Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Stupidity’

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

Read Full Post »

Dear Music Fans,

I’ve been on a roll lately — getting out of the house and saying yes to live music. I have thoughts about performances and venues, because of course I do.

And you’re here, because I guess you want to read them.

Acts: The Breeders with Team Dresch
Venue: Pioneer Courthouse Square
Highlight: “Cannonball” by The Breeders

I’m an OG fan of The Pixies. Kim Deal was the key ingredient for their early success. Black Francis needs her, even though his ego thinks he doesn’t. When she started The Breeders, I knew there was room in my heart for both bands.

But like The Pixies, The Breeders can be hit or miss. For every “Cannonball,” there’s a “Hag.” (For every “Wave of Mutilation,” there’s a “Hey.”)

As for the venue, I was concerned about an outdoor space in downtown Portland at the end of summer. I was worried for nothing. It was the perfect temp and size. There were places to stand and places to sit (on steps, until some jackass spilled his entire beer). The acoustics were top-notch. Ravens flew overhead. The stars were out.

The people watching was spectacular. Young and old turned out. I did not realize this, but The Breeders fan base skews lesbian — a fact Team Dresch, also out and proud, noted repeatedly.

They were great, by the way. Never heard of them, but they are from Washington and have been around a while apparently.

The Breeders put on a fun show and had plenty of energy. Kim sounded fantastic, and we all got out of there at 9:30 p.m. on a school night.

Team Dresch: B+
The Breeders: A-

Acts: Squeeze with Adam Ant and Haircut 100
Venue: Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall
Highlight: “Goodbye Girl” by Squeeze

I know what you are going to say: “You said you’d never see Adam Ant again.”

I know.

But he was sandwiched between a band I had seen before and loved (Squeeze) and one I hadn’t and wanted to (Haircut 100).

I figured I could go get a drink if it was that bad.

It wasn’t so bad that I had to escape to the lobby, but it wasn’t great. Adam was more ambulatory than the last time, but his voice was … um … not where one might want it to be for paying customers. And he’s still wearing the same stupid outfit he’s been wearing for seven years — down to Aunt Maude’s best Sunday church hat.

Please stop.

On the other end of the spectrum, Haircut 100 had plenty of energy and put on a great show. Squeeze did too. Difford and Tilbrook have still got it. They sounded the same, and played all the hits.

They also played “Trixies,” a concept album they wrote in 1974 when concept albums were de rigueur.

They played this album right in the middle of their set.

You know how a mattress sags in the middle in a cheap motel?

Yeah.

Everyone just sat down — which is frankly what I thought the middle-aged audience would be doing the whole time anyway. I mean, Arlene is a bougie old gal. We all had plush assigned seats.

After the shock wore off, boredom set in. I might have taken a nap. My concert-mate Jason got antsy and warm (Arlene had a hot flash) and roamed off.

Finally, they pulled up the Trixies sign and kicked back off with “Hourglass.” Everyone got back up and started dancing again as if the last 40 minutes had never happened.

Jason and I never want to hear about loose women at Trixies again.

Haircut 100: B+
Adam Ant: D
Squeeze: A- (without Trixies); C (with Trixies factored in)

Acts: Rob Zombie with Orgy, The Hu and Marilyn Manson
Venue: Cascades Amphitheater
Highlight: “This is Mongol” by The Hu

Sometimes you have to say “Yes” to adventures. Jason and I were last-minute tagalongs on Gerard and Jesse’s date to see this lineup. Marilyn Manson is a trash person, but I was interested in the rest.

As it turns out, the singer for Orgy might be trash too — so much so that sources say they got kicked off the tour before the prior show.

Lawn seats at the amphitheater were reasonable, but we nearly needed to take out personal loans for the rest. Want a beer? That’s $25. A Rob Zombie tank top? $50. A burger, fries and soft drink? Also $50.

I would have paid more to see The Hu, though. They are REMARKABLE. I don’t even have the words to describe their sound or energy. They use a horse head electric fiddle played upright, for God’s sake!

Next was Manson. The music is good, not gonna lie. I hate that I like it. But I wasn’t there for him … and his dead swan.

