Ooh, I'll play along!

Sometimes I feel so good, it feels strange to be grouchy. Today was so beautiful; the sun was glorious, the earth smelled fresh, the seeds on my windowsill are sprouting, work flew by and I had a song on my lips all day. (Well, a Marylin Manson song. Still counts.)

But grouchiness is its own reward and also one of the major themes of this blog, so I present my answers to Twisty Faster's Snarky Little Survey. (It's long and repetitive so there's some skipping.)

On special occasions, or when he’s seeking your approval, does your boyfriend or husband dance provocatively in lacy satin lingerie and a pair of Christian Louboutin pumps, the price of which would shock you?
No. Then again, neither do I, for chrissakes. But sometimes I dance filthily in sexy clothes just for the fun of it, and so do a lot of guys I like.

In school, were most of the assigned books written by poor women of color?
Most? I spose we should've had more (although frankly some of the high-school writing by disenfranchised authors didn't have much else to recommend it as literature and was clearly thrown in for that reason alone), but most doesn't even make sense.

When you go deer hunting, does your boyfriend or husband visit the spa for an herbal wrap, a facial, and a pedi?
No, but for shit's sake, neither does the reverse happen. I'm not Carrie Fucking Bradshaw, and you know what? Neither are most women. I don't understand why this feminist blog is assuming that most women are shallow enough--or privileged enough--to actually do this stereotypical nonsense.

Is your boyfriend, husband, or father afraid to walk alone at night?
Unarmed? In this neighborhood? Yeah.

Would your boyfriend or husband continue to raise your kids and keep house for you if you stopped putting out?
Yeah, it's called marriage.

[joke removed for being beneath even me, but too funny to actually remove]

After the presidential inauguration, when your boyfriend, husband, or father had a light lunch with the girls, did the subject of Michelle Obama’s outfit come up?
Jesus, Twisty, where did you get your fucking image of women from? The last time I had a light lunch with the girls, we were talking about hiking, guns, Medicaid, and heavy metal. We're people, yanno, Twisty.

Does your boyfriend, husband, or father take steps to eliminate his “feminine odor”?
No, that would be silly. But they do have to take some serious steps about that masculine odor.

Does your boyfriend, husband, or father ever try to appease you by tilting his head and giggling?
Come on, Twist, do you seriously fucking think women do this? Have you ever met a woman?

Is your boyfriend, husband, or father expected to wear makeup and heels to work?
Hangon, lemme unzip my hi-viz bomber jacket and kick off my steel-toes and I'll answer this.

Does your boyfriend, husband, or father carry a can of pepper spray in his purse?
Nah, just a Glock 19.

When your boyfriend or husband buys a cute new bag, is he crestfallen when you fail to notice?
Hmm, maybe she doesn't think we're all Carrie Bradshaw, maybe Twisty just thinks all women except her (and some "short-sighted privileged exceptions assuming the whole world is like them," amiright?) are fourteen fucking years old.

Are you OK with it if your boyfriend or husband gains a little weight, because curvy men turn you on?
Yep. :)

Does your boyfriend, husband, or father clean the toilets with harsh chemicals?
Oh noes, not "harsh chemicals"! After the Femynist Revylution, rose water and happy thoughts will be sufficient to remove caked-on bacteria-covered grime!

Is your boyfriend, husband, or father a primary school teacher, a nanny, a maid, or a stay-at-home mom because he finds it so gratifying to make personal sacrifices for others that he doesn’t mind the low or non-existent pay?
Yeah, fuck teachers and caregivers, freakin' suckers don't know what's good for 'em.

Do you send your boyfriend, husband, or father email forwards describing rape avoidance techniques?
Well, sometimes, if they're funny.

Does lipstick scientifically formulated with ginkgo biloba, licorice, and tea tree oil give your boyfriend’s or husband’s lips a fuller, plumper, more kissable look?
Yes. I have pictures.



The main point of this doofy-ass "survey" seems to be that women (because of the Patriarchy!) are all silly little hens that flutter about preening and clucking. That's very feminist.