Atheism 101
If this isn't a sales pitch, I don't know what is. Yup, biased generalization on my part, I'm sure, buy hey, anything that justifies me staying out of the kitchen is good for me.
Shadow, feel free to rant in the comments, if you wish. I impose no time limits there. That's right, I said prove me wrong...I dare ya.
So now maybe I should relabel this post:
Night of the Drunken Feminist Ranting
Cause I just spent the last ten minutes standing in front of my computer goin'
"You wanna go, bitch? Common, take the firsht shwing, I dare ya! I'll fuck you up, I will. Fucking computer, wanna piece of me? Common!"
Yet ain't got bitch slapped by the keyboard or mouse yet.
So instead, I'm gonna quote some shit I've been skimming, cause when drinkin' alone, it's a good idea to do it while perusing "Ladies Against Feminism."
Fuck ya.
When a woman appears in public wearing soiled or wrinkled clothing, looking stressed and harried, she is promoting the wrongheaded idea that staying home with children is bondage to be avoided. Is it better to appear so before our husbands? What message would we be telling him?
Yeah? What message are we sending out with that shit? Here's a hint: We're stressed and harried. Ever think of that? Didn't think so.
So let me get this straight: The physical appearance of a mother is there to promote the greatness of motherhood. You's a walking billboard there to convince the lost and confused (you know, career women, women who aren't ready, women who actually have some standards, hence haven't found the right partner, women who simply don't want kids....) that they're missing the boat. Get on it ladies! Procreate like mofo's!
Okay, so here's a catch, who the fuck is stupid enough to think, hey, check out that momma's shoes. Them there's some funky shoes. I gotta get me knocked up so's I can get me some shoes like that?
And do we want someone that fucking stupid to reproduce?
Fuck this, I need more beer. I may be back. Later. I may not. I might go masturbate, but that'd be recreation, not procreation, and we all know that I'd have to burn in hell for that shit.
Hey, does already having a kid get me a "Get into masturbation free" card? Or do I need to meet my quota of twenty offspring first?
Okay, one last go first:
Tonight, The Kid talked to her auntie about the colour pink:
Auntie: So, The Kid, you like pink? paraphrased for lack of funtioning memory.
The Kid: Yeah. I like pink, but that's not because I'm a girl. Some girls like pink, some girls don't. Some boys like pink, some boys don't. I like pink because I'm The Kid, not because I'm a girl. That's pretty close to verbatim. Fuck, I love my daughter.
Damn, just shattered my masturbationmotivation. Need more beer and smokes, less thought of child. I know! Let's link to some feminist-friendly porn with a moral!
Shadow, feel free to rant in the comments, if you wish. I impose no time limits there. That's right, I said prove me wrong...I dare ya.
So now maybe I should relabel this post:
Night of the Drunken Feminist Ranting
Cause I just spent the last ten minutes standing in front of my computer goin'
"You wanna go, bitch? Common, take the firsht shwing, I dare ya! I'll fuck you up, I will. Fucking computer, wanna piece of me? Common!"
Yet ain't got bitch slapped by the keyboard or mouse yet.
So instead, I'm gonna quote some shit I've been skimming, cause when drinkin' alone, it's a good idea to do it while perusing "Ladies Against Feminism."
Fuck ya.
When a woman appears in public wearing soiled or wrinkled clothing, looking stressed and harried, she is promoting the wrongheaded idea that staying home with children is bondage to be avoided. Is it better to appear so before our husbands? What message would we be telling him?
Yeah? What message are we sending out with that shit? Here's a hint: We're stressed and harried. Ever think of that? Didn't think so.
So let me get this straight: The physical appearance of a mother is there to promote the greatness of motherhood. You's a walking billboard there to convince the lost and confused (you know, career women, women who aren't ready, women who actually have some standards, hence haven't found the right partner, women who simply don't want kids....) that they're missing the boat. Get on it ladies! Procreate like mofo's!
Okay, so here's a catch, who the fuck is stupid enough to think, hey, check out that momma's shoes. Them there's some funky shoes. I gotta get me knocked up so's I can get me some shoes like that?
And do we want someone that fucking stupid to reproduce?
Fuck this, I need more beer. I may be back. Later. I may not. I might go masturbate, but that'd be recreation, not procreation, and we all know that I'd have to burn in hell for that shit.
Hey, does already having a kid get me a "Get into masturbation free" card? Or do I need to meet my quota of twenty offspring first?
Okay, one last go first:
Tonight, The Kid talked to her auntie about the colour pink:
Auntie: So, The Kid, you like pink? paraphrased for lack of funtioning memory.
The Kid: Yeah. I like pink, but that's not because I'm a girl. Some girls like pink, some girls don't. Some boys like pink, some boys don't. I like pink because I'm The Kid, not because I'm a girl. That's pretty close to verbatim. Fuck, I love my daughter.
Damn, just shattered my masturbationmotivation. Need more beer and smokes, less thought of child. I know! Let's link to some feminist-friendly porn with a moral!
posted by Impulsivecompulsive | 9:09 PM
5 Comments:
Dear Dear impulsive,
I think we had telepathic horniness. Yet, for some reason I can restrain from sharing my intense sexual craving with myself. Damn, when I finally do get laid, that boy won't know what hit him. Well, he will also be hit with a marriage certificate. So, it looks like I am never getting laid. When are we going to open up that shop, you know with the recycled dildos. I will use my education for something.
Okay, women looking primped and preen despite children under the age of 11 are saying, " I don't give a shit that my children wanted to go to the playground or make clay sculptures. It is more important that I look like an attractive lay, then help build neurons during my childrens development. That is what TV and computers are for. My role to produce maybe make meals and to be sexy. That is what counts. Rearing children does not require spending time nurturing their creative instincts and developing motor skills. Children are mere extensions of my perfect self, exsisting for purely aesthetic purposes. " Don't hug me!" I will yell at my children... I don't want you messing up my freshly ironed designer dress. I will then call my phillapino nanny in to apply affection to my children, while I collect freshly cut flowers from my local gourmet market."
That might explain why there are so many f'n idiots out there, despite all the money they grew up with.
THE MORE TIME SPENT ON YOURSELF = LESS TIME WITH CHILDREN.
Personally, if I am not spending time with my child I should be either a) drunk b) planning a revolution or c) earning a living.
not necessarily in that order.
Or d) masturbating. That is, after all, Impulsive's theme no. 203 of the night.
Course, there's a chance I could use less time a)drunk, due to the fact that I forgot to get out of the shower this morning. Just plain forgot. For an hour. Slipped my mind completely.
I turned myself off last night. How does one do that? I am not doin' it for me. What can I say, about my lack of creative apparition.
What we have here is a problem. Call me. Make an appointment, I'll tell my secratary find a way to fit you in. We need to talk. You need solutions.
I may not be an expert, but what I lack in quality, I've spent years making up for in quantity. So that's gotta count for something, right? Right.
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