How To Be a Human: The Hetero Goggle Shuffle

So the other night, my girlfriend and I went to a party. At this party, we did normal party things. Chatting. Beer pong. Finding long-lost relatives. That sort of thing. We spent the second part of this party talking to these two dudes. They seemed relatively nice and smart and regular. Until they were LITERALLY being so SUPER WEIRD and PASSIVE AGGRESSIVELY HOMOPHOBIC at us for like AN HOUR. WTF. THE WORST.

So just in case you’re planning to interact with humans sometime in the future and you’re worried about how to not be totally WEIRD and AWKWARD and HOMOPHOBIC, lemme fill you in on something useful for your hetero lifestyle: don’t be WEIRD and AWKWARD and HOMOPHOBIC. You might think that you should be those things. But, actually, you shouldn’t. Not at anyone.

This party was full of people. But you kept talking to us, even after we told you we were together. Even after you made her clarify while I was in the bathroom that, yes, “together” means romantic monogamy with only each other. Yes, with each other, even though we are both femme ladies (MINDBOGGLING). Even after you stopped talking to our hetero-ly engaged friend. But you weren’t like, regular talking to us. You were doing the super weird combo of hitting-on and being-aggressive-at that I’ve unfortunately seen many times before. You were doing what I like to call the Hetero Goggle Shuffle. It didn’t matter what we said. She’s pretty and I don’t look like a man, so it didn’t fucking matter what words our mouths made. We were STILL TOTALLY POSSIBILITIES for HETEROSEXUAL SEX with YOU. Possibly not ideal options, but options nonetheless. But here’s the thing about that: Nope.

Here is the thing you should know. Here is the one thing. Okay, more than one thing. But here is the important thing: If you only want to talk to people who will have sex with you, then stop talking to us and go talk to a single (or poly or whatever) person who is expressing interest in having sex with you. In simple terms: if you only want get laid, stop talk to me. Use legs, walk other place. I don’t care if you do that. I am not offended. If all you want is sex, then go fucking find someone who wants to make sex with you. But that person is not me and it is certainly not my girlfriend. If you want to keep talking to me/us because we are cool and interesting and super awesome, then don’t be weird homophobic heteronormative asshats. Don’t hit on us, don’t be passive aggressive at us, don’t make awkward sex jokes where you pretend like you’re joking but you’re really demonstrating your uncomfortability with homostuff and making us feel super bad. Just don’t. If you want talk to us like human, TALK TO US LIKE HUMAN. Use brain, say regular words.

I just don’t get it. WHY ARE YOU STILL TALKING TO ME. I’m not going to have sex with you, and you’re being the worst. Honestly, I would almost rather that you said a homophobic slur, because then at least I could say “hey, bro, that’s extremely homophobic and you need to get some help to deal with whatever deep-seeded experiences with fear and anger have led you to this place in your life where you’re saying that stuff to strangers” and the whole room of allies would rise up and be allies. But instead, when you said to my gf “did you know what you’re doing is a sign of sexual frustration?” and then looked at me, if I’d been like “hey, bro, that’s a pretty fucked up comment because I’M RIGHT HERE, and I think you said that because of homophobia” then I’m the asshole committing a party-foul. Then all the allies would be like, “whoa, stop yelling about homophobia!” And I’d be like, “he started it!” And then everyone would be like, “…party-foul” and I would be the dick in this situation. But I wasn’t. In fact, it was my lack of dick in this situation that made it a situation at all.

Here is the moral of the story: take off your fucking Hetero Goggles. Take them off. Listen to my words, read my body language, and check your hetero privilege at the door. Just because your penis entered the room does not mean that all the single ladies and the femme ladies in committed monogamous relationships with other ladies (SAME THING, AMIRITE??) need to PUT THEIR HANDS UP. It doesn’t. And when someone tells you something about themselves, even something that contradicts the stereotypical box you’ve put them in, even if you can’t imagine that what they’ve said is true because you are so fucking alluring and how the fuck could that girl be with that other girl who also looks like she’s straight, LISTEN TO THEM and CHECK YOUR BEHAVIOR. Don’t do the shuffle and readjust your goggles until you forget what they’ve said and continue with Mission: Homoerasure. FUCKING LISTEN TO THEM and FUCKING CHECK YOUR BEHAVIOR.

