Showing posts with label Advice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Advice. Show all posts

Thursday, July 18, 2013

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.

Saturday, June 2, 2012

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.

Saturday, May 26, 2012

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 fiancĂ©, 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