Things I want to bitch about today
1. People who hate TV Shows, yet keep watching the damned show, then clutter up message boards with shit about how the show sucks and so forth and so on, ad nauseum. Go write some fucking fan fic, literally, in which Spike or whoever bones somebody who's not canon, then. Go do anything except watch the damned show and then be an asshole about it. Christ, get over it. God almighty, why do people do that? I mean, you hate the goddamned show. Change the channel. It's hard. We've all been there. Who hasn't watched Horatio Caine intone something in an octave-deeper voice, snap on his fucking sunglasses, and then stride off so he gets the last word? The horrifying fascination can't last, though. If you don't like Smallville, don't watch. And if you don't like it don't be an asshole and try and spoil it for other people. You're not Dorothy Parker and "OMG THIS SHOW SUCKS" does not an intelligent analysis make. Why do people do this?

MSTKing, however, should be encouraged. Any and all forms of wit should be encouraged, rewarded, and funded.

2. Women who can't disagree with other women without pulling sexist shit and then (2)denying it; and/or for bonus points (3) getting all passive aggressive and finally (4) claiming that women can't be sexist against other women. In fact, this is why I so love the Internet and all my weird Internet friends, every last weird one of you. That's a compliment, duh. Mundane women can be absolutely vile. Every time I venture away from feminist boards it's shocking to me how vicious some women can be to other women, all vying for some imaginary guy. Dude, you're never going to bone that imaginary guy. That imaginary guy is never going to bone you, even if you did meet him in real life, because you're not mature enough at the age of fifty to not treat him like he's a human being. No, he is not going to ride up to you on a white horse? Do you know horses sweat? Imagine that in your fantasy. Also, put in: spooge, and what to do with it, birth control, erectile dysfunction, vaginismus, giggling, burping, farting, the fact that you're insecure about your looks and shouldn't be, the fact that you your desire to be yourself has been stomped on for your whole life, the fact that you think that babies bring couples together, and the fact that the guy has a girlfriend in real life and is not, in fact, a tortured vampire. Or a witty vampire. Or whatever type of fantasy guy he is who wuvs you, does all the housework, and brings you roses every day and rides white horses around.

Oh, yeah, and you know what else? The heroine is not your rival. She doesn't exist. If she's well written, she has flaws and not cute ones. You know, the things you bitch about in other women? Yeah, you have them, too. Isn't that refreshing? We're all fucked up. Mr. Happy Butt of the vampire fantasy with the perfect Golden Globes probably has ratty old underwear, too. YOu're not perfect! Neither is anybody else! Hey, don't let that stop you from being vicious to other women, though. (Watch the trolls accuse me of that. Like this is the worst I'm capable of.)

The truth is, contrary to the oft-repeated accusation that feminists hate housewives, it's housewives who hate feminists. I hate it when women call other women sluts, whores, skanks, and so forth. Don't oppress other women. Don't be passive aggressive about it. Yes, you can be sexist even if you're a woman. And frankly, some of these mundane women are so vicious because they know how to hurt other women. Whether they're doing it for a real guy or a fictional one, it bites. Women who bury their aggression and hide it behind sweetness and light can be scary. At least feminists are aggressive enough and confident enough to be in your face and blunt.

3. People who keep getting reality and fiction confused. You're bitching that the heroine of a fucking TV show doesn't act like you would. Well, you know what? You're a fucking moron and it's a TV show about vampires so I kind of think the rules are a wee bit different, okay? Does it take thirteen pages of fucking qualifications and those damned polite prefaces that women have to do to really figure that out? Same goes with monster movies, zombie movies, and so forth. Don't be so anal you threaten to warp the space time continuum. Sure, nitpicking here and there can be fun. Being so anal that you apply the rules of real life to a fictional universe is annoying and reveals just how little imagination you have. Does it work in the fictional world of that particular verse? Yes? No? Then bugger off.

4. Myself for venturing out amongst fandom n00bs. God help me, but after a few minutes' exposure to the romantic-novel poisoned mundane demographic, I have a whole new appreciation for the kinkiest, weirdest, sickest, stupidest fans out there. Wymym type feminists? I love you. Fluffy unicorn-and-butterfly pagans? C'mon and have tea. Wiccans who do it because they saw a few Stevie Nicks videos? You're adorable. Stevie Nicks fans? Well.....Yeah, I went through that phase myself, let's have booze. Wincest, twincest, what have you, I love you all. No shocked expressions of pearl clutching, no mincing words, no pretense, and knock-down, drag out fights? Thank God for all of you, even the weird SPN fans.

Fandom n00bs tend to be pearl clutchers. Look, once you get online there's going to be sex mentioned. If you're fifty years old, have six kids, it's pretty obvious you've had sex. I don't care what you fancy sexually as long as you can write your way out of a paper bag. Sell it to me.

5. Sickeningly sweet sex scenes, also written by n00bs, who are uncomfortable with peepees and vajayjays and who think Britney is a slut. See subclause of number 4, above. Let's call it for what it is, okay? If I see the phrase, "Crushed her lips with his one more time", as written by somebody who's read way too much Harlequin and not enough anatomy I will scream so loud that dogs will perk up. Getting your lips crushed would result in a bloody mouth, which is not attractive. You're horny! Speak up and shout from the mountain top! No, it's not bad. Yes, real women do want to fuck. Yes, they do. Honest, really. Don't listen to what that preacher says. Don't listen to people who want to hold you back.