Maybe try asking yourself this question: “Am I being WEIRD and AWKWARD and HOMOPHOBIC at this person?” If the answer is yes, use legs, walk away. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

The New Jim Crow

I just finished this book, and it totally CHANGED EVERYTHING. You should read it. It's called The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness by Michelle Alexander. As you might have guessed from the title, it's a real upper. Just in case you don't have enough time to read it all right now (hello, it's summer, why not??) I am going to use some pretty pictures of her amazing research and brainpower to TANTALIZE YOU into reading it. Immediately.

Below, according tot he 2010 US Census, is what the US looks like racially. I made all these graphs myself, so you should do a really good job of admiring them.

Pay attention to this part: black people and white people use drugs at the same amount--and Latino people, and others, but this book is really focused on black people and white people, and so shall I be in this sweet post. So say we all-- so black people and white people use and sell drugs the same amount, at the same rates. White teens maybe even do it more than black teens! That means the rates of drug use across race looks like this:

Ratios. I owe my math teachers an apology, although I'm not quite sure that this is what they had in mind for my sweet math skillz. But whatever.

Here is the thing. Black people and white people use and sell drugs the same amount, or maybe white people do it MORE. But let's give white people a break and say it's the same. But black people and white people do not go to prison at the same rates. Not even close. Super far. Not even in the same universe far. There is a bunch of data about how horrible this is (see the book for the Horrible Data.) But we don't even need to wait for the Horrible Data to know that it IS FUCKED UP. IT IS FUCKED UP. If white people and black people do something bad the same amount, and there are over 5 times more white people than black people in the country, then jails should be full of 5 times more white people than black people. But they ARE NOT. THEY ARE NOT.

In some states, 80-90% of drug offenders going to jail are black. There is no state that is 80-90% black. Not even close. According to the Human Rights Watch, black people are 10.1 times more likely to be arrested for a drug charge than white people. That looks like this:

THAT SUCKS. THAT IS TERRIBLE. WHAT THE FUCK.

Let's play FAQs:
Q: What the fuck is going on here?
A: Racism! It's not most people's fault, but it's the reason for all this horrible crap!

Q: How is this happening?
A: Police and judges and everyone have chosen to arrest black people from ghettos instead of white people in white places for using and selling drugs! And they are super into arresting people for drugs! They are doing it a million times more than they used to, even though people aren't using drugs a million times more than they used to!

Q: Are all police horribly racist? What about my dad/brother/aunt who is a nice police person?
A: Not on purpose they aren't! And some of them not at all! But they get billions of dollars in federal grants to arrest drug people, military equipment from the Pentagon, and they get to keep 80% of the cash, property, and stuff they seize on drug busts. They are all getting their funding cut, so arresting black drug offenders is a way to stay afloat! Also, the media says black people = bad, so we all sort of believe it, even though we shouldn't. Even police people and judges and such.

Q: Drugs are bad! Those people SHOULD be arrested!
A: That was not a question! But 80% of arrests in the 1990s were for WEED, and 4 out of 5 arrests are for possession, NOT SELLING. Have YOU ever possessed weed? I have. Obama has. Pretty much everybody has! So there!

Q: I'm smart, I read the book title. What does this have to do with Jim Crow?
A: Even once you're out of prison from your drug conviction, you have a lot of things that you can't do, like vote (most of the time), get food stamps or public housing, or even get a job most of the time (which is extra hard to deal with without food stamps and public housing!) That means you are basically FUCKED FOREVER. And since you are 10 times more likely to be black than white, that means black people are 10 times more likely to be FUCKED FOREVER than white people. This whole thing is a really complex and layered system that FUCKS OVER BLACK PEOPLE. LARGELY ON PURPOSE. That sounds like Jim Crow to me!

