Gasping Vaginas & Choking cocks – 2013 archive

Every now and then I will stumble upon a post from way back and share it all over again. This particular post has come in my conversations recently and I still feel the same way. Warning, apparently I use to swear a lot more than I do now.

Originally posted 2/19/2013

Gasping Vaginas & Choking Cocks 

Alright, I am about to piss off a bunch of vaginas and some penis right about now, in fact, I’m sure there will be gasping vaginas everywhere, but those who know me know I don’t really give a fuck and will understand where I am going with this.

Let me try to enlighten you:

I do not keep my bush or armpits hairy because I am trying to make some statement. I keep them hairy because I want to dye them pink and or purple and take perverted pictures with them.

That’s what I do.

Unfortunately, I really disappointed someone recently when they found out that this was not a profound show of support to other hairy vaginas or armpits out in the world.

The fact that I am a single mother, own my home, pay my bills, and happen to hold a position typically held by a male in an archaic “male dominated” industry, does not make me a poster child for the “sisters are doing it for themselves” movement. I would like to think that if I had been born with a penis I would still be working, and still be raising my son. There is NO gold medal here. In this moment, in this time, there is nothing special about me having a vagina and running the show at work and at home. Nothing whatsoever. Millions of vaginas do it every day. Leave my vagina out of my career thank you very much.

Recently I was on a date with someone who said he dated mainly feminists, which produced a huge sigh from me, because yeah I know where this is going, I tried to shut down the convo, but it was an underlying theme for at least an hour or so as we continued to be lost in the car. At one point he said to me “I shouldn’t take my date (him) into consideration when dressing, that I should only dress for me.” It was clear by the way he spat that out at me, that he felt that by doing so I was throwing all the vaginas back to 1800’s and I was a disgrace to my “gender.”

Is this what it has become?


I think we have a failure of communication here people. A breakdown.

Explain to me why on earth can I not dress with my date’s like/dislike in mind, I thought the point of equality was to have the same rights and freedom as everyone else. So if my choice is to please my date’s eye then by fucking golly shouldn’t I be able to? And by fucking golly does it make me less of a woman because I do? Fuck no.

I checked, my vagina and tits are still here.

All this has been bothering me for a few weeks now, but what really prompted the formulation of this post was another male friend of mine telling me he could never spank a girl because it was “wrong.” To which I replied, “How could it be wrong if she asked you to spank her.”

“I just can’t hit a woman” was the answer. SOO even if she asked for it, he couldn’t do it, denying them both the pleasure of that awesome experience.

Talk about being oppressed.

The truth is….. you can’t hit a HUMAN. Violence really shouldn’t be gender specific. I’ve never enjoyed that “never hit a woman” statement, it’s totally ridiculous. You shouldn’t hit anyone, period. Ever. Regardless of their appendages, or lack thereof. However, you should be able to hit anyone regardless of their appendages or lack thereof IF they are fucking trying to kill you. How the fuck gender got all mixed up in there is beyond me.

I spit on the separatism being invoked in the name of MY vagina.

It’s soo sad but I can guarentfuckintee you there are a ton of vaginas and cocks that would choke if they heard me say “I believe in a head of household structure and I tend to seek that in a male identified figure”

What I am saying is one of the many interpersonal relationships styles I enjoy having in my life is one where the leader is clearly defined and so far that leader tends to be born male men.

One boat, one Captain sort of thing. Think June and Ward. Lucy and Ricky. Edith and Archie – without the racism.

I don’t prefer this way of living because they have a cock, or think that having a cock makes anyone superior, or because I’m use to being oppressed due to my vagina. Trust me, no one is oppressing this bitch. I prefer it because that’s just the way I roll. I likey. It’s just me, a human, being. There are no connotations. I’m not making a statement. I’m just fuckin living the way I want, which if I am not mistaken is the whole point of fighting for equality.

So when those vaginas and cocks choke and assume or insist my preference for this way of style of relationship is based on appendages or gender or due to brainwashing from years of oppression, and then begin to dislike me for it, or speak to me as though I have betrayed some sort of vagina code or something, I have to laugh at the irony of their oppressive bullshit.

I am human, I can do whatever the fuck I want when I want. I can be an asshole or I can be an angel, I can be your worst nightmare or your best dream, but what I CAN NOT be is conformed to ideals or dogma that separates me from the rest of my brothers and sisters in this world.

I know there are sisters and brothers in other parts of the world who don’t even have the basic privileges we take for granted, and yes I know there are my brothers and sisters out there suffering oppression, and I help and contribute as much as I can in any way I can.

But for every woman out there suffering oppression based on her gender, there is a man out there being oppressed because of his sexual preference. Why are we distinguishing suffering? Is it not enough they are suffering, do we need to break it down into groups of suffering, picking and choosing who we help?

Really? Really?

I shake my head wondering how one even goes about doing that.

Sorry. No. Can. Do.

I wouldn’t know where to begin. I don’t feel an affinity for other women because we both have vaginas, I’m sorry I just don’t.

Don’t get me wrong I understand the need for the creation of feminist movement, and I am deeply grateful for the humans behind me for paving the way. I don’t think we have evolved enough to make it happen any other way as conflict is very much still a path to change for us, but I do believe we are starting to understand that separation of ourselves in distinct sections based on our so-called differences isn’t really “fixing” the problem, because the real problem is our lack of unity, and by continually perpetuating our distinctions we become further apart from each other which only compounds the problem.

We aren’t hitting the roots people, just the branches and creating SOOO many unnecessary branches along the way.

I don’t have answers, I just know that in my heart when I try to separate humans based on their gender, or color, or whatthefuckever it feels damn wrong, damn damn wrong. I won’t do it, and if that kicks me out of the vagina club then so be it.

I’m not much of a club person anyways unless of course a nice big strong man is beating me with one so he can drag me off to bed by my hair. 😀



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