In addition to pissing off birds everywhere, he angered the crowd by screaming “Portland” after every song. The amphitheater is in Ridgefield, Washington.

I also wasn’t there for his nightmare-inducing bassist.

Liza Minnelli Manson and whatever that is

I killed time by discussing the Clancy case via text with Dominic and also convincing him to start listening to The Hu immediately.

Rob was next, but there was a significant set change. There also was a significant temperature drop. Though I had been mocked by someone I will not name for bringing a jacket, I was glad to have it.

Rob started off strong with “F.T.W. 84” and “Tarantula.” The set was indeed elaborate. He was very funny, but said something alarming: Rob said there were 17,000 people in attendance.

Um.

That meant 17,000 people leaving at the same time if we all stayed to the end.

Spoiler: We did not hear “Dragula” live.

We skedaddled during “Feel So Numb.” To be honest, he sounded out of breath. He is 61 after all.

At least we weren’t from running to the car to beat the rush. And we made it back to actual Portland in no time.

Orgy: 0
The Hu: A+
Marilyn Manson: B (for sound); F (for the person delivering it)
Rob Zombie: B (partial credit)

What’s next? What’s left of the Sex Pistols in Denver. I’m sure I’ll have opinions (because of course I do.)

Love and kisses,
Beth

Read Full Post »

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

Read Full Post »

Dear Andrea,

Most guests who visit my condo in Atlanta make very little impression on me. I remember maybe one out of 10. If I remember them, it’s usually for a not-so-great reason.

I’ll remember you.

Why?

Because you made my eyes roll so hard I saw my own brain.

Here’s your review:

I’m going to address each item as objectively as possible.

  1. Built in 1962 by the C.D. Spangler Construction Company, Peachtree Towers was the tallest residential building in Atlanta when it opened and was the first residential building in the center of the city. It’s not new construction. If you want a new building with that new building smell, go somewhere else.
  2. It is a condo building with 330 units, so yes, I guess it will feel like a hotel. 🤷🏻‍♀️
  3. You can’t have a “bargain place” and also luxury linens and pillows. Pick an experience, Andrea. You are paying half the price of a hotel.
  4. There is less than a foot of space between the back of the chair in the living room and the wall/edge of the window. Why are you trying to walk back there? There is NO REASON for that!
  5. The only dresser in the flat is in the bedroom and does not have “tons of little drawers.” So I asked:

No, Andrea. Just no. First, it’s sad and shocking that you’ve never seen a card catalog before. Second, I’m not going to get rid of it for more suitcase storage (what?!). Third, there is AMPLE room on either side of it (five feet at least) for your damn suitcases.

Also, Andrea, please do a better job in the future of picking places that are suited to your needs.

If you want a new building, choose one.

If you want a luxury experience, choose it.

If you want a child-friendly place with pack ‘n’ plays and other baby amenities, choose one. Don’t ask a host to supply them when the host has clearly stated these items are not provided.

(During that exchange, I even said, “I understand if you need to cancel.” Frankly, I wish you had.)

I hope you made it home safely.

I’d say it was a pleasure to host you, but …

At least I got a good story out of it. So thanks.

Best wishes and warmest regards,
Beth

Read Full Post »

Dear Organizers of the Georgia State Banana Pudding Festival:

As soon as I found out about this festival and realized it coincided with the day my son Dominic and I planned to drive from Atlanta to Savannah, I knew it was on the agenda.

I’ve been to many festivals and fairs. I have expectations. I can manage those expectations depending on the scope of the venture. Claxton Rattlesnake Roundup? It’s an annual, small-town, lookie-loo event. No expectations. McMinnville UFO Festival? Bigger event with a parade and a weekend of planned speakers. Higher expectations.

The banana pudding festival appears to be an annual state event with enough social media presence to get on the radar of someone in Oregon.

I had expectations.

I did not expect to wait 20 minutes on a two-lane road to be directed into a field to park — one of three, all off this same two-lane road.

I did not expect to wait another 30 minutes in line to pay a $10 entry fee. (Who charges an entry fee at a festival like this?!)