For a better and more thorough and much much much more awesome and horrifying analysis of all of this, please please please read the book. We all gotta. We all gotta fix this shit, but we can't until we really know how broken it is. Read it, people.

Mitt Romney: King of the Whiny Dickbags

So I recently got an email from Obama's campaign people containing their latest smear of Mitt Romney. They had a lot of great text and cited references about Romney's deviosity concerning his work at Bain Capital, his tax returns, blah blah, all the new exciting stuff that is coming out these days.

Then, they tried to be all cool and young and internet savvy and create an anti-Romney meme. It is this:

I think it's a great idea to have an anti-Romney meme - Romney is a total dicky douchebag and he deserves to be mercilessly mocked on the internet, don't get me wrong. But really, democrats? REALLY? This is the best snarky meme you could come up with? The name you're hoping to stick Mitt Romney with, out of all the snarky names you could have chosen, is "Tricky Mitt?" This, for the guy who can't possibly decide what he believes, but knows that he hates poor and brown people? This, for the guy with a car elevator in one of his bajillion houses? This, for the guy who wants to basically break the government and pays less in taxes than I do? This, an echo of Nixon, who Republicans LIKE? This?

Democrats, you are too nice. You rely too much on text, citations, and people using their brains for critical thinking. You are right to make a snarky internet meme, but you are being TOO NICE. Lucky for you, I do not have that problem. I was recently complimented on my "deadpan snark," and that was WITHOUT the use of internety visual aids. So, just because I love you, my sweet Democrats, HERE are some new Romney memes for you:

Just saying, that was like 10 minutes of work and not even that much of a stretch. Democrats with hiring powers, I'll be waiting for your call. Democrats working for Obama: STEP IT UP.

Also, COPYRIGHT. That's how that works, I think. Also, feel free to share because we all know that every single one of those is true.

Fleapocalypse 2012

A month or so ago, I noticed something that made me feel like disgusting 13 year old pimply piece of gross.

Then, a week or so later, Diamond Racecar noticed that she had a couple bunches of bug bites. Freaking mosquitoes, we thought. That sucks, but whatever. They'll go away soon.

Every day she found more and more bug bites. We thought maybe bugs just really like to eat her. We pretended like her bundles of bites and my weird thigh pimples were totally unrelated. We pretended like the cat was constantly itching and licking herself because she just liked the way she tastes.

But then, yesterday morning, I realized what it really was.

We had fleas. Not thigh pimples, not dancing mosquitoes. Fleas. Brought into our now-frustratingly giant house on the back of our, now that you mention it, very itchy cat. A billion little tiny icky jumpy hoppy bitey flea bugs. 

This is what our house really looks like:

But even though I hadn’t seen them, this is what I imagine our house looked like.

This is what the cat probably actually looked like.

But this is what I'm sure she looked like.

WE SPRUNG INTO ACTION. I spent a billion dollars on anti-flea supplies. We vacuumed, we sprayed, we did 12 loads of laundry. It was a flurry of disgusting and skin crawling activity. The worst thing we had to do was wash the cat. I bought a spray to use on her. The one thing I didn’t think of was how much the cat was not going to like being sprayed. Cats don’t like water. They don’t like spray bottles. And the really don’t like being sprayed with liquid from a spray-bottle while being forcibly held down on the front porch.

Once we finished, she ran away, looking more like a porcupine than she ever had before. She hated us. She would never trust us again. She skulked. She looked at us like we had murdered her babies. She climbed trees and hid under cars, just out of reach.
It took hours before she would even come back in the house. And when she did, she had her revenge on us.

Whatever. At least I didn’t actually have thigh pimples.

