So here's the thing. Remember how I said I didn't hate men? I stand by that. However, it's becoming increasingly more difficult to take them seriously. I'm sorry, guys. It's just that I know too many capable women to ever defer to you. It's just that I've seen too much of your soft, chewy center to let you fight my battles. It's just that I've witnessed too many tantrums to ever think you're less emotional. It's just that I've seen and smelled too much good pussy to think they require a makeover. It's just that I've seen how unaware you are of your own aesthetics, to allow your opinion of mine to hold any weight. It's just....so many things.
Here's what your wife won't tell you. Your biggest fears are true. We are laughing at you. Actually, strike that from the record. I AM LAUGHING AT YOU. But don't feel bad. It's just because you're so damn adorable. You're really cute. I see your muscles and your pretty eyelashes and yes, I saw you lick your lips. I just think that shit was corny. Yes, I saw you body check me, I just don't care. Yes, I hear everything you're saying about your business and why you're so impressive. I'm just unimpressed. I noticed that you interrupt my every sentence, but I'm not smiling because I'm polite. I'm smiling to buy myself time. I'm talking myself out of slapping the shit out of you. You're welcome.
You may find that you're offended right about now. Good. Welcome to the world. Listen, I care about you. I do. I want to hear your ambitions and your hopes and your dreams. But I give no shits about your dick, your daddy's dick or his dick before him. If you feel a burning desire to show me your trophies or gym selfies, rethink that shit. I wanna know what you read. But, If you feel inclined to explain Marvel character origin stories after I tell you I have a degree in Marvel character origin stories, rethink that shit. I wanna know what you listen to. But, if you feel the need to quiz me on Radiohead discography after I tell you they're my favorite band, say it with me class, RETHINK THAT SHIT.
Today I took an online training course on how to react to an active shooter. There were vivid reenactments and overwhelming statistics. It made me incredibly sad and intensely angry. I understand how hard the world is. But because my ass is fat and my skin is black and my sexuality is fluid, I don't know what you're going through. Really. What makes these men think the world owes them hugs and kisses and fucks and sucks? What makes them think it owes them anything? If you're feeling the urge to pretend like there's no correlation between men and shooters or to fix your mouth to say not all men or to research the last 100 years to come at me with a rebuttal, rethink your life and call your mama.
I won't get into the debates about mental health and gun control because water is wet and there's nothing new under the sun. I won't rail against politicians and greed because my head maintains a steady ache and my nails are already imprinted in my palms. But I will tell you that entitlement breeds darkness. It edges up the back of your neck and pulls at your compassion. It erases empathy and replaces it with ego. It turns feeling into facts and mutates love to obedience. It will tap you like a tree and hollow you out. So the next time you feel entitled to someone's time, attention, smiles or affection, please, rethink that shit.