Want to obliterate the likelihood a conservative woman would ever go home with you? Learn from columnist Ian Robinson who accomplished it in just two easy steps.
Step 1: Pen an utterly creepy 700 word paean to conservative women. Make it so God awful that people wonder whether it might actually be satire. And remember, don’t bother to disguise your desperation. The message should be loud and clear: “Please have sex with me. Someone? Anyone?” Bonus points if the reader is 99 percent sure you typed with one hand while touching yourself with the other.
Step 2: Publish your column in the Calgary Sun. (Don’t worry about your writing skills. Apparently the Sun will publish just about anything.)
Now if you’re truly dedicated to spending the rest of your days alone and unloved, consider these tips when crafting your own 700 words of concentrated woman repellent:
Reel ‘em in with an inoffensive title. Ian Robinson chose “Right-Wing Women Rock.” Who doesn’t love a compliment? A title like this is pretty much guaranteed to go viral in the rightosphere.
Reveal your fetish for high-heeled shoes. Robinson nails this one with seven paragraphs devoted to the subject. Here are a few:
The primary reason our womenfolk are at war with the looming spectre of the nanny state is because you can’t buy Jimmy Choos in a socialist paradise.
The only sensible footwear you’ll find in a right-wing woman’s closet are the Nike cross-trainers that go with her gym membership.
Everything else has a three-inch heel. Minimum.
Yep, nothing more enticing than a man who knows his Jimmy Choos from his Manolo Blahniks and expects any woman worth her weight in strappy sandals to know the same.
Broad brush conservative women as much as possible. Celebrating individuality is for suckers! Excessively broad generalizations are where it’s at, so be sure to convey that right wing women are a monolith of high-heeled, shoe-obsessed shopaholics. Follow Robinson’s example:
Left-wing drabs recycle. Right-wing women shop — and the government measures how much they shop every month to find out whether we’re still in a recession. Basically, the world economy depends on right-wing women buying shoes.
You never hear a right-wing woman break out statistics pointing out that only 25% of elected offices in Canada are held by women, and then whining about it.
No. A right-wing woman wants to get elected, she runs for office.
If she wins, great. If she loses … well, there’s always more shoe shopping.
Don’t forget, always bring it back to the shoes.
For good measure, destroy your infinitesimal chances with left wing women too.
Not for us the sturdy, honest calves of the New Democrat/Green Party female, honed on eco-tourist rainforest hikes.
Those legs are often on unfortunate display, extending from a knee-length tweed skirt as hairy as the legs themselves, and end in a pair of Birkenstocks.
I have yet to see a pair of Birkenstock women’s shoes that didn’t look like part of the required uniform for police SWAT teams. Sensible shoes are one thing … quite another to don a pair that look like they’re meant for rappelling down the sides of buildings with a Heckler & Koch sniper rifle slung over your shoulder.
In case you hadn’t noticed, yes, it’s all about the shoes.
Slip in your expectations of how a right wing woman ought to behave.
A right-wing woman hits the gym, swings past Sobey’s and has dinner on the table by the time you get home … while her left-wing counterpart is still stuck in traffic listening to Sarah McLachlan on her iPod and feeling morally superior about her carrot choices.
And when that plate of food is put in front of you by the right-wing hottie you had the good sense to marry, it will be 100% tofu-free. If you’re lucky, she just remembered to buy steak and forgot about the carrot entirely.
Right-wing women have traditional families, so they want to raise them themselves … or at the very least by a nanny they’ve vetted, rather than abdicating that responsibility to the state.
If she wants you to keep the shoe money comin’, she’ll have meat and potatoes (hold the potatoes) on the table every night before you get home. And she won’t gain an ounce, thanks to long hours of hard work raising your traditional family and working out at the gym.
To witness Ian Robinson attempting to guarantee lifelong abstinence, read the whole Calgary Sun column.
Via Hot Air Headlines, where I now see there are at least a few female commenters who dig this kind of stuff. Hey Ian, do yourself a favor and get yourself a HA account. It’s your only chance!
Brutal gang rape? Check.
Beating and robbery? Check.
Degenerate witnesses? Check.
Here’s the spin, courtesy of the school district where the vicious assault occurred:
“Dance was successful event and safe for the students that were there,” said Marin Trujillo, the West Contra Costa Unified School District spokesman. “This dance itself was a successful event.”
Successful? In the words of Inigo Montoya, “You keep using that word. I do not think it means, what you think it means.”
