Showing posts with label Misogyny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Misogyny. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 31, 2024

Love Is Blue

VERSE 1

Love is blue and so are your balls

You blew up her phone with late night calls

Pistol in your pocket, gun is in your jock

Boots on your feet, kick down doors with locks

“Where is she hiding? Who is she riding?”

That’s what you say, repeat it throughout the day

“Close your pretty eyes, I’ll give you a kiss”

It’s a kiss goodbye, because you never ever miss

 

VERSE 2

Love is blue and your ballcap is red

A true American until the day you’re dead

That day will come soon if you’re not careful

You push against progress, it’s at your own peril

Spit the word thug until your face is like your hat

Rosy red cheeks, it’s as simple as that

Try not to pop a vessel in your one brain cell

You think Jesus is waiting, but you’re down in hell

 

VERSE 3

Love is blue and your pills are black

Sell yourself to chicks like you’re money in the sack

They don’t swipe right, but you vote in that direction

Because the word no has deflated your erection

Which yoga studio do you want to shoot up?

They’re all easy pickings, shooting fish in a cup

The world will know your name and never forget it

Until the admins crack down on 4Chan and Reddit

 

VERSE 4

Love is blue and it’s no other color

You’re held in her arms like a baby with a mother

She strokes your hair in this moment you share

But it’s all a male fantasy, you’re so unaware

Women don’t owe you a goddamn thing

You’re lower than concrete, you think you’re the king

It didn’t have to be this way one iota

But you’ve got a colder heart than snow in Minnesota

Thursday, May 9, 2024

Written By a Man

VERSE 1

I got no experience, so I got no soul

Not enough broken bones, not enough bullet holes

Not enough time spent behind steel bars

Not enough time trapped in subway cars

So I do my very best to pass the Bechdel Test

But my only point of reference is The Man Show and Wrestle Fest

I got a pile of mistakes higher than a bird’s nest

Learn my lessons from some, set fire to the rest

 

CHORUS

Manic chick from a magical land

Written by a man

Did I write it with one hand?

Written by a man

Manic chick from a magical land

Written by a man

Did I write it with one hand?

Written by a man

 

VERSE 2

I got no girl who could be my whole world

But it ain’t her job to launch me to the top

I got to pull myself out of this water slide pipeline

I got to be more than just a cishet white guy

I got to find out what the fuck is going on

Why the fuck is my maturity taking so long?

They call me late bloomer, ‘cause it couldn’t happen sooner

Got some gray in my hair, now they call me a gooner

 

CHORUS

Manic chick from a magical land

Written by a man

Did I write it with one hand?

Written by a man

Manic chick from a magical land

Written by a man

Did I write it with one hand?

Written by a man

 

VERSE 3

I got no baggage I can actually unpack

So I’m stuck in murder mode, ready to attack

It’s easy to blame the one who screams the most

Especially when she’s dead and floating like a ghost

I’ll get my shit together if it takes me forever

I don’t have to be an angel, I just have to be better

A lifelong process, because learning never ends

When you got no ego, you got nothing to defend

 

BRIDGE

Damn right this book was written by a man

Started as a fan who believed that I can

You’re not competition, I hope we all win

The new world is here, let the story begin

Tuesday, March 2, 2021

Manliest of Mansplainers

Alexis Harper power-walked down the hallway towards the interrogation room, pants suit on, dreadlocked hair up, and a mean face that could turn any alpha male to stone like the eyes of Medusa. She paid no mind to the other officers giving her funny looks like she didn’t belong in this game. Manliest of mansplainers. That’s all they are, she thought. She looked both ways to make sure the coast was clear and entered the interrogation room, where Ryland Hamm sat on the opposite end of the table looking like testosterone on a stick.


Mr. Hamm had a smug look complementing his square jaw, slicked back blond hair to give off that alt-right vibe, and a red flannel shirt that he probably wrestled a lumberjack for if Alexis didn’t know any better. Despite being grossly outmatched in the size department, Alexis never lost her angry swagger and slowly took a seat across from her suspect, as if to draw out any anxiety Ryland might have had. She gave the potential anxiety an adrenaline boost when she laid her gun on the table and turned the safety off.


