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It’s been one of those days, and momentously, I feel I have (finally) totally, completely shrugged off the Disney/mass-media/conventional wisdom brainwashing, and declared myself cured of any inkling to co-habitate or otherwise with a person of the male persuasion, ever.
Punctuated in real life by an entitled asshole who had the gall to adjust my purse and put it in my lap on the way home, as well as a pair of equally-entitled tools at the gym today, I’ve totally had it. Rest assured that I realize that this next statement is a totally unfair vast generalization, but so be it – at this moment in time, it’s my absolute truth: Men suck. Patriarchy sucks. It’s a sucky goddamned screwed-up system, and I no longer wish to be a participant in this rampant bullshit suckiness any longer. I secede the heterosexual union, and declare kittens (and perhaps puppies) to be the natural companion for all sane women everywhere.

“Sometimes I wonder if men and women really suit each other. Perhaps they should live next door and just visit now and then.“
– Katharine Hepburn
OMG WON’T SOMEONE THINK OF THE CHILDREN?!?
For chrissake, I really hope this pearl-clutching-parental-fascism wave cools down by the time I procreate, because at this very moment in time? The thing turning me off the most is enforced proximity to the Stepford Mommies. I really don’t think giving birth inherently requires me to lose all sense of myself, or live a life of tedious, unrelenting piety forevermore.
(And, for what it’s worth, I think if these parties had been going on when I was a kid? My momma and I would have been on them like white on rice, cocktails/mocktails in hand, doin’ the twist.)

