Princess Douchebag, this one’s for you! (Trigger warning)

I’m sure a lot of you are already aware of a photo gone viral these past few days.

Yes…I’m talking about this brain dead heifer right here. She was studying Auschwitz with her late father…and thought that this photo would be a great way to honor his memory.

I take selfies, sure. I like taking pictures of historical places and artifacts from different eras. However, talking a smiling selfie at Auschwitz and posting it is 100 degrees of fucked up. The fact that you’re smiling, and the cutesy little smiley face on your tweet is an absolute kick in the teeth to those who have survived and those who lost loved ones at the hands of Der Führer’s goons.

Some idiots are defending this waste of human flesh: “Oh, she’s just young…she doesn’t know any better!”

BULLSHIT. That’s the point; she should have enough sense to know better. No one would have cared about the selfie if she kept it to herself. But no…like a lot of people (especially teenagers) today, she just had to broadcast her stupidity all over the internet.

The funny thing is, she just expected people to be cool about it. Well…how’s that working out for you, sweetie? 😉

Over 6000 people called her out on her moronic actions, but, she regrets nothing. I made a Tweet about it as well: “Way to shit on your dad’s memory, you second-rate attention whore”

I hear she likes to tweet death threats to those who are calling her out. I’ve got one thing to say: Bring it, bitch.

A few months back, we had a guest lecturer in one of my German classes. He was a retired professor who was in Germany when everything was happening with the Nazis. He talked about being sent to the ghettos, the yellow Stars of David with “Jude” they had to wear, and all the other aspects of it. He lost several of his friends and loved ones to Auschwitz. I wonder if he’s seen this shit…and if he has, what does he think of it? This was someone who actually dealt with the horrors, and I’m furious on his behalf.

He brought this, and some of the paperwork from that time and displayed them to us. He let me take a picture of his star.

I can take a picture of something from a shitty time in history, and not cause a viral shitstorm.

Sadly enough, she’s not the only one who’s taken a selfie at a place of remembrance. She is, however, the biggest jackass about it.

I’m not going to bother wishing hateful shit on you; you’re getting crucified for your idiotic actions, and that is enough for me. 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂

(See what I did there?) 😉

If reproducing makes one SO mature, what’s with THIS guy?

What started off as a rant on my friend’s timeline has unintentionally turned into a bingo debunking.

Before I start today’s rantage, I’m going to give this gentleman (and any other breeders reading this) some sound advice: If you’re easily offended and/or having a really shitty day, perhaps the internet is NOT the best place for you to be. You let your emotions get the best of you, then you start acting really stupid.

My friend is very pissed off (and rightfully so) because breeders, wannabes, and breeder groupies keep trying to join childfree groups on Facebook. We childfree people need our own places to blow off some steam. Parents have far more support groups out there…why the fuck would you want to invade OUR spaces?

Cue the butthurt breeder….

I’m going to dissect some of this written diarrhea…

“Thank you for telling me there is someplace I don’t belong. Makes me feel great as a human being.” 

Is it me, or does this guy sound like he’s in high school? There are plenty of places I don’t belong, but I’m not acting like it’s the end of the fucking world.

“No, just pointing out that you are excluding an entire group of people without understanding their intentions. I am child free, yet I’ve had two children. I support anyone that is CF, but apparently, I am not good enough to be in your little club.” 😦 (Cue violin music…)

I’m pointing out that you have no understanding of the definition of childfree…it means no kids ever. You may not be with the kids, but the fact is, you bred…therefore, you are NOT childfree.

As far as ‘support’, we’ve had parents invade our groups just to bingo the shit out of us. In most groups, there are trolls, and they are properly roasted as such. If you parents REALLY want to ‘support’ us, then do so by staying the fuck out of our spaces, and we’ll stay out of yours. Capisce?

Now, the sparks are really beginning to fly. My friend had pointed out to this fool that she wasn’t addressing HIM specifically…but he sure seems to be taking it that way. Now he’s on his rampage about his ex running off with his kids. She’s trying to be cool about the situation, but she’s standing her ground on ‘no breeders allowed’. (I salute you, Miss Katt.)

He’s now turning this whole thing into a diatribe about hate speech…I love how he’s twisting the whole thing to be on par with racism. I’d call him a dolt, but I’m not in the mood to give out compliments.

“Please stop using the word breeder in this context. It is offensive and insensitive. It makes me feel like less of a person in your eyes. It is very hurtful.” (Edited for spelling.)

Why is it then whenever we talk about human reproduction, breeding is a bad term? It’s still sexual reproduction…lots of animals do it. We can talk about breeding pigs, dogs, cattle….but use that same term with human attached, and everyone loses their fucking minds.

In all honestly…if this guy is so offended by what my friend is posting on her own timeline, why can’t he just send her a PM, instead of making himself a target of ridicule? He could have saved himself so much trouble.

“Pity, party of one, your table is ready.” 

Our heroine is STILL trying to reason with this idiot (I would’ve either given up, or told him to IM me about it.) However, he decides to take the more dramatic route and just flounce. So much for ‘kids make you more mature’.