Alexis took several deep breaths through her nose to bring some more angry tension into this already prison-like room, white walls and barred window be damned. But the anxiety she hoped Ryland was having didn’t exist at all as shown by his equally cold and callous face. Breaking him down was going to be a chore, for sure. But it was a chore worth doing in her mind.


Her speech was slow and deliberate as she dressed down her suspect. “Listen to me, you little bitch…if at any point in this interrogation you try to reach across the table to hit me or grope me…I’m going to empty my gun all over your fucking face. You won’t be warned…You won’t get a chance to explain yourself…You won’t even get a chance to apologize…You touch me…you die…I know you don’t have a great deal of respect for women, so I thought I’d put that out to the universe beforehand…”


Ryland folded his arms. “Where I’m from, respect is earned.”


Alexis gave a sadistic smile. “I got bad news for you: we’re a LONG ways away from where you’re from. This ain’t jabip, my friend. This…this is my dungeon…and you are going to be my bitch today…” Ryland almost reached across the table, but thought better of it. “Good boy.


“Now…let me see if I’ve got this right…You left the bar at 10:30 last night…And that was when you shot the victim in the face…She’ll be buried in due time…but the thing is…we don’t even know this woman’s name…I don’t think you do either…All we know about her…is that you tried to give her a quote-unquote compliment…and it didn’t go as well as you wanted…What was that compliment, Ryland?”


“I want a lawyer.”


“Yeah…and you know what I want? I want Jamie Fraser from Outlander shackled naked to my bed…with a dildo in his mouth…and an electrified diaper on his crotch…Wait a minute…hold on a second…Did I just make a man feel worthless?” She poked her own chin in mock contemplation. “I could have sworn that I turned a three-dimensional human being…into nothing more than a sex object…It’s almost like…I did the exact same thing you did to that woman…”


Ryland shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “You feminazis are all the same. Can’t even take a compliment, so you Me Too our asses out of existence. I told her she looked sexy in those running shorts and you know what she said back? She said…’If you want to get laid so badly, there’s a perfectly good middle school down the road. They’re more your type.’ She slanders the shit out of me and it’s ME who’s in this room? How is that fair?”


“The reason you’re in this room, Ryland, is because you shot her in the face shortly afterwards. That’s why we have no idea who she is: her most unique features…were blown right off her body…”


“I did not shoot her, you slanderous bitch!”


“Then why did we find her…lying on the ground…with no face…and no brains…and not much of a skull left either? Why…did this woman have to die over a clever comeback? She didn’t owe you a damn thing, Ryland…No woman…owes you a damn thing…”


Ryland’s tone grew more intense the longer this interrogation drew out. “That’s what women are for, you dumb bitch. They have vaginas for a reason. What good is a vagina if you’re not going to use it?! Why don’t you crack open a bible every once and a while instead of reading SJW comic books where Wonder Woman has a pecker and Superman has a pussy.”


“Hmm…” Alexis leaned back in her chair and continued to touch her face like she actually gave a shit about Ryland’s incel rhetoric. “That sounds like a good idea…I used to have a bible around the house…But then…my husband had a really disgusting meal at Taco Bell…and…there was no toilet paper in the bathroom…and…long story short…we don’t have a bible anymore…”


Ryland raised his trembling fist like he was going to strike Alexis, but then she reached for her gun and said, “Ah-ah-ah! I don’t think so, buddy...Don’t even try it…Don’t…fucking…test me!”


There was a knock at the door and a couple of uniformed police officers entered despite not having confirmation from Alexis to come in. She didn’t even look them in the eye. She just gave the jittering Ryland an arrogant smirk like she achieved what she set out to do. “He’s all yours, boys…Ryland Hamm…is our murderer. You’re welcome…”


One of the officers shook his head. “Lady? You don’t even work here.”


