Boy oh boy, that’s gonna pop up on someone’s search, and they’re gonna haaaaate reading this.

Oh well.

Alright, I realized I though I’d said something, when I actually didn’t so here goes:
For my allies and friends, yes, showing clips or pictures of black people dead by police hands might get someone you know to wake up and smell the racism, but for me, given how often it’s happened, it’s like sharing bits of snuff porn, like Faces of Black Death, except they’re all real.
“Here’s this large black woman slumped over on the ground, dead or dying due to police neglect”
“Here’s the body of that kid with the Skittles and Iced Tea”
“Watch this cop shoot this black man to death!”
What I’m asking for here is for people to keep in mind that for some of us, this is tiresome and (yup, gonna say it. Hold on to you hats) TRIGGERING. Gasp, I know, I used the terrible word that shows that I’m fragile snowflake that cannot handled Real Life.

You know, like I haven’t been bombarded with this photos for fucking YEARS already.  I’ve had enough Real Life.  I’ve had enough of our dead being used to “prove” that we’re being slain unfairly. Can you, just for a moment, try to empathize that maybe I…or we…have had enough Real Life, plxthanks.  Too many people, too many thoughts of brothers and mothers and fathers and grandparents and sisters pop in my own mind.  Too much Real Life will traumatize a motherfucker.  Like college students who have had Real Life thrown into their faces before they step one foot onto campus, lives of poverty, assault, rape, physical abuse, raising siblings, holding down jobs of their own.

Have some fucking empathy.

At the very least, put the article or picture in a comment. Find an article that has a picture of the victim alive, so we can see them as a person, and not a hunk of dead dark flesh to gawk at. 
Please?
Please? Please?

(And yes, I do make use of my “Hide Post” button. That’s not the fucking point.)

Kim, What is This?

Posted: January 15, 2016 in WAT
Tags:

Now, a lot of people are wagging tongues and fingers to talk about Obama’s last SOTU. Did they like it, did they hate it, here are the parts that are cool, here are parts that aren’t, look at Michelle’s dress, could Paul Ryan frown any harder, I want someone to look at me like Biden looks at Obama, and so on.

This post isn’t about any of that.  I leave it to others.

This post is about the saddest damn sight next to Paul Ryan’s struggle-frown that night.

And it’s this:

FrumpyKim

Who allowed this disaster to walk into that chamber? And no, I don’t mean her very presence, whatever, she got invited.

I mean, what the hell did she wear?  What is that?

Now look, I tend to keep my judgement about what people wear when I’m walking down the street.  Usually because I’m trying not to look at other people because of a mix of anxiety and misanthropy. Sure, I think sagging pants are silly and wearing heels in the winter is asking for broken ankles, but I keep it to myself.  Whatever people wanna wear outside, fine.  Whatever.

That goes straight out the fucking window when we’re talking about an event as big as the State of the Union address. Look to the left of this woman.  Lady in huge pearls and make up.  Look to the right.  Dude in military dress.  And in the middle, a women who managed to find a fuck during her 15 minutes of fame and then promptly lost that fuck while packing for this trip to D.C.

She couldn’t be bothered to at least put a dress, suit jacket, or suit, whatever floats her boat, on?  Come on lady, you’re a guest at the White House for the SOTU speech. Don’t you have SOMETHING nice, like a modest church outfit or something, you could have put on? Fuck, those sister-wives in prairie dresses look more put together than this. You don’t have to get made up or change your hair or whatever, just…wow…holy shit. What is this?

Look around you. Other people were dressed appropriately for the event.  Men in suits, women in dresses/pantsuits/whatever.  Michelle Obama was up on the balcony looking like a bag of money in a simple dress.  Ms. Davis, Mrs. Davis, can I call you Kim, I’m calling you Kim, you look like someone stuffed you into a bag of donations for the Salvation Army, dumped you out in D.C., and all you had to wear was whatever you could hang on to.

Kim, you make enough money. We all know that.  You didn’t have to grab something from Macy’s or Bloomingdale’s or some other fancy place (can you tell I’m poor? Those were the richest places I can think of).  Wal-Mart, KMart, Target will sell you a nice modest dress for nothing.  Fuck, I could walk into a thrift shop and pick out something more appropriate for this event blindfolded. What the hell?

Just what the hell?

CN: suicide attempt mention

 

I read a blog post attack the concept of “wanting attention is bad” and it made me think about when I was a kid.

Last year was the 20 year anniversary of my first suicide attempt. I was 14, miserable, didn’t see any escape from the life I had except for death.  I would lay in my bed and cry out of misery.