I did not expect to wait another hour in line to pay $10 to sample banana pudding along the “Puddin’ Path.”

This is the line for the Puddin’ Path.
Dominic is so happy to finally be able to eat some pudding.

What — and I mean this sincerely — the fuck?!

One hour and $10 to sample eight versions of banana pudding, two of which were inedible? [One was “sourdough” (What? No. Stop.), and one was pecan praline (so sweet that I immediately contracted diabetes).]

And that’s it. Those eight samples equaled the only banana pudding available at the Georgia State Banana Pudding Festival.

You are deeply unserious festival planners. Clearly.

So what did our entry fee get us?

A vendors fair with all manner of offerings, including “sassy sewing.”
A variety of wood creations and whatnot for sale.
A few people with festival spirit.
Hate crimes in merch form.
An obstacle course driven by a blindfolded tractor driver.
The ability to take this photo.

Not pictured: the 30-minute line for two porta-potties. Yes: TWO.

Also not pictured: The person running for Secretary of State who talked to us about his immigration stance, assuming we had the same political beliefs. Sir, I’m not your target audience, for a variety of reasons.

You know what WAS worth it: Spending this time with Dominic grousing about how lame your festival was. We are two of a kind and ended up having a great time.

So thanks. I guess.
Beth

Read Full Post »

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.

Read Full Post »

Hey all you cool cats and kittens!

I like to try to make people laugh. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I am Chandler. I like to pretend everything is OK.

Everything is not OK.

  • There’s so much uncertainty.
  • I don’t like staying at home.
  • I burned the gyoza I took so much time to make because I was preoccupied by being sad.
  • I’m rarely sad, so that was a surprise.
  • There’s a woman at work who hates me, and I don’t know why.
  • We don’t have any toilet paper. (I’m kidding. Old habits die hard.)

I miss working out. There: I said it. I know you’re shocked.

I miss all of you.

I miss normal life.

I took going out to see live music for granted. Going to restaurants. To festivals. To the beach. Seeing friends and family whenever I wanted.

I have so much to be thankful for:

  • I have a job.
  • I have a job I like.
  • I like my boss.
  • Eddie is a funny person.
  • He has a job.
  • The kids are great. Really!
  • None of us has the ‘Rona.
  • I have fantastic friends and family with whom I can chat via Zoom, Skype, Hangouts, What’s App and Houseparty. I have options!
  • And a bidet. 😉

But the reality is that none of us knows how long this will last. And the leadership in this country is woefully inept.

For example, Gov. Kemp opened the Georgia beaches, superseding more restrictive local orders. He also said he didn’t know sometimes people were asymptomatic. 🙄

Sigh.

It’s hard. It’s harder for some than for me, but let me have my moment.

I’ll be fine tomorrow.

Take care of yourselves. I love you all.
Beth

 

Read Full Post »

Dear Friends Worried About My Sanity and My Son’s Life:

Thank you for your concern. I’m speaking to him again. Why? He said some magic words:

Can I have a hug?

And that was it.

(Don’t tell anyone that I have a secret soft side.)

In return for putting up with his bad behavior, though, I secured the rights to publish a ridiculous picture of him.

Before I show it to you, let me set the scene:

Eddie is picking up Gideon from track practice. It’s only Dominic and me at home. I guess he doesn’t realize I’m home because he calls me on the phone. (And you all know how I feel about talking on the phone.)

(The call is coming from INSIDE the house!)

Mama! Can you come help me? I’m stuck!

Just then, Eddie calls.

Can you help your son? He is stuck in the bed.

Wait … what?

So I go in his room and I see this:

No child was harmed in the taking of this photo.

It’s an antique bed. This child slid off the end of it and trapped himself. I took the picture then helped him escape.

(For those of you wondering why I stopped to take a photo, it’s like you don’t even know me! In our family, if someone does something stupid, we laugh and/or document it first, then ask questions.)

Also notice his acid-washed jeans. Those are in style again, people (as are fanny packs).

Sigh.

Anyway, he’s fine. And we’re fine — until the next time the hormones take control.

I’ll be sure to update you.

Yours truly,
Beth

 

Read Full Post »