Three candidates are vying for the NY-23 congressional seat, but only two have any business running for office. And GOP darling Dede Scozzafava ain’t one of ‘em.
Most of Hoffman’s supporters aren’t looking to “purge the party of anybody who doesn’t agree with us 100 percent,” as Newt Gingrich recently suggested. In fact, my views on same-sex marriage are more in line with Dede Scozzafava’s than Doug Hoffman’s. But moderate Republicans need to understand that the huge show of support for Hoffman isn’t just about wedge issues and ideological purity tests. And it isn’t a referendum on big tent ideals.
It’s about rejecting a piss poor candidate who heartily embraced the use of thuggish Castroite tactics to intimidate and silence a member of the press. Whatever your views on social issues, that ought to be a deal breaker in America.
Dede Scozzafava cares more about her fleeting discomfort in the face of tough questions than she does about liberty and the First Amendment rights of a reporter. That’s why her husband, a local union boss, filed a false police complaint against Weekly Standard reporter John McCormack.
Here’s how the Scozzafava campaign described the encounter to Politico:
This self-described reporter repeatedly screamed questions (in-your-face-style) while our candidate was doing what she is supposed to be doing: speaking with voters (remember, those who will decide this election?). And then he followed the candidate to her car, continuing to carry on in a manner that would make the National Enquirer blush. I have no doubt he intended to follow her home, too. His actions were reprehensible. Those are the facts.
While Scozzafava denies that calling the police was her suggestion, she expressed her support for the decision. “I’m not going to be physically intimidated or threatened,” she said. “He has every right to ask questions, but he doesn’t have a right to ask them in the manner that he did last night.”
An audio recording later confirmed that the Scozzafava campaign lied about reporter John McCormack’s style of questioning:
In the audio recording of the reporter’s questioning played for The Associated Press by McCormack, the reporter didn’t raise his voice, but repeated his unanswered questions several times, including one about abortion.
Dede Scozzafava’s casual disregard for the crucial role of a free press is unforgivable. It is a weakness that cannot be tolerated in public officials.
As if that isn”t enough to undermine Scozzafava’s appeal, don’t forget that she favors federal card check legislation and supported the President’s stimulus package. You remember the stimulus, that $787 billion boondoggle that has created or saved a grand total of 656 jobs for Scozzafava’s home state. She also voted for tax increases over fiscal restraint often enough that her Democratic opponent is attacking her record on taxes. According to John McCormack:
She won’t say if her no-taxes pledge means she’d oppose a health care bill that raises taxes. She refuses, in fact, to say how she’d vote on a comprehensive health care bill. And this summer her husband was in discussions with Democratic leaders about her potentially running as a Democrat for the seat she is now seeking as a Republican.
Exactly how would her election be a boon for the Republican Party?
Scozzafava has garnered the blessing of the Republican establishment and endorsements by heavy hitters like Newt Gingrich. Even after the false police report debacle, the GOP and Gingrich haven’t backed down. They’re operating under the bizarre notion that continuing to dig will somehow get them out of the colossal hole they’ve created.
It’s time to put down the shovel because they’re dead wrong.
No laundry list of cherry-picked conservative credentials enumerated by Newt Gingrich will make Scozzafava less of a bully or more of a Republican. Even Scozzafava’s far left supporter Markos Moulitsas may want to rethink his endorsement.
So let’s postpone the philosophical discussions about the relative merits of third parties and make sure Dede Scozzafava stays put in the New York state asssembly. As reliably Republican as I am, when it comes to the NY-23 race I think those disenchanted Hillary supporters had it right: Party Unity My Ass.
“I think it as honorable to the government neither to know nor notice its sycophants or censors, as it would be undignified and criminal to pamper the former and persecute the latter.”
Oh, the jocularity of a good domestic violence punchline. Will jokes about women getting smashed in the face with glassware ever get old?
Searching for an angle on the domestic violence conviction of New York State Senator Hiram Monserrate, Haberman and his editors decided they couldn’t go wrong with a little light-hearted levity about the slash wounds Monserrate left on his girlfriend. The lacerations carved into her face by Monserrate’s water glass were so bad that the emergency room doctor notified police that a stabbing had occurred.
Are you laughing yet? No?
Well maybe you’ll get a chuckle out of Haberman’s report that Monserrate’s victim, Karla Giraldo, has agreed to marry him. For Haberman, the jokes practically wrote themselves.