*if this post reminds you of Hyperbole and a Half, that means you're a smart person who reads Hyperbole and Half. If it doesn't remind you of Hyperbole and a Half, you should probably go check it out. Cause it's awesome*

Yoga

We all know what yoga studio websites say they are. This is what they might be.

[homepage]
Welcome to Twisty Painful!
Here at Twisty Painful, we believe in cultivating the yoga practitioner in all underemployed bendy young white American women. Our teachers are slightly hit or miss - some of them are great, but some will make you feel ashamed and awkwardly angular. We are not all that supportive of newcomers - no one will learn your name for months - but you can come anyway. We provide one parking space near our studio, but will shame you publicly if you don't bike to class. Our varied schedule follows the flow of human energy, so most of our classes occur at 10am and 3pm, which are the most convenient times for all people. Our regular sized studio has a floor and a ceiling, and smells a lot like old sweaty feet. We will chant together, and there will always be someone yelling like a yak right next to you. Come join our cliquish community by giving us your money, and we will help you practice putting your face near the part of the floor your feet were just on.

[Frequently Asked Questions]
Question: Do I have to be in shape to practice yoga?
Answer: Yes! Twisty Yoga is, by and large, for bendy, strong, tattooed, white people who are already good at it.

Question: Should I bring my own mat?
Answer: We have mats available to rent, but they cost $15 a class, which brings your per-class total up to about $50.

Question: I don't have a lot of money. Can I still practice yoga at Twisty Yoga?
Answer: No! Unlimited monthly passes are $365 each, and individual drop-ins are $25.

Question: I am not spiritual. Can I still practice yoga?
Answer: We hope so, cause we are! Even though we all have tattoos in Sanskrit!


Ed. note: I really like yoga. But this stuff is too easy.

Advice! This is Your Shot!

Need advice?

Got some sort of problem that only a snippy answer from someone you may or may not have ever met can solve?

Well aren't you in luck! Email your life problems to: all.them.internets@gmail.com, and if you're lucky, I'll post your woes for the whole internets to see.

No, but really. You should do it.

Sarcasm Font - And More!

So, everyone knows that life would be 482% if there were a sarcasm font (if this isn't already trademarked, then TRADEMARK.) People wouldn't be so confused anymore - guys would know that women are intentionally being funny (sometimes referred to as "making a joke") even if they don't laugh afterwards. Republicans would know that I don't actually want them in my vagina. We wouldn't have to use our faces to express ourselves anymore (that counts as exercise, and exercise is unAmerican). Sarcasm font = awesome - that's just common knowledge.

But today, Diamond Racecar got me thinking about other fonts. What if there were fonts for all kinds of human expression? Words would become irrelevant. Awkward conversations would be shortened, or even eliminated altogether. It might be awesome. Observe:

(Because these fonts haven't been invented yet, you're going to need to suspend your disbelief for a while. Words within the ** are the description of the font. Deal with it.)

Instead of this conversation:

DannysLuvr: Hey babe!

Danny386: oh hi
DannysLuvr: What's up? I love you!
Danny386: nothing...just chilling
DannysLuvr: Want to come over winkyface?
Danny386: um, i'm kinda busy.
DannysLuvr: Are you mad at me?  Did I do something wrong?
Danny386: dude, whatever. i'm going to play a video game or do some other stereotypical bro activity now.
DannysLuvr: Call me later?
Danny386: no.

You could just have this:

DannysLuvr: *IAmMadlyInLoveWithYou* Hey

Danny386: *YouAreStiflingMeAndI'mNotIntoYouAnymoreLet'sBreakUp* hey
DannysLuvr: *ExtremeSadnessAndEmotionallyManipulativeCrying* really?
Danny386: *StoicBroWhoIsDoneWithThis* yeah.
DannysLuvr: *IWasOnlyInItForTheSexAnyway* Okay.

