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Posts Tagged ‘Shocking’

Hey Girls and Evolved Boys!

Are you trying to wrap your head around the Cornell 7 story? Or even surprised at some of the insane (almost always male) reactions to it? So surprised and disgusted that you can’t even formulate a response?

Auntie Beth is here to help.

What to say to the “not all men” crowd and/or rapist apologists:

Asinine comment
She knew what she was getting into by going to the frat house.
Response (dealer’s choice)
• There were a whole bunch of guys there too. Did they also sign up to be raped?
• Rapes happen in homes, hotels, dressing rooms, even behind dumpsters. Women can’t go anywhere then.
• She went to see a friend. With friends like that, no one needs enemies.

Dipshit remark
Come on. She wanted it.
Response
Do you have a vagina? I do. Let me tell you: No vagina wants seven hours of sex.

Idiot on social media
She told police everything was consensual.
Response
Maybe she did want to do ketamine and have sex with her friend. Maybe she even wanted a threesome. BUT consent stops when consciousness does. She probably was not aware of everything that transpired until she saw the screenshot of the group chat much later. Also, rape is fucking traumatic, you douchebag. Processing it takes time and different forms.

(Frankly, I don’t care if she walked into that house stark naked, high as a kite, and started dancing on a pole. That doesn’t mean she’s suddenly the house fuck toy.)

Helpful reminders here: 
1. This is what consent means.
2. If given the choice, would the victim market herself as “free pussy” to the fraternity?
3. 57 dudes saw that message.
4. All those dudes took one of two paths: They either went to get some, or they ignored it. No one took a third path — that of a normal human who finds rape disgusting — and either protected her on his own or called the cops.
5. One sent her screenshots later. Yay?
6. If a dude passed out in a sorority house, he would not find himself in a similar situation. It would be more like this.

Buffoon’s statement
It’s two years later. Why didn’t she come forward then? She must be lying.
Response
She fucking did. She went to campus police. (And if you read the statement, it’s clear she doesn’t remember everything that happened. 10 drinks in three hours plus ketamine plus pot will do that.) Cornell conducted a whole Title IX investigation (albeit starting three months after the incident). They found SOMETHING, or Chi Phi would not have been banned from campus. Ithaca police, fools that they are, relied on info from Cornell police, who withheld the group chat information. That’s one of the reasons they are reopening the case.

What an ass says
Calm down. At least the case is being reopened.
Response
Yeah, because of the outrage. It’s the Safety Valve Theory. But then everything will go back to the way it was, is and always will be. (Fuck the Patriarchy!)

What the rape defender says
These young men have a promising future. Their lives shouldn’t be destroyed by this! Innocent until proven guilty.
Response
If they are smart enough to have a promising future, they are smart enough not to jeopardize it by raping someone. And what about her future? Sure, innocent until proven guilty, but let’s not kid ourselves that the guilty are ever truly punished either.

Rules for women: 
Don’t go there.
Don’t wear that.
Don’t go alone.
Don’t drink.
Don’t make eye contact.
Don’t be polite.
Don’t be rude.
Don’t accept a ride.
Don’t stay out late.
Don’t go out too early.

Rules for men:
-0-

What if we only taught men one thing: Don’t rape.

Then women wouldn’t choose the bear.

And all the evolved men out there, you have a responsibility too. Hold other men accountable. Change the culture. If you aren’t part of the solution, you are part of the problem.

Don’t be one of the seven.
Don’t be one of the 50.
Don’t even be that one who sent a text LATER.

Be the one who stops it RIGHT THEN.

Better yet: Don’t ever let it start.

You know Auntie Beth talked to her own sons immediately to make sure she had talked to them enough when they were growing up that they would know what to do.

Every woman has been catcalled, groped, harassed, stalked, assaulted, or raped — sometimes all of the above. Ask any woman if you don’t believe Auntie Beth. (Ask Auntie Beth why she knows … )

“Not all men” but always a man. How are we supposed to know which men are safe? Remember: Jane Doe went to the Chi Phi house to see her friend. Who apparently raped her.