“WHAT?!” screamed Ryland. He clutched his own face with both hands and squeezed in anger. His breathing was labored and deep, his muscles vibrated, and his eyes bulged. “All this time, I’ve been interrogated by this feminazi and you guys did nothing to stop her?! She wouldn’t even let me have a lawyer!”


“Mr. Hamm, there’s no need to shout,” said one of the officers while raising his hand defensively.


“It’s a free country! I’ll shout if I damn well want to! I’m a real American and I say that shit proudly!”


“Of course you’re a proud American!” Alexis retorted. “Everybody knows that! You’re white…you’re a man…and you’re a republican, no doubt…Those three things alone would have ensured you a short stay in a county jail…as opposed to a lifetime in prison for murdering a woman who didn’t want to fuck you…tell me I’m wrong, boys. Go ahead. Tell me this privileged white male republican would have spent the rest of his life in prison. Go on…lie to me…”


No response from the cops.


“You all should be thanking me instead of chastising me,” said Alexis. “I’m like those undocumented immigrants you fear so much…I’m doing the job…that nobody else wants to do!”


Ryland had enough. He reached across the table like he wanted to clobber Alexis and she shot him in the head for it. The exploding brains and skull wasn’t nearly as impressive as what he did to the unknown woman in running shorts, but she laughed nonetheless as officers restrained and cuffed her.


“You all saw that, didn’t you?” chuckled Alexis. “He tried to hit me, so I killed him in self-defense. I bet he would have used the self-defense excuse to keep his ass out of prison because his fragile little ego was broken. Then again…he wouldn’t have gone to prison anyways…”


The cops hauled her out of the interrogation room and down the hall. “You’re under arrest for impersonating an officer.”


“What about murder?” she asked. “Are you going to add murder to my rap sheet or are you basically admitting defeat on that one?”


“You have the right to remain silent. I suggest you take advantage of that.”


“Kind of like how Ryland took advantage of that woman, right? You’re still going to give her a proper burial, aren’t you?”


“SHUT…THE FUCK…UP!”


Alexis grinned as she was being taken to a holding cell. “Yep, you’re definitely not impersonating an officer now. Y’all are the real deal.”

Sunday, December 6, 2020

Macho Man

 VERSE 1

Every day is leg day, make the ladies beg day

Mix some manly sperm with their eggs day

My pistols are big, but not as big as my dick

Give the ladies something to suck on and lick

I drive my hummer with a loud fucking motor

I leave behind a nice trail of gasoline odors

I’m a macho man! Don’t believe me? I’ll tell you

Toxic masculinity is what I’m trying to sell you


CHORUS

Macho man! Macho man!

The manliest of mansplainers!

Macho man! Macho man!

Fitness and beef are my college majors!


VERSE 2

How can I put this into words you’ll understand?

You’re a womanly woman and I’m a manly man

I talk down to you because that’s what kings do

Even other peasants will tell you that it’s true


CHORUS

Macho man! Macho man!

The manliest of mansplainers!

Macho man! Macho man!

Fitness and beef are my college majors!


VERSE 3

Fire my bazooka in a first person shooter game

Because real life wars by comparison are tame

I scream my B-words and a shit-load of C-words

Until my macho manliness melts the ladies’ beavers

Teabag my victims whether they ask for it or not

Balls in their faces while their corpses burn and rot

You could question my sexuality forever and a day

But I’ll flip the script and call your faggy ass gay


CHORUS

Macho man! Macho man!

The manliest of mansplainers!

Macho man! Macho man!

Fitness and beef are my college majors!


FINAL VERSE

Why are all my friends walking away from me?

Because I called them words that start with a B?

Maybe I’m just a coward fighting off low T

Lacking empathy for others, too blind to see

It’s on the tip of my tongue, I can’t figure it out

Has it always been my fault? Is that what it’s about?

It would take some ballsy courage to admit my mistakes

And admit my macho manliness has always been fake

Tuesday, September 17, 2019

Edge Lords


VERSE 1
While my hands are soaking in Ivory liquid
You’re still choking your teenage chicken
While laughing with some rightwing trolls
About Nazi violence so bloody and cold
Ovens and lynchings are hilarious to you
Keep on flashing that disgusting salute
You do it all for the sake of being edgy
While lives are at stake and always ending

CHORUS
Edge lords! They’re coming in hordes!
Edge lords! They draw their swords!
Edge lords! They started this flame war!
Edge lords! I hate what they stand for!