Right? So much simpler. Or this one:

DannysLuvr: *IAmMadlyInLoveWithYou* Hey
Danny386: *IAmCheatingOnYou* hey
DannysLuvr: *It'sCoolIAmToo,ThisScreenNameIsn'tEvenAboutYou* Bye

There could be so many other useful ones! For examp:

-I like you and want to make out - is this something you are also interested in?
-I want to talk to you but I really have to poop right now
-Your boyfriend is a horrible asshole and I really think you should not marry him on Saturday
-I slept with your brother
-I'm fatter in real life than my online dating picture has lead you to believe, and now it has been an awkwardly long time for me to not have mentioned that to you
-I'm wanking right now
-I'm fluent in Klingon
-I want an open relationship
-The sex has been kind of boring lately, and I want to tell you about my extreme lamp fetish, but it hasn't come up organically in conversation and I don't want it to be awkward.
-I'm attracted to women
-I am wearing a cape
-I'm a Republican


Super useful. It would be like emoticons for sophisticated people!

How to Sell Bikes to Women

My roommate is a bike mechanic. She is also a lady. Apparently that is a big deal or something, which is surprising to me, since I thought that ladies could do things now[1].  Turns out, I was only medium correct – ladies can do some things now, but not too many things. And they need special treatment when doing things like buying bike-related products. This is something we need to LEARN ABOUT. FROM SEMINARS. WITH POWERPOINTS.

One such seminar on “HOW TO SELL BIKES TO WOMEN,” to be known simply as HTS-BTW forthwith, was the brainchild of a certain bike company that shall not be named (VOLDEMORT). I firmly believe the following facts from said REAL seminar are valid and essential enough to pass on to all of you:

--Women are referral machines. Finally someone is acknowledging the too-long unspoken truth that women are in fact not human beings! Once we accept this, we can really get over that whole sexism thing. Rather than continuing to treat women like people,[2] we should simply harness their machine-power for our own capitalistic good.

--Women like to shop, while men like to buy. Traits like these are carried in the X and Y chromosomes (SCIENCE!) and have nothing to do with our personal preferences, our childhood experiences with shopping (which are often influenced by our race and social class), our social conditioning, our financial situation, or the fact that many of us like to spend time deciding on expensive bike purchases.[3] Wow, SCIENCE!

--All women and men who enter a bike shop together are in a heterosexual romantic relationship and that is your business. You, the manly bike-shop worker,[4] should know about this, because boyfriends/husbands are domineering and girlfriends/wives are submissive. All of them! Never the other way around! Even though women make all the decisions (see below!) It’s sort of confusing! Try not to think about it too much! Be on alert!

--Every woman is in a heterosexual relationship with a man. She is going to make every decision in this relationship. This is true because of statistics! Women are the deciders for 51% of electronics! 60% of cars! 91% of vacations! What do those things have to do with bikes!?!

--Your shop is not a man cave! And don’t talk about the weather with your lady customers! This is a confusing one, ‘cause if you thought you were in a cave but now you’re NOT, the weather is a logical topic of conversation. But don’t do it, because that is WRONG. Ladies hate the weather. And caves.

--Women need time to think about things because it is hard for them to make up their little lady brains! It’s like, they can handle basic autonomic body functions and thinking about Ryan Gosling and Activia Yogurt^© at the same time, but when we throw something else in there, their lady brains short circuit. Then they can only think about buying expensive shoes until they can rest and reset in a comfortable place (the kitchen.) Amirite, ladies?

--You can (and should!) give a woman confidence! You, the manly bike-shop worker! Give her confidence! By doing all these things while selling her a bike! That is the only way she can get some…confidence! It won’t backfire even a little!

Wow, I don’t know about you, but by GOD I learned a lot from this presentation. Without it, I would have sold bikes to women IN THE COMPLETELY WRONG WAY. I would have done things like been friendly, listened, and treated them like valued and ungendered customers! I wouldn’t have known to infer about their sex lives or what color bike they might want (PINKWHITEBABYBLUE!!!!!!!) based on what I assumed was in their pants. HOW WRONG I WOULD HAVE BEEN. I would have been selling bikes, not selling bikes to women. That never would have worked.