Parting thought:
Women’s bodies are their own. Men: You want to get off? Rosy is always free.

Best wishes and warmest regards,
Auntie Beth

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Hey y’all. It’s been a while, I know.

I’m not dead. Clearly.

I’m just … gobsmacked at what is happening here (i.e., this freakin’ country) on a daily basis. I can’t even believe it, and I don’t want to write about it. It’s like writing about it makes it more real.

So I’ll write about reality TV instead, my escapism go-to (as you know).

My favorite genre is what one might loosely term “love.” You know: “Love is Blind,” “Temptation Island,” “Too Hot to Handle,” etc.

Pretty twentysomethings cavorting in bikinis stirring up chaos thanks to hormones and underdeveloped frontal lobes.

It’s drama, but it’s not MY drama. And so I can turn off my own frontal lobe and enjoy the show.

Lately, I’ve been plowing through Season 8 of “Love Island USA.” I somehow managed to miss Seasons 3-7 (whaaaat?) and was very surprised to see this host, Ariana Madix, the Temu Catherine Zeta-Jones.

Who is this person? Where did she come from? Why was she chosen? I need someone with a strong personality like Nikki Glaser to be in charge of this thing. I don’t care that Shein Avril Lavigne is a great clothes hanger.

Am I wrong?

Anyway. This season has all the things I love:

  • A trainwreck (two in fact: Kenzie and Sincere)
  • A bromance (lovebirds Zach and Bryce)
  • Vapid, vain vessels (delulu horndogs Corbin and Parmida, Jen)
  • Deception (Sincere is … not)
  • Unexpected footage (Casa Amor entrances were SPICY — and live-streamed)
  • Hot goss (Bryce may need to work on his kissing style)
  • A true love story (Trinity and Bryce [apparently the above didn’t put her off])

I’m not done with this season yet, but I have enjoyed the heck out of every moment. Kenzie, especially, is good TV. Look at this girl:

Plus, she’s from Kennesaw, Georgia. Of course I’m going to root for her.

I’m having a hard time rooting for Sincere, though, as are the others in the Villa, judging by these reactions to his machinations captured on camera and shared during “movie night.”

Look at that. Priceless.

I’ve got my popcorn. It’s great!

You know whom I’m not thinking about while watching “Love Island?”

One of the best things I’ve noticed since the first two seasons is that the characters have evolved/matured.

  • The women strongly support each other in a healthy way.
  • The men do too, in a way I’ve never seen before. They are willing to hold each other accountable.
  • The men cuddle up with each other in bed to talk just like the women have done in every season.
  • They all apologize to each other regularly.
  • They are all self-reflective, and most of them genuinely seem to be there to find a connection (rather than to parlay their time into some kind of influencer career).
  • Most have “real” jobs: Kenzie just finished nursing school, Caleb fixes elevators, Gal runs a coffee shop. Yes, a couple are models, but they also do other things to pay the bills.

I also love the occasional “Aftersun” episodes with Tefi and Ciara. Those are two fun women who seem like they could be my friends.

Yes, I do watch “real” TV too: I’m watching the weekly episodes of “Silo” plus working through “The Four Seasons” and Season 4 of “The Sinner.” There’s only so much of Bill Pullman looking pinched I can take before I need to see a beautiful half-naked person do a “vibe check” with another.

If you want to pull me for a chat about this show or similar trash, drop a comment.

Until then, I’ll be camped out on the sofa enjoying young adult theater.

Love,
Beth

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Dear Former Colleague/Friend:

I say this with all the compassion I can muster:

You need help. Immediately.

I can understand being bitter about a past job experience. My last job wasn’t what I expected, so I got a new one.

I can understand not getting along with or respecting a boss. There’s one former boss I wouldn’t pee on if she were on fire. (Ok, that’s crude, and maybe I would.)

