A Bit of the Old Ultra-Violence

In regards to Chris Brown being a misogynist asshole, I certainly have a lot of thoughts. Typically, I have a zero tolerance policy for men who hit women, unless, of course said women are asking for it or if you've already established a safe word with your partner (for future reference, mine fluctuates between Olivia Benson and Cinnamon, depending on how I'm feeling).

I'm not going to contribute anything new to this conversation about Chris Brown and his freak out at "Good Morning America" last week. His visceral violent reaction to things isn't shocking though it is a bit disheartening. Chris Brown comes across as not being self-conscious of how he's perceived because famous rappers have come to his defense, who are often misogynist in their own right. As a society, we love an epic redemption story, and it seems that for famous men that abuse women, we give them a free pass. Chris Brown and Charlie Sheen's tiger blood exempt them from public scrutiny or backlash.

In all honestly, in the past two years, Chris Brown has been known more for hitting Rihanna than his music. Let's not forgot that his punishment consisted of community service and anger management classes, which I'm not sure are working exactly. He wasn't even sent to jail! So, if Robin Roberts, a journalist, wants to say, "Hey, Chris Brown, you haven't physically abused a woman in a while...why not?" then ask it. I want Chris Brown to be uncomfortable and dance (get it? Because he's a good dancer, guys) around the question.

The Chris Brown thing, I can turn a blind eye to, but I'm just disappointed in ABC (for the Grey's Anatomy musical episode, for canceling Pushing Daisies) but also for how they passively dealt with the situation. Instead of banning him from future shows or even publicly flogging him, they welcomed him back, letting him get away with his deviant behavior.

Chris Brown, what a droog.

I just want us to be done with Chris Brown. We have Bruno Mars now, and he only has a cocaine habit. And from what I can tell, he would catch a grenade for me instead of throwing it at me for looking at his text messages.

Das Cünts

After a night of rather heavy drinking and begrudging support from my friends, I decided that I would start out the new year being a better feminist (and eating more pizza) and blogging about it. (I realize this is a cliched endeavor, but Skittles--the choice amalgamated Vodka, Kool-Aid, Mountain Dew drink of fourth wave feminists--gave me steel labias.) This is where I'll deal with the hypocrisy of my desire to be rather defiant and valiant in my strong feminist beliefs while still acting utterly helpless when seducing dudes. Just kidding! I tend to just emasculate any boy that crosses my path, in a really girly and giggly way.

Anyway, I will deal with the constant internal struggle I have about making rape jokes while bemoaning rape culture, about being a feminist and a Steelers fan, about wanting someone to tell me how cars work while also trying to check my own tire pressure. Amidst all of this, I will also figure out why Criminal Minds insists on savagely killing off its lady characters, determine why Mystery, the pickup artist, has come to be such an influential person in my life (I presume his gender bending ways are part of this obsession) and why Ke$ha's naked pics aren't completely horrible. But truthfully, I'll probably just comment on Jezebel articles, make really inappropriate vagina jokes, and photoshop my head on Natalie Portman's body.

In Hillary Clinton We Trust!