And no, I really didn’t have anyone at home to talk about it. Well, no one would actually help.

Two years after that event, my stepmother threw into my face that the doctor treating me during my mental hospital stay told my dad that I was “doing this for attention”.

(she also told me during that conversation that if I tried to kill myself, she’d help me take the pills.  I almost took her up on it, if I didn’t have plans of my own)

20160114_191759

“Stop typing and pet me more, you’ll feel better!”

Annnnyway, it took years for me to process that, and a few visits to a shrink to make me realize something about kids seeking attention.

So what?
I was a kid who thought death was preferable to living. As a KID. Even if I failed at it, how wasn’t that a cry for attention? I sure as fuck wasn’t getting it at home, hence the hard hit of depression, hence the attempt. Granted, I had been depressed for years prior, but it was two years building up of lacking the attention that would help me figure out my sense of self or security.
You’re damn right I wanted attention. And there was nothing wrong with that. Kids need attention, even when their ages start up in the double digits.  Preteens still need to know that they matter, that they are loved, that their needs are important too. They’re not tiny adults you can start shoving adult responsibilities onto and ignoring their needs.

And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be noticed.   This is very different from wanting to be in the center of everything. Why do we treat the former like the latter? We all desire to be noticed and acknowledged by our peers and families. Yes, even you Mr./Ms./Mx. “I don’t need society’s approval, I’m my own person”. A few days without acknowledgement of those around you, and you’d feel awful.  That’s why social media is a thing.  That’s why I’ve written so many words on this thing over like a year.

We’re kinda human like that.

So attention me, people! 🙂

 

I’m Tired.

Posted: January 8, 2016 in fuckery, race, rage
Tags: ,

…but I’m gonna try to make it through this post without passing out or having too many typos, because I needed something up here that was actually based on a true story and totally wasn’t me not checking my facts before coughing out a rant post.

Nope.  Not me.

Anyway, today in “White People”, Maine’s governor is a racist shitbag. He’s the sort of racist shitbag who tries to hide their racism under the blanket of “concern”.  As usual, like a puppy or a toddler trying to hide under said blanket, their ass is usually showing.

And they’re not nearly as cute as a toddler or a puppy.

So, this is the money quote:

“The traffickers — these aren’t people who take drugs. These are guys by the name D-Money, Smoothie, Shifty,” he said. “These type of guys that come from Connecticut and New York. They come up here, they sell their heroin, then they go back home.”

He continued: “Incidentally, half the time they impregnate a young, white girl before they leave. Which is the real sad thing, because then we have another issue that we have to deal with down the road.”

Wow, there’s so much to unpack, but since we all know (hopefully) how shitty this is, and I’ve got a headache, bad sleep, and a load of laundry to fold, let’s just make fun of the fucking thing, kay?

First, there’s this bit:

“The traffickers — these aren’t people who take drugs. These are guys by the name D-Money, Smoothie, Shifty,”

Whoa there, partner, I’m gonna have  to throw a flag on this play. “Foul, white person attempt to pull ‘urban’ terms out of ass”.  Penalty, five yards or a free throw or a free kick or something.  Look, I don’t do sports, okay?

D-Money.  Okay, makes vague sense.  Like he might have seen one of those 90s urban gangsta movies…back in the 90s.

“Smoothie”?  Say what? Is he mistaking a trafficker for what he had for breakfast?

“Shifty” Oh yeah, you know ol’ Shifty from down the block, right? Everyone gets their stuff from ol’ Shifty.

Now, seriously, dude. This is sounding like YOU took heroin, watched Snow White, and coughed up the worst version you could think of.  What is this, D-Money and the Seven Drug Traffickers? You got Smoothie, there’s Shifty, who’s next? Drugee, Layzie, Krayzie, Bizzy, Easy-E, and their homeboy/source, Dopey?

 

Dopey

You know he’s hiding some kilos in those baggy ass clothes.

Pro-tip: Just leave the examples to the professionals, okay? You’d sound like ridiculous that way.

Next part!

“These type of guys that come from Connecticut and New York. They come up here, they sell their heroin, then they go back home.”

Now I’ll admit I’m talking out of my ass here, because last time I checked, heroin is fucking everywhere. At least he had the brain to mention one state where it could well likely ‘come from’, good ol’ dogwhistle New York.  But come on, dude.  I’ve been to Maine.  Met some lovely people. Ate a bunch of lobster.  Rode on a boat. Sure, the only thing darker than me was the beer I was drinking, but lovely people.