I can understand wishing you could force change to make the place better. It’s depressing to me to think about how great my last place could have been if only they had done some things differently.

What I cannot understand is basically trying to burn the whole place down with people you claim to like and care about inside it.

You know how many publicly pissy posts I have written about a former workplace, colleague or boss? One. And you can’t even tell which workplace or person.

Your vendetta against your former boss has to stop. You need to seek therapy.

It’s not healthy to write post after post about him and your experience.

Or contact our accreditors.

Or our board of trustees.

It’s not healthy for you, and it is actively harming us, the people who still work there. We have to do extra work because of you. You also are hurting our reputation, and that isn’t cool, Friend.

I think you think you are some kind of crusader — speaking for all employees who are all, in your mind, victims. You have a savior complex.

I will not minimize or negate your experience, but yours is not universal. I do not have the same view of my colleague that you do. People on my team have not had the same experience you have. People on HIS team disagree with your characterization.

I’m not going to address your wild email to the board that you have copied and pasted in its entirety where you detail every negative interaction you had with your boss.

You say that you knew that what you had written was “unhinged.”

Accurate.

(And then you complain you didn’t get a response. Would YOU respond to you?)

I’m going to address the other parts of your post that left me stupefied.

You said that executives (including me), “work exactly 8-5” then spend our evenings “drinking expensive wine with expensive people for ‘networking.’”

So when I’m at my desk at 7:30 p.m. trying to catch up on emails I didn’t get to during the day because of all the meetings, I’m actually NOT AT MY DESK but out drinking and networking and have been since 5? When I was at a first-generation student dinner until 8:30 p.m. last night, I should have demanded wine and told them they were fancy? That working all day last Saturday and every night last week was a figment of my imagination? And I guess taking my laptop to work on a big proposal while I was supposed to be on vacation didn’t actually happen. What the FUCK? As my former friend, you have personally witnessed some of the above. What’s wrong with you?

You characterize our board members as being people who “see the literal bottom line from a distance” — people “not in touch with the reality of the working-class … living with the decisions of out-of-touch boards.”

Um. Most of our board members are alumni who work full-time jobs. They also donate their time on several projects throughout the year, working closely with faculty and staff. They donate money to scholarships, faculty awards, staff awards, etc. They aren’t trust-fund babies jetting around with Daddy to China.

You assert that the board and the leadership team — of which I’m a part — operate from a playbook “comprised of ego, power, money and status.”

You have about two years of experience in higher education, and suddenly you are the expert? And this is genuinely what you think of me too?

Fuck. OFF.

I think this David vs. Goliath/The Poors vs. Richie Rich/Sad Little Underdog story sounded good to you, and you just went ham.

Too bad it’s not true.

“It was not the type of thing I ever advise anyone to send.”

Girl. Take your own damn advice.

And again, with the compassion I have left, I implore you to get help to MOVE ON.

Get a GD hobby, honey.

And though I have a modicum of compassion, I have no respect for you. Not now. Please don’t ever ask me for a reference.

Sincerely,
Beth

P.S. I did sleep on it before posting. Only changed a couple of words. Have no regrets. You still feeling good about yours? I hope your former boss sues you for defamation.

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Welcome, everyone, to the award ceremony for the first National Championships for the Mental Gymnastics!

(pause for applause)

The competition is complete, and we have our winners. Here are the following champions:

POMMEL HORSE: All the people killed, beaten, sprayed, pushed, detained, abused, etc., by the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement “officers” who have taken over Minneapolis, Minnesota. ICE has pommeled them repeatedly.* Congrats to these folks, mostly U.S. citizens! (So much winning! Are we great yet?)

STILL RINGS: Texas and Florida (tie). It takes immense strength and control to somehow avoid an ICE invasion when there are nearly 2 million and 1.2 million (respectively) undocumented residents, compared to Minnesota’s 130,000. How did they manage to come out on top? Their coach, Pam Bondi.

