BECAUSE KYLE PAYNE DESERVES FUCK ALL.

I’m a bit late on this, but life has been hell with classes. you see, this semester, I take 2 classes at SUNY Ulster, and 2 at New Paltz. these schools are 20 minutes away from each other, 15 on a good day, and both are 15 minutes away from where i live. ugh. also, i put up a header! i like it lots, except that’s not what it really looks like BUT WORDPRESS KEEPS FUCKING IT UP. that’s ok one day i will finally throw in the 15$ to do the custom css.

WHATEVER, THE POINT IS, I’M LATE, I’M SORRY, BUT I FOUND OUT THAT KYLE PAYNE WAS SENTENCED TO A LAUGHABLE SIX MONTHS IN THE COUNTY JAIL.

Miserable fuckBlogger sentenced to six months in county jail, via the Iowa Independent.

If we’ve forgotten, Kyle Payne was the radical feminist activist who decided that it would be such a grand idea to use his positions of power and respect to grope and take photographs of a passed out woman.

So I went on over to this parasite’s blog and found his most recent entry, Because You Deserve to Know.

Oh, how people like this should just NOT FUCKING SPEAK. HOLY SHIT.

If this was a real ‘you deserve to know’ post, it would’ve gone a little something like: ‘hey y’all I’ve been sentenced to six months in the county jail, i am an enormous fuck and i should’ve been sentenced harsher but there you have it. see you around.’ in fact, i would honestly prefer if people like this attempted to simply drop off the planet and avoid human contact. but no, this is a manipulative piece of shit, so this thing is like FIVE HUNDRED PRINTER PAGES of self-pitying bullshit AS IF ANYONE GIVES A FUCK ABOUT HIS PRECIOUS LITTLE PROBLEMS OR WHY HE DID IT OR ANYTHING. CHRIST HOW INTO YOURSELF CAN YOU *BE*?!

This is below a cut because the quoted text includes this miserable cretin describing the assault he committed, and because this post is getting too fuckin big.

SHE GOT ME SPENDING.

I finally have gotten used to this OMG STATE OF THE ART HOLYSHIT ERGONOMIC keyboard so I can type a post without wanting to throw it out the window. There will probably be typos still, though. Sorry.

but, uh, okay, here we go.

listen. i’m a disabled lady. I have PTSD and Nonverbal Learning Disorder. I was born with the latter, it seems, and I acquired the former when I was 16. So ever since I was able to begin working, I haven’t been able to work any more than 15 hours a week. i am waiting on this illustrious court date to get my disability money. sigh.

i go to college because i love taking the courses and learning shit. i go to a little community college where almost everyone is poor and not ‘college-aged,’ either they are high school drop outs who decided to go to school right after, or they are people who made it to 25 and wanted to try to do something to increase their earnings. i wish i could go to this school forever but it’s only a 2 year. after this, i would like to go to a state school. even if i HAD the grades to go to a private university (lolololol) i wouldn’t because the culutre of privilege and money absolutely INFURIATES ME and MAKES ME ILL.

my parents are middle-class-ish. my father ran away from communist Romania in the late 70s and married my mother, who immigrated from Montreal to be with him in New York City. they began their own small business fixing x-ray equipment during Reaganomics and were surprisingly rather successful until the end of the dot-com era. i did not grow up poor. but i see my impending poverty right before my eyes and so you can understand my worries and anger. also, i never learned any middle class skills. my parents became middle class by chance, basically. i mean, of course they worked hard for their business, but a lot of it was luck, as everything in life is. and more importantly to my point, they did not do it by going to college in the US and climbing the corporate ladder and making resumes and bullshit. so i never learned that.

eventually, i did. i was handed to a job coach or whatever they are at county mental health and she taught me everything i needed to know and i have my little data entry job because of her.

and everything i learned made me sick. the resumes, the application process, how to do an interview ‘right,’ the cover letters. it was all so fake, and privileged, and it was such a GAME. imagine, a game so you can survive! it was like the advice you get in middle school about boys. ‘now, seem interested, but not too much or else you’ll look desperate! and dress pretty but if you go overboard he’ll think you’re a slut!” that’s basically the advice i got for getting a job, except you know, the language being geared towards getting a job.

this shit is sucking my soul dry. i have to quit this job next week and i’ve been getting teary all the time, afraid i’m surely making the wrong decision, and i will look lazy and everyone will be disappointed in me. damien says he won’t be, which is nice, but y’all know what i mean.

now listen i’m not trying to be one of those artfucks who watch david lynch movies and drink soy chai and whatever being like, ‘oh, capitalism really is so awful! sigh! we should all just be nonconformists! *sip of soy chai*’ but i try to live my life according to what i think is right and moral.

I’M MAD.

I am. And that is the big point of this blog.

I am so tired of trying to explain my point of view, explain concepts of feminism or racism or intersectionality or GLBTQ rights or fatphobia or WHATEVER to total n00bs. That is not my gift. I have never been one of those people who can sit down with someone and hold their hand through unpacking privilege and what have you.

For years, I have been the friend that my friends turn to when they’re mad. When their (ex)boyfriend does something completely off the wall. When an abusive family tries to get themselves back in the picture. When a friend says something absolutely unspeakable. During the time that they go through the ‘anger’ stage, they come to me because I am always angry right with them and my anger is like some kind of catharsis for them. Or something? As I understand it, anyway. I’ve also been told that the shit I say when I’m mad is so ridiculous they have to laugh, not at me, but just at the general thing I’m saying, and it makes them feel better.

I like this quality of mine. So why not use it to make a blog?

I’m not here to explain things. I know so many people who would do such a better job at it and they are on my blogroll and their own blogrolls etc. I think being part of an oppressed group is partly a constant bereavement process — grieving the experiences you’ve had, the rights you do not have, the abuse you endure. And I’m here for when you are in the anger stage and need someone to be mad right with you.

Because I am. And I am indeed the classiest lady you will ever know and so many classy things will fly out of my mouth when I’m angry your pinky will be up in the air in no time, don’t worry.