And even I know the two things Maine is known for are A) Delicious lobster and B) WEED.  If you’re gonna try to sniff out drugs in your state, sir, the bong smoke is coming from inside the house.  How about you work on that first, hmm?

But oh and lo! the piece of resistance, or whatever. It’s supposed to be French, and I said I was tired, folks.  Chronic nightmares.  Chronic. Nightmares. Splitting headache. Feeling like death.

He continued: “Incidentally, half the time they impregnate a young, white girl before they leave. Which is the real sad thing, because then we have another issue that we have to deal with down the road.”

Now, if he wasn’t talking about race, as I’m sure someone’s right wing relative or that one ‘friend’ you just can’t let go will insist up to this point, why bother mentioning race here.

Also, seriously?  I know I’ve said that already, but damnit, it’s the name of the blog.  Not only are these oddly named drug traffickers bring heroin to the fine state of Maine, but they’re leaving behind knocked up young white women! Gasp! Le horror!

So pretty much, it’s Trump’s “Them damn Mexicans are drug dealers and rapists” rant narrowed down and aimed at another minority.  Great job, man. Will you be running for president next cycle? Because you’re already leaps and bounds ready for the Republican xenophobia ticket.

Okay, meds and bed and shit.  The laundry can wait another hour or two, right?

Have a good weekend.  Don’t get sick. Also, lobster.  Delicious, delicious lobster.

Y’all, it was fresh off the boat.  Like Low Country Boils of my childhood memories, except with lobster.

Mmmmm…

Hey, y’all.  I had a fever this weekend that got up to 102F. Fun! Now for the point of this post:

I don’t have words to describe how I’m feeling about this current fuckery up on Oregon. Not for the hypocrisy of the media treating these assholes not as the terrorists they are, not for the assholes on social media twisting the very definition of “terrorist” to not include this so-called militia of piss pants regressives who just don’t want to pay taxes, but want to use federal land that’s marked so they don’t use it all up raising their damned cattle. Not for the hypocrisy of these piss pants whiners defending two poaching arsonists who COULD HAVE FUCKING KILLED SOMEONE with their attempt to hide their poaching attempt. And certainly not for the hypocrisy of these assholes to show pictures of the uprisings in Ferguson and Baltimore, like white people have never overturned a car or raided a store ever.  I guess pumpkins and sports teams matter more than black lives.

Burning Venezula

When they’re not using pictures from Venezuela and calling it Baltimore. 

This gent, Julian Long, took all the words, made them beautiful, and then gratefully shared them with the world.

We keep being shown that violent, outrageous protests lead to decidedly delicate treatment from the authorities. We keep being shown that armed might is and must be respected – that secret wars and personal vendettas and organized forces with weapons and agendas get the benefit of being treated like humans while people with placards and megaphones are taken down like dogs. And we keep being told that this is how the system works. We keep being told to trust the system. Follow the system. Be aligned to the system.
So what comes next? What happens when this cloud finally bursts?
Explain that to me.
Please.

And I’m glad, because that means I don’t have to repeat anything.

I Got Nothing, Y’all

Posted: December 28, 2015 in race
Tags: ,

No Charges for Cleveland Police Officers in Shooting Death of 12-Year-Old Tamir Rice.

 

I got nothing but tears and rage right now.  This boy was executed and lied about.  His murders not only walk free, but with badges and jobs intact. Tamir’s mother and sister will have that wound, that loss, for the rest of their lives.

All because our children, our black children, are never treated like children.  A 12-year-old with a toy gun becomes a dangerous armed suspect in the eyes of our racist police system.  And that system becomes judge, jury and executioner in a matter of seconds.  SECONDS.

Look at this child.  LOOK AT HIM.

Tamir Rice

 

I don’t care if he was tall, I don’t care if the gun didn’t have some sort of “I’m not real” indicator.  I don’t care.  THIS IS A CHILD. And now he is dead, and will have no real justice for his murder.

We have failed him.  As a country, we have failed Tamir.

I’m sorry, kid.  I’m so sorry.

 

 

Feminace Helps!

Posted: December 23, 2015 in fuckery, race, WAT
Tags: , ,

So apparently it’s a thing to arrest or make life shit for people who film cops doing (or failing to do, or outright fucking up) their jobs.

I thought we were all on board with the whole “Filming cops on duty is legal” thing?  I thought this has been a thing for, like, forever? Did anyone inform the cops? Did anyone inform the NYPD?

Here, let me help.