VERSE 2
We’ve all been kids at some point or another
But not all of us have beaten each other
Not all of us have gone marching in the streets
Homemade flamethrowers bringing the heat
Not all of us have spewed vitriol and lies
To the point where another wanted to die
You’re not edgy and cool, you fucking fool
You’re just another easily-controlled tool

CHORUS
Edge lords! They’re coming in hordes!
Edge lords! They draw their swords!
Edge lords! They started this flame war!
Edge lords! I hate what they stand for!

VERSE 3
None of us are perfect, our sins aren’t worth it
Some of us take the past and fucking burn it
Some of us would rather lead good lives
Than make misogynist jokes to our wives
We’d rather give hugs and not ass kickings
That’s how we diffuse bombs that are ticking
We’d rather create a future we can live in
Heil all you want, but we’ll never give in

EXTENDED CHORUS
Edge lords! They’re coming in hordes!
Edge lords! They draw their swords!
Edge lords! They started this flame war!
Edge lords! I hate what they stand for!
Edge lords! Time to cut the cords!
Edge lords! Short circuit their ports!
Edge lords! Go hide in the sewers!
Edge lords! You fucking losers!

Wednesday, August 15, 2018

Incelbordination, Chapter 10


Oswald floated through the sunlit air as a familiar feminine voice whispered to him. “Come closer, my love. Come closer.” The little guy half-closed his eyes in anticipation of the seduction. The closer he floated towards this voice, the brighter the sunlight became. Whoever was sending these vibes had the radiance of an angel. And then Oswald could see a pair of plump red lips calling for him and making kissing noises to further tempt him. He puckered his own marijuana-scented lips and prepared for the love-making session he desperately desired.

And then the little guy opened his eyes and saw those red lips were hiding a serpentine tongue and elongated fangs dripping with poison. Oswald’s heart thumped in his chest and his eyes widened upon learning this face belonged to Antero Magnus, whose cyan eyes rolled so far back in his head that redness became horrifyingly apparent. “Give me a kiss, lover boy!” slithered Antero before taking a massive bite out of his former protégé’s skull. Oswald’s brains oozed out of the bite marks while his skull cracked in half, rendering him lifeless in an instant.

“Oswald, wake up!” shouted a more genuine female voice and the dwarf snapped awake while inhaling a raspy breath. Sitting up in his bed and soaked to the bone with sweat, he noticed he was back in his dorm room just like Nikita Johnson promised. Low and behold, there she was standing over his exhausted body with wetness in her eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she said. “You looked like you were having a nightmare.”

The little person wiped the blurriness out of his eyes and said, “I did have a nightmare. A bunch of virgins in masks came and beat the shit out of everyone at school. Wait a minute. That was just a nightmare, right?”

“I’m afraid not, Oswald. Our college really was attacked. It’s all over the media. I was watching GNN on my phone.” The dwarf tried to crawl out of bed, but Nikita placed a hand in front of him to keep him from doing so. “Don’t, Oswald. You’re hurt. Just lay there for a few more minutes.”

Oswald face-palmed and whispered, “Goddamn you, Antero.”

“What did you just say?”

“Um…I, uh…oh, no…”

Nikita folded her arms and asked, “How do you know who Antero Magnus is?”

“How do YOU know him?”

Nikita sighed and sat down on the bed next to her rescuer’s feet. She rubbed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger before finally satisfying Oswald’s curiosity. “He’s in one of my classes. I’m double majoring in English and political science and apparently he’s majoring in political science too. Every single time he’d share one of his papers with the class…he…” She wiped a tear from her eye. “He just sounded so entitled. He felt like the world owed him sex. He was incredibly sexist on so many levels. I don’t think he’d even be happy if he found a relationship. He’d just continue the cycle of hatred. And the worst part about this is….my professor is too scared to challenge him because he thinks Antero will snap.”

