A male blogger commenting on one of my posts trotted out the “girls are icky” approach to debating a woman:
I don’t think that’s ever been the response when I’m arguing with a guy…if you know what I mean.
Of course, he refused to elaborate on what exactly he meant.
Maybe for an encore he can take me to task for missing a dose of Midol. You know, if he’s not too busy enjoying some hot man-on-man debate action.
Following a lecture last week by Eve Ensler, author of The Vagina Monologues, a young man named Jason Rzepka shared his reaction:
“She’s an extremely remarkable person. The world needs more Eve Enslers,” he said, championing her global activism. “I found my inner vagina.“
Jason Rzepka, it’s time to turn in your man card.
I have no idea if Jason is straight, but pretending to discover his “inner vagina” sounds like one of the saddest attempts to get laid I’ve ever seen.
Mr. O’Keefe declined several interview requests, and Mr. Wetmore responded wordlessly to an e-mail message by sending photographs of Jayson Blair, a reporter for The New York Times who resigned after admitting to plagiarism and fabrication.
No wonder James O’Keefe considers Ben Wetmore a mentor.
He knows exactly which way the wind blows.
The result? Comedy gold as Jon Stewart rips Keith Olbermann to shreds over his bizarre rants against Scott Brown. Man, I love me some hot blue-on-blue action. Seriously, watch the whole thing.
|The Daily Show With Jon Stewart||Mon – Thurs 11p / 10c|
|Special Comment – Keith Olbermann’s Name-Calling|
h/t Lori Ziganto
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!
More than a year ago, I wrote an article about two cases involving librarians, library patron privacy, and the moral responsibility to protect children from pedophiles. The piece was originally published at Red Alerts, and recently appeared on Afrocity’s blog.
A few ardent defenders of the right to browse child porn in public showed up to comment. One by the name of “Chimp” feels that librarians have no business reporting suspected criminal activity when they witness it at work. Chimp’s basic argument, punctuated by ad hominem attacks, was that it is “factually wrong that ordinary citizens are obllgated [sic] to report a crime of any sort.” Chimp is apparently unable to distinguish between legal obligations and the topic of the article, moral obligations.
Now an angry Chimp has contacted me via the contact form on this site, writing:
what happened to the child porn library story from Lindsay?
Was the fact that you were starting to get intelligent comments on this and other blogs cause for taking it down?
Since I have little interest in giving Chimp at email@example.com my email address, I will respond in this space.
Chimp, in answer to your first question about what happened to the story, kindly put down the crack pipe and follow the links in the first paragraph. You’ll see that the article still exists, as do your comments. It has never appeared on JennQPublic.com in any form. If you’ve read and commented on the piece on two different sites, why do you need to see it here?
Regarding your contention that I removed the article from this and other blogs because I was “starting to get intelligent comments,” see the first answer. And just as an aside, I did receive many intelligent, thoughtful comments, but none of them were from you. If you review the comment sections on this site, you will see that I am happy to engage in civil debate with people whose viewpoints differ from mine, but I don’t have the time or inclination to suffer through your logical fallacies when they add nothing to the discourse.
Oh, and one more thing: eat a dick.