Sigh.

6. Women who can't debate and who simper and smile, then claw---yes, I said claw---subtly at other women, saying offensive things with a smile, then saying sweetly that oops, just a big ole misunderstanding, would you like a mint julip? God, do I hate this shit. I'm sorry, non feminists just bug the fuck out of me, but dammit, I'm not going to quit a fandom because some ex cheerleader is bottling up a lifetime's frustration and rage and won't let it out on the guy who actually pissed her off.

I used to work in fast food before I got a really good job at a factory. The other women at the fast food joint were either students or mostly divorced older women, unhappy and struggling to make ends meet. The most vicious one was a woman who delivered papers, had teenagers, and worked long hours. When these women found out I was dating the Boytoy---who was ten years younger than me, good looking, and nice---they acted like the Whore of Babylon with a cradle-robbing speciality. The clucking and the tutting and the bullshit coy remarks only got worse when he came to pick me up at work one night. Instead of pretending the coy remarks were harmless---which according to the rules of the game, was the accepted response so we could all get along---I kept calling people on their bullshit. This culminated in an ugly little incident when I got mugged and my chief tormenter answered the phone when I called in sick. Keep in mind, my knuckes were cut open, my eyes were black, my nose was cut and scratched, and I'd lost two teeth completely and parts of two others. "Well," said this woman. "No wonder you got mugged."

Yes, she actually said that.

"What?!"

"Well, you're always so aggressive and rude. Are you sure you can't work part of your shift?"

"I quit."

At the factory, my supervisor was an older, childless, and rough-hewn woman who nevertheless took it upon herself to tell me I should have kids. "I'm flying to Paris for the weekend," I replied. "I will certainly give it a shot, though." When I went to Moscow, I brought back souvenirs for everybody, even her. Shortly thereafter, my father died suddenly. At work, I had little to say of course and concentrated on doing my job. Then my boss confronted me. "Everybody has problems," she snapped at me. "You're just sitting there and feeling sorry for yourself." It was common for collections to be taken up for grieving survivors; my boss actively stomped on such an activity after my father's death----and then aggressively encouraged it when her own father died.

The first group of women were perfect examples of good girls gone awry, in the various stages of good girlhood, with the college girls not yet realizing that they weren't going to get much for not challenging the patriarchy, and the older women realizing they'd gotten screwed. Good girls to the end, they didn't blame men but took great delight in bashing other women who dared make choices that they had not dared create for themselves. The second woman, well, I think she was just a jerk, but still. Just because somebody's a woman doesn't mean I have to tolerate any shit from her. You have to earn my sisterhood, and the one way not to do it is to be passive and vicious. Being passive means you float along with the current, not responsible for your fate, knowing that you're damned if you do, and damned if you don't. Rather than fight, you drift along, blaming the only people you feel you can---other women.

I've always had female friends and allies, so I'm always gobsmacked when I run into these male-centered women who'll do anything for a man---even if or especially if he's fictional, kind of sisters in spirit to those women who marry death row inmates. Fictional or unattainable, the distant guy you don't have to consumate the relationship with is perfect for women who long after puberty are disturbed by sex and intimacy. This is as a result of the straitjacket women are put into regarding sex. Be sexy, but not too sexy; be approachable but not too approachable; be safe but not a bitch about it; be virtuous but not a prude. Some women chuck it all for feminism and do what they want. Other women just turn passive.

7. Oh, and while I'm at it I hate stereotypical roles for men and women. That means no 'boys will be boys' for guys and no infantilized helplessness for women. Phyllis Schlafly likes the latter and so do the Rules girls, but for anybody but a rich white woman, it's worse than useless. Also, in stereotypes, I've found that many 'perfect gentlemen' can be absolute assholes, while many rougher types are gentlemen in other ways. I hate the whole rigid roles for the genders anyway. Duh, feminist.

I've had dealings with the Sparklepony role models and you get the feeling they snorted up a whole romantic novel like it was cocaine and they're still wondering why they don't shit rainbow and fart fairies. They demand a great deal of men and think that if they obey the rules--be docile, pretty, skinny, have big boobs, be obedient and non-feminist---then they'll be rewarded. It doesn't work that way. They frequently ally themselves with men because, well, men are where the power is. It's a bad bargain all around. Saying good bye to old and familiar things is frightening but it's exciting too. It's like dating my old boyfriend. He was a passive aggressive jerk and I got horrible headaches for the first time in my life. It was a momentous decision to end the relationship---he was my first boyfriend, after all----but I trusted my instincts and the headaches disappeared. When women believe that their only refuge in a frightening world is a man, of course they're going to be freaked out by women who've jettisoned at least some of that fear and need.

8. While I'm at it, just for the hell of it, fake libertarians. There's no equal playing field, so dream on and leave me alone.

9. The grown ass man who keeps riding his loud fucking mini bike thingie up and down the goddamned street like a fucking grade schooler. Try reading a book.

10. Add your own.

Argh.

More caffeine, dammit.