“That definitely sounds like something he’d do,” said Oswald absentmindedly before backpedaling with a series of “um’s” and “uh’s”.

“Are you hiding something from me? How do you know Antero? Please be honest.” No answer. Just a nervous stare from the little guy. “Oswald, if you know something about Antero, you need to tell me. You heard those masked guys yelling things like Love Is Black and muttering shit about Chads and Stacys. If Antero really is behind all of that, you need to tell the police. That’s information they need.” Still no answer. “Oswald, what’s going on?!”

The dwarf sighed and plopped his head back on the pillow. “Antero tried to get me to join his group. He calls it Incelbordination or some shit like that.”

“You didn’t actually join them, did you?” asked Nikita with a shaky voice. “Oswald, if I find out you’re mixed up in this sexist crap, I’m going to…”

“I turned them down!” A long beat of uncomfortable silence hung between them. “I saw what those people are capable of. I’ve been to one of their chat rooms. The shit they talked about…it was disgusting. They joked about murdering and raping women. Although, it turned out not to be much of a joke, did it.”

“You need to go to the police and tell them everything you know.”

“…I’m sorry, Nikita, I can’t.”

“Why not?” Another beat of silence built a wall between them until Nikita’s eyes widened at something that appeared to be in Oswald’s coat, which he still wore in bed. She reached inside despite the dwarf swatting at her hands and pulled out several ready rolls. “Oh my god…this is why? You’re afraid the police are going to find these?”

Holding up his hands defensively, Oswald explained, “Look, I have a prescription for those, okay? I’ve got a severe case of depression and pot is the only thing that’s working.”

“Are you sure it’s working?” asked Nikita rhetorically. “Because I’ve heard your love stories in Valerie’s class. I’ve heard your poetry. Whatever’s wrong with you, these rolls aren’t doing the trick.”

“Sometimes they take a while to kick in!” snapped Oswald. “Then again, sometimes there isn’t a cure for what’s going on in real life!”

“If you’re not going to report Antero to the police, then I will. I’ll even put in a good word for you with the cops!”

“You can’t do that, Nikita! You can’t force your straightedge crap on the whole fucking world! It doesn’t work like that! I need that marijuana just to get me through the day unscathed! It’s not my fault everybody else wants to be a prick and fuck up my therapy!”

Nikita’s face transformed from desperate tears to passionate anger at the “straightedge crap” talking point. “Just so you know, I do have a dog in this fight when it comes to drugs and alcohol. My dad smoked all the weed he could find and on top of that drank every bottle of booze within a ten mile fucking radius. He did all of this when I was just a little girl. He’d come home from work smelling like he’d just bathed in raw sewage. And then late at night he went for a drive…” She wiped a way another tear and sniffled. “He never came home. Crashed into the river and drowned. I blame him for everything, but I blame the drugs he took even more.”

Oswald sighed and face-palmed once again. “I’m sorry for your loss, Nikita. Trust me, I know how that feels.”

“Then why are you smoking this shit to begin with?!” screamed Nikita, causing her target to pull the covers halfway over his face. “If you know how it feels, then why are you repeating this garbage?! This stuff isn’t curing you. It’s making you into a monster. You want proof? You’re worried that the cops are going to find this on you when you throw Antero under the bus. Well…I don’t have to worry about that because I’m not stupid enough to repeat the same mistakes over and over again.”

“Nikita…please give those back to me.”

“Not a chance, Oswald. I’m not going to let you fuck over this entire school after what they went through!”

“Why, you little!” grunted the dwarf as he attempted to roll out of bed and onto his feet. Because of his injuries, all he could do was plop on his ass and pull a muscle in his lower back. He screamed and coughed while pounding the floor with his fist, ignoring the fact that there used to be glass in his knuckles.

“I’m sorry, Oswald…but you did this to yourself!” said Nikita before turning around and marching away.

