YES I WILL SPEAK TO YOU LIKE I AM YOUR FUCKING MOTHER.

YOU COME HERE RIGHT GODDAMN NOW, PROGRESSIVE BLOGOSPHERE.

I NEVER.

EVER.

WANT TO SEE SHIT LIKE THIS AGAIN. (note: clearly, the problem is the event, NOT PAM’S POST, I just can’t find many other posts on this topic at the moment)

and you can lay the blame RIGHT ON YOUR DAMN SELVES because had you not been sitting on your asses going ‘WAH WAH WAH BLACK PEOPLE PASSED PROP 8′ and spreading these LIES and MISINFORMATION, THIS RACIST FUCKING BULLSHIT WOULD NOT BE HAPPENING RIGHT NOW.

I AM NOT NAMING NAMES, DAN SAVAGE AND HALF THE FEMINIST BLOGOSPHERE. BUT I HAVE SEEN MORE THAN ENOUGH POSTS, ESPECIALLY FROM YOU GODDAMN PUMAS, BITCHING AND WHINING ABOUT HOW THOSE BLACK PEOPLE ARE JUST KEEPING YOU DOWN.

SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP ALREADY.

DID YOU BOTHER TO PARSE THE NUMBERS? NO YOU FUCKING DIDN’T BECAUSE CLEARLY YOU ARE TOO GOOD FOR ACTUAL ANALYSIS. PLEASE SEE PAM’S POST FOR SOME ACTUAL FUCKING CRITICAL THINKING.

listen everyone and their fucking toaster knew that prop 8 was going to win and it was because the no on prop 8 campaign did not have enough money, was late in the game, and was in the end NO MATCH for the yes campaign and for the religious and conservative voters who had been reached by that campaign.

so i NEVER, EVER want to see the progressive blogosphere go ‘oh dearie me i don’t understand how you could say i am racist omg why do you hate me!’ and then go off crying when someone finally throws up their hands and says ‘i give up, cracker.’ BECAUSE I AM GOING TO POINT RIGHT TO THESE INCIDENTS, AND YES IT IS THE FAULT OF THE BLOGOSPHERE. ALL YOU SPREADING THIS BULLSHIT AROUND YOU SHOULD BE FUCKING ASHAMED OF YOURSELVES.

i don’t know shit about the black community and homophobia within it. i am not black and i am not in that community so this post ISN’T FUCKING ABOUT THAT and i’m sure you could find a million posts with the wordpress post search about that very topic, alright? because i don’t KNOW A GODDAMN THING ABOUT IT. what i DO know is that I NEED A FUCKING CIGARETTE BEFORE I FUCKING SCREAM AND MY MAN WILL NOT BE HAPPY IF I WAKE HIS ASS UP.

BECAUSE YOU NEVER FUCKING KNOW, DO YOU?

okay y’all i guess this would categorize more as a ‘personal problem’ thing but bear with me. i cannot sleep because of this.

i was introduced to feminism because ’something bad happened to me.’ i didn’t know what it was, but i knew it was bad.

cut for triggering-ass sexual violence shit. after the triggering sexual violence content comes a question about feminist parenting and whether you, as a feminist parent, would want to know if your child was abusive or a rapist, and if you would even believe anyone if they said it? and some statements on those thoughts.

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.