Thank goodness we all know better now.

---

[1] Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. Dir. Adam Mckay. Perf Will Ferrel, Christina Applegate, Steve Carell. Dreamworks, 2004. Film.

[2] I saw Battlestar Galactica, I know what happens when machines are treated with respect and then take control. It’s not good. It doesn’t end well, unless Will Smith and/or Captain Adama is on hand save us.*

*Nerdy ed note: Captain Janeway and President Roslin are not included in this list, because they too, like all women, are machines.

[3] Other traits carried by the X and Y chromosomes include: One’s willingness to ask/not ask for directions; how to immediately find the most expensive item in a store (X); one’s affinity for facts/numbers (Y); one’s affinity for stories (X); how to be a breadwinner (you know which chromosome that one comes on); tears (X).

[4] Yes, HTS-BTW believes that every single bike-shop employee is a man. Aside from gender being fluid, and also dumb, this means they just gave away their man-secrets to my lady roommate and her lady co-workers!!!! Who will now tell all their lady-friends the manly bike-shop workers’ secrets (see: referral machines!!)

This post is all due to the fantastic editing, rewriting, and hilarious additions of Diamond Racecar!!!

Colorblindness

COLORBLINDNESS: It's Not as Useful As You Think.

Dear Lady Zip Zap: Orange Wedding

Here on the blog, I like to do a little of everything. Some social theory (see: Karaoke,) some of my hilarious witticism, and some advice for the common folk.

In lieu of actually knowing any common folk, I have selected a nice (?) lady from Dear Abby to heap my advice upon. You're welcome, Orangey Lady. You're welcome.

question via: http://www.uexpress.com/dearabby/

Dear Abby:

My fiancé, George Clooney [real names have been changed to encourage anonymity and absurdity] and I have been together for four years. He proposed this summer and our wedding is planned for next year. I thought planning our wedding would be fun, but it has turned out to be a nightmare. I want orange as our primary color, but now George Clooney is saying he “hates” the color orange, although he never mentioned it before. I tried to get him to agree to pair it with a color of his choice, but he refused. George Clooney is being unreasonable and will not agree with me on the color. Since it mainly affects the bridal party, I felt it should be my decision. He says it isn’t, and that he won’t even wear an orange tie or anything like it. What is your opinion?
--STUCK ON THE COLOR IN GEORGIA

Dear Orangey Lady:

Wow, remind me to wear my protective space suit around you, because when your crazy makes your head explode, I don’t want it to get on me and seep into my skin like some horrible contagious crazy bug juice.

Dear Abby suggested that you kindly compromise with your soon-to-be husband, but I’m going to put this a little more bluntly because I’ve gotten the impression you’re not super sensitive to subtlety: YOU ARE HAVING A CRAZY FIT RIGHT NOW. If you want to choose orange over George Clooney, than keep doing what you’re doing. If you’d like to actually have a long and happy marriage with George Clooney, then WAKE UP AND STOP BEING SUCH A TOOL.

I have illustrated several points for you to consider:

1. Orange ties are often ugly. Here is a picture of George Clooney looking sad and dumb with his orange tie on. It is a phallic orange tie, because I am not good at drawing and I like to throw a couple of bones to the Freudians out there (see what I did there?).

Poor George Clooney.

2. Here is a picture of you with the orange wedding of your dreams.  Note the space next to you under the Chupah/alter/marriage thinger.  Because you are alone. Because George Clooney is not coming to your wedding. Because your craziness impeded his ability to want to spend his life with you. So will not, in fact, have a wedding.

3. Here is a graphic representation of your choices:

I hope this helps, Orangey Lady. My advice: Put Your Crazy Away and Pick a Different Freaking Color.

Love,

Lady Zip Zap