But if a wedding is in store, it is never too early to think about the bridal registry. As a service, we checked out glassware at several prominent stores. With this couple, you want to be sure that what you buy is sturdy.
Pottery Barn has tumblers for $10 apiece, part of its “Montana” collection. Montana certainly sounds rugged. Despite the name, the glasses were made in China. “Each piece is hand-blown with thick sloped sides,” a sign said. Thick sides are a definite plus.
If $10 is too steep for you, Pottery Barn also sells glasses for $2 per. They are less elegant than the Montana but more solid. They even come with “Made in U.S.A.” tags. How many things can you say that about these days?
Still other deals can be found at Gracious Home. Hefty glasses sell there for as little as $2.49 apiece. Bed Bath & Beyond does better yet, with slash-proof tumblers going for as little as $9.99 a dozen, taxes not included. They aren’t very pretty. But they are almost guaranteed to keep a squabbling couple out of court.
What reader wouldn’t be rolling on the floor laughing at those knee-slappers? Because really, what’s funnier than a domestic violence survivor marrying her abuser? Luckily she has the New York Times to offer up advice about what sort of glassware will be least likely to leave slashes the next time she’s bludgeoned.
If this is the New York Times strategy for rebuilding readership, the editors might want to give Sandra Bernhard a call. I’m pretty sure she could use the work, and I hear she tells a mean rape joke.
Freedom of speech is guaranteed to all Americans. Freedom from judgment is not.
Consider the great décolletage debacle of ’09.
Meghan McCain threatened to delete her popular Twitter feed Wednesday night after receiving a torrent of comments about the revealing photo she posted. Although many reactions were complimentary, some were negative and offensive, calling the Daily Beast columnist a “slut” and admonishing her for displaying considerable cleavage. She wrote:
so I took a fun picture not thinking anything about what I was wearing but apparently anything other than a pantsuit I am a slut, this is … why I have been considering deleting my twitter account, what once was fun now just seems like a vessel for harassment … I am going to take some more time to think about it but seriously I was just trying to be funny with the book and that I’m a dork staying in … when I am alone in my apartment, I wear tank tops and sweat pants, I had no idea this makes me a “slut”, I can’t even tell you how hurt I am
Calling Meghan McCain a slut is infantile and idiotic no matter how skimpy her tank top. It’s a nasty, overused pejorative that only reflects poorly on people who fling it around. Much like calling a woman a mashed-up bag of meat, it has no place in polite discourse.
But Twitter isn’t prime time television and there’s no promise or expectation that every interaction will be polite. For the famous and infamous, it’s a vicious celebrity gauntlet, not a genteel afternoon tea party. Every tweet, every Twitpic, is an open invitation asking other Twitter users what they think of you. And sometimes they think you’re a slut.
Meghan McCain knows this. In fact, that’s why celebrities like McCain use Twitter. It’s a gargantuan, interactive global advertising platform offering unlimited promotion for the low, low price of $0.00.
I’ve followed Meghan McCain on Twitter for the better part of a year. She’s done a brilliant job of building a large following she can leverage to promote her upcoming book. In part, she does well with Twitter because of her penchant for oversharing, and for spitting invective at conservative bloggers and commentators. She’s not afraid to dish it out, but can she take it?
Apparently not. And that’s fine. No one is forcing Meghan McCain to endure the trials and tribulations of fame. Living in the media spotlight requires a thick skin. Hell, even writing a blog with open comments places you in the line of fire. Whether it’s your ideas or your body, when you put yourself out there for the world to see and hear, you’re going to get criticized. A lot. Plenty of it will seem unfair, and some of it will make you want to bring up your lunch or crawl back into bed. Right or wrong, good or bad, it’s the price we pay for participating in the marketplace of ideas. There’s no invisible rider on the First Amendment that promises to protect the thin-skinned from vile and demeaning criticism.
I’d love it if no woman had to suffer the stinging indignity of having her virtue called into question based on the size of her breasts or the way she dresses. Been there, done that, and it sucks. If a public figure like Keith Olbermann had something foul to say about Meghan McCain, I’d be dialing up MSNBC to complain. But there’s not much to be done about lonely strangers tweeting insults as they masturbate to the thought of Meghan McCain crying into her cleavage. She can ignore them or ridicule them, but they’ll always be there.
Meghan McCain has two choices: toughen up or drop out. Expecting the world to stop judging her is not an option.