VAULT: ICE (and the DHS overlord Kristi Noem). They manage to vault right over the First, Second and Fourth amendments to the U.S. Constitution every day!

PARALLEL BARS: Kamala Harris. In a parallel universe — one without Elon Musk — she won the election and none of this is happening. Fun fact: Before the election, the right, with help from FOX News, said the Democrats would strip away the Second Amendment, jail us for what we say, drag us into more foreign wars, and cover up a sex trafficking ring, among other atrocities. Huh. Lookee here.

HORIZONTAL (HIGH) BAR: Joe Biden. He was crucified and had to drop out of the 2024 presidential race because he had a bad performance at a debate. Meanwhile, Trump sends the following letter to the Norwegian prime minister, and it’s just another Monday. Ho hum. Seems fine. Totally sane.

FLOOR EXERCISES: These were canceled as senators and representatives controlling Congress cannot be bothered to do the jobs outlined in the Constitution.

UNEVEN BARS: MAGA.

(Left) Kyle Rittenhouse meets with Donald Trump at Mar-a-Lago after acquittal. (Right) Alex Pretti documents ICE activity in Minneapolis Jan. 24 moments before he was killed, with the Trump administration claiming he was brandishing a gun.

BALANCE BEAM: No winners. Only losers. There is no balance, only hyperbole. For example, the rhetoric around immigration that led to the ICE buildup.

JD Vance claims there are 30 million undocumented immigrants in America. The number is closer to half. And they have been painted as rapists and murderers. According to extrapolated numbers out of Texas (the only place that really tracks), the number is 1.9 homicides per 100,000. There are more than 22,000 ICE agents. ICE killed 32 people in 2025. That’s about 1 per 688. I’d rather live next door to an illegal immigrant than an ICE agent.

Here are some facts:

Wake up, everyone! We are at the end of this glorious celebration of the Mental Gymnastics!

We will have a reception eventually in the new “luxurious” $400 million presidential ballroom — which is completely a necessity as we have managed to solve the all the American problems of affordable healthcare and housing, wage stagnation, inflation (2.7 percent), national debt ($38 trillion), national budget deficit ($1.78 trillion), etc.

CONGRATULATIONS!

*Side note: I can’t believe I have to say this but law enforcement officials are not allowed to execute “guilty” people either. We have a whole judicial system to determine guilt and punishment. Good and Pretti should be alive. For those of you saying, “FAFO,” I have a question and a comment. The question: Why are you defending these thugs? (Is it because if you admit they are wrong, you also are wrong for voting for this? Because you knew exactly what was going to happen. Or is it because you too were a high-school bully, and you love the violence?) The comment: Fuck all the way off with your inhumane self.

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Dear Fellow Thrashers**:

Y’all are the best. I joined the volleyball league to meet new people and have fun, and it’s working!

Last night was a little heartbreaking — good volleys but we couldn’t pull through in the clutch.

And right now I hear my other friends gasping in shock. Yes, believe it: I joined a volleyball league. (Waves hands in front of the faces of the passed out; shouts, “Give them some room!”)

Yeah, I know I’m not the sporty one in the family. I’m not particularly coordinated. I’m usually on the sidelines (unless flag football is involved, and then I’m a she devil [Right Chris and Linda?]).

But last night, two out of my three immediate family members came to watch me play. And I had the night of my life.

We still lost all three matches, but it was close, and I don’t care.

I turned as red as Will Ferrell as Lucifer.

I happily iced my arm.

Yes, that is an ice pack shaped like a cherry Life Saver. It fits perfectly on the painful spot on my wrist.

I wore the last bruise like a badge of honor.

Sexy, I know.

And I’m happy. So thanks. Love you all!

See you next week,
Beth

* Thank God for Thursdays

** AKA “Trashers” (We did not pick the name.)

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