrased some of her greatest hits:

 Just to recap; Dehumanizing LGBT folks + criminalizing being transgender  + enslaving women – reproductive freedom/alluring  corduroy skirts = “family values”.

I see shinbone! HARLOT!!!!

“You’re the one being intolerant! You have to respect their religion.”

I’m a proud, outspoken, atheist, but that doesn’t mean I’m intolerant of religious folks. I hate the belief, not the believer. I don’t give a flying, furry fuck who or what you pray to, but if you use your religion to make laws and/or hurt people, you’re a dickwad and I’m gonna call you out on your fuckery.

I respect everyone until I’m given a reason not to, and as evidenced by the length of this blog post there’s ample reason to say FUCK THE DUGGARS AND THEIR XENOPHOBIC GOD.