We should get signs, and put them on every locker, on every door in every bathroom stall, above every urinal in cop station, and pasted on the dashboard of every cop car.  And that sign should say:

CopRules

I’m just trying to help spread the word.

*Nelson laugh*

Posted: December 17, 2015 in fuckery, no love me

Seriously, fuck this guy and his over-producted hair and constant smirk.

Nope, I’ve got nothing else. It’s Pen Name writing time.

Peaceful Savages

Posted: December 11, 2015 in race
Tags: , ,

As I’ve said a lot among friends, if black people were as violent as white people think we were, this entire shit would have been burned to the ground long before I was even born.

But we’re not, no matter how many dogs get sicced on us or hoses are sprayed at us, or tear gas canisters are thrown at us, rubber bullets shot, fully armed to the teeth cops being intimidating, we don’t bite back.

(sure, there have been riots, but never in direct response to being threatened, and aren’t the focus of this post)

We have been insulted to our faces, told our hair isn’t acceptable, our skin too dark. White supremacists burn crosses, ride confederate flag festooned trucks past our children’s birthday parties, walk in our neighborhoods openly carrying their guns, mock our dead, and very rarely do these people get popped in the fucking mouth.

And it’s not just black folks. Due to the recent attacks in Beirut and Paris, people are tripping over themselves to see who can be the biggest Islamaphobic douchenozzle.

Then act surprised when white people start fucking with anyone in a hijab or on a prayer mat. Mosques and Muslim owned businesses have been vandalized and anyone wearing a scarf on their head is a potential target for verbal or physical abuse by complete strangers.

And through it all, there is no retaliation.

I could go on with examples; pro-choicers NOT going after pro-lifers in the wake of violence, queer people NOT going after straights after a bashing, and so on and so forth. You wanna know why?

Think about what that would look like. Especially in the media, who looks for just about any excuse to demonize the opressed. Already keyed up bigots, who who only need little reason, no matter if true or not, wanna act out so badly.

I’m gonna quickly point out here the desperation of white racists to start a Race War by taunting black people in so many ways, waiting for us to respond in kind, so they can go “see, these niggers ARE violent and dangerous”, and justify killing us. It’s quite literally the “I’m not touching you” game that ends up in someone getting hit.

And deep down, we all know that. So we refrain. We act with peace. We may make a fuss, but we don’t go eye for an eye.

We can’t go eye for an eye.

And you need to understand what a further burden that is. To be taunted and abused and knowing damn well you can’t respond in kind. You have to be the bigger person while bigots get to act all kind of ways.

That is some hard shit. We need our allies to know that. So the next time you want to say something like “Well, if that was me, I would…”, stop and think.

And then shut the fuck up.

Um, What?

Posted: December 2, 2015 in feminism, fuckery, Repro Justice, skeptic
Tags: , ,

I need a little silliness to make me not feel like my country is falling apart in a hail of angry white guy bullets.

Thankfully, I’ve been provided the perfect opportunity to laugh.  Someone read my previous post, and they didn’t like what I had to say.

Or maybe it was how I said it?

Lookie here:

12310492_10153336132833037_813180982905110894_n

Now, I’m surprised to see any pro-life anything reblogging my stuff.  I’m still a literal nobody compared to much more prolific and well-written writers out there (I’m mostly a ranter anyway).  But what’s really tickling my funny bone is I don’t even get what this person is trying to say.

Points on using “deathscort”, that always makes me giggle.  It’s such a cute little term they made up to make us seem a lot more dangerous than we really are.  What did I say in that last post, we’re handmaidens of Satan leading the innocent into Hell?  “Deathscort” kinda sums that all up in one simple, silly, nonsense word that sounds like a great name for a metal band.

Oh and the warning for “graphic content”? Priceless.  I see graphic pictures of fetal body parts every single time I get on the sidewalk, and this person warns for me saying “fuck”?  How precious.  Sorry that you live in a world where no-no words aren’t allowed, but I live in reality, and shit is fucked up when it comes to everything pro-life.

As for “what proabort deathscorts think”, I’m failing to see the problem. We support the right to have an abortion.  Duh.  Abortion is a thing that has always been.  Duh.  Pro-lifers publicly condone violent actions while secretly praising them?  Mega Duh.

So where’s the problem? Also, this is what I think.  And I’m only one escort.

It’s also super funny that this FB group has fewer likes than my friend’s cat’s Twitter account.  Hell, the comments on my own FB page has more likes than this group.  Not that it matters, of course, but it’s still really funny to point out.

So yeah, point and laugh.  Maybe it will help us all feel just a little less shitty about the world.