“No, wait! Don’t go! You can’t turn me in for this! They’ll put me in prison forever! I don’t’ deserve that shit!” The sound of Nikita slamming the front door behind her prompted Oswald to scream even more curse words while pounding the floor with both fists this time as well as his heels. He didn’t get much offense into the floor due to his agonized lower back, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

Just like Nikita before him, Oswald found an excuse to shed tears, but his own sobbing was loud and obnoxious enough to awaken his couch potato roommate, who screamed, “Hey! Shut up in there!” Except Oswald didn’t shut up. He cursed and pounded the ground some more until he was ready for another trip to the subconscious theater.

“Don’t do this to me, Nikita,” he whispered as he was falling asleep again. “Please…don’t…do…this…”

Friday, May 22, 2015

Lawrence Moody

NAME: Lawrence Moody
AGE: 43
OCCUPATION: Romance Author
CANON: It’s Just a Story


Whenever a celebrity is accused of bigotry, it can be a traumatizing experience for that person, especially if he or she is innocent of those charges. Does anybody remember a former UFC bantamweight fighter named Miguel Torres? He was once fired from the company for tweeting a rape joke.

The backlash against him was brutal and maybe he deserved some of that. But in order to ease himself of the trauma, he donated his time and money to rape shelters in Chicago and took sensitivity classes. He was subsequently rehired by the UFC. Dana White could be quoted as saying, “Everybody fucks up. It’s what you do afterwards that makes you who you are.”

And thus we have a segue into Lawrence Moody, a romance author who gears his books toward piggish male fantasies and responds to his critics not by apologizing or taking sensitivity classes, but by physically assaulting them or arranging to have them beaten by police or security detail. The most disgusting part about this? Most of his critics are women and Lawrence is much bigger than all of them.

It didn’t help matters that Lawrence was dating a Filipino model named Venice Reyes and used her sexy photographs as part of the covers to his novels. If anybody needed to be convinced of Lawrence’s “innocence”, it was Venice. The couple got into many arguments over the subject of sexism, mostly while trying to get away from angry female protesters who threw eggs with stinging impact.

Lawrence could do his damnedest to try and convince Venice that he was just a normal guy and not a bigot, but when she actually read his recent novel, she found out what exactly it was he was promoting: wife swapping. Their final argument ended when Lawrence accidentally shoved Venice down the stairs of their home and crushed her skull. The story concluded with Mr. Moody turning himself in to the police.

The fact that I didn’t get any backlash from writing this 12-page story was a stroke of luck. After all, Lawrence was portrayed as the hero and the feminist protesters and critics were the evil antagonists. Originally, I wrote this story to prove the point that zeal, no matter what form it comes in, is no good for anybody. But instead it read like a chauvinist manifesto that I’m now ashamed of.

While it didn’t happen for this story, I have been accused of bigotry before whether it was against women, children, or just plain guys from the deep south. Suffering that wave of verbal assaults was traumatizing for me. Sometimes I would respond by screaming in my critics’ faces and it would bring about even more backlash than before. When I actually apologized for my actions and told the truth of not being bigoted, things calmed down and were much happier for me.

Over the years, I’ve learned being diplomatic is better than being violent. Hatred breeds more hatred while love breeds more love. During the times I was accused of bigotry, I wasn’t aware that I was being prejudiced in the first place. I actually thought those things were normal. Thanks to a broader worldview and a lot of experience, I know how to cool down the fires I start, intentional or not.

If I ever do use Lawrence Moody again, it won’t be in a heroic fashion. He will be portrayed as an example of what NOT to do if you’re an artist of any kind. He will be aggressive. He will be unsympathetic. He will be everything my audience hates in a villain. When he is conquered by his own boiling cauldron of hot rage, he will deserve every minute of his suffering.

He may take the form of a sexist romance author. He may be a politician. He may even be part of the top one-percent of the top one-percent, in which case, he better be ready for Mr. Robot to serve his ass on a platter. No matter what role he takes, Lawrence Moody will never speak for my misguided past ever again.

 

***CELEBRITY QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“If a man wants you for your breasts, thighs, and legs, send him to KFC. You’re a lady, not a cheap value meal.”

-Nicholas Cage-