ETA: I almost forgot…

 

Blasting the CF vegan trolls…

Before I actually start this, I must add a disclaimer: What I say in this blog post does NOT go for all vegans. I don’t hate vegans as a whole…just the overly zealous ones. I don’t give two shits about what you eat or why you eat it. I don’t dictate your diet…so don’t dictate mine.

Every group has its share of assholes, and the childfree community is certainly no exception. I may have mentioned this before…but CF people are a mixed bag. We come from different religious backgrounds, ethnic groups, socio-economic statuses, continents, etc. The only thing we all have in common is the absence of desire to have children (whether by birth, adoption or fostering).

I’ve been a member of several childfree Facebook groups in the past. We get the occasional troll roasts (always entertaining). Once in a blue moon, we’re attacked by (supposedly) one of our own for not exactly mirroring his/her views.

This happened a while back; this ‘vegan crusader’ posted a link about terminally ill children going on a deer hunt. While I do think that’s rather ironic in itself, I’m certainly not going to give myself an aneurysm over it. Anyway, his epic tale of rantage was just over 100 comments in total. He deleted his stupidity not long after it was over, but I did screen cap it for your viewing pleasure.

I just love that from the moment one individual (gently) disagrees with him, she’s suddenly Sarah Palin and that she deserves cancer, and that he (as the almighty vegan hero) does not. As our heroine points out, it’s idiots like him that perpetuate the whole “childfree are evil” stereotype. I may not be fond of a lot of people, but I’m certainly not wishing cancer on them (unless they’re my worst enemies).

He goes on about how barbaric we all are for not agreeing with him…yet he’s the one wanting hateful shit to happen to us.

 

Ah, yes…now we’re moving on from cancer to rape, and lauding Adam Lanza as a hero for shooting those kids. All the decent vegans are probably cringing right now, knowing that these fools are a real detriment to their cause.

He now wants to euthanize the starving people in the world, then calls US ignorant for not kowtowing to his bullshit. What was that saying…you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar?

And he STILL can’t handle it when someone calls him out… 😀

Wow…cavemen didn’t know better, but I’m evil? At this point, I’m laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Again, I know several vegans in real life, and NONE of them have ever acted like this moron. I hope the decent vegans of world see this, and blast him.

Our poor, poor hero…defeated by people who just didn’t want to agree with him. 😦

Before I go on with my next example, I just want to say that yes, I love meat. I’ve seen a few slaughterhouse videos and read The Jungle, but I’m still a meat eater. Do I eat it all the time and sing praises about it? Fuck no, I don’t. Do I strap some poor vegan to a chair, a la Clockwork Orange and force-feed them steak? No, I do not. (To the carnivores that do this shit, knock it the fuck off already!)

What I absolutely abhor is when I get bingoed about my diet. I don’t doubt vegans/vegetarians get questioned all the time about what they eat. In that respect, it’s no different than being bingoed about having kids, or following any particular religion.

What puzzles me is that if this idiot (and the next one) don’t like being bothered about having kids, why the fuck would they then turn around and bother someone else about what they choose to put in their bodies? They don’t like being bingoed, so doing it to someone else about something else…is that really going to solve anything?

CF people get enough shit about being CF…the last fucking thing we need is fighting amongst ourselves about other aspects of our lives. My life, my diet. Your life, your diet….seriously, how fucking difficult is that?

Now, then…we move on to Exhibit B. The OP is celebrating her fiance’s vasectomy, and she mentions that he wanted to have a steak dinner. Here’s the clusterfuck that follows:

So far, so good… 🙂

Annnnd…so it begins. Some veggie asshole wanting to promote his own causes on a group that has nothing to do with them. Can’t a girl post something sans drama?

Just like the moron above, this one is lumping meat eaters into all the evil-doer categories.

*epic facebrick* -_-

He SAYS he’s not calling anyone evil…I say otherwise.

I can’t blame the last poster. These CF vegans that are preaching at us are NOT exactly finding willing converts.

This asshole is still trying to tell people what to think. He’s no better than a breeder or fundy Christian.

After all of this, the idiot finally got banned. (I’m friends with one of the mods.)

Both of these incidents took place months back, but I haven’t had the drive to write a post about them until now.

Again, I have no problem with veggies in general. I’ve even tried vegan foods. Some are pretty damned good (almond milk, Bee Free Honee, ABC cookies), and some need to go back to the drawing board (I’m talking to you, seitan jerky).

If you want to forego meat for whatever reason, that is totally your business. Do NOT act like a breeder/fundie and force your lifestyle on the rest of the world. You hate it when it happens to you, so why not rise above it and just live your life?

P.S. If some of you have pets, and you claim to love your animals so much, do not force your lifestyle on to your pet. Dogs and cats (especially cats) are not designed to eat a veggie diet.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/07/24/kitten-vegan-diet-nearly-dies_n_3644213.html

(You have no clue how much this pisses me off…)

 

 

 

To SOME mommy bloggers: YOU are the reason why some childfree people mock your stupid asses!

 

http://www.scarymommy.com/rules-for-visiting-a-new-mom/

You know the scene: A close girlfriend has her long-awaited new baby and you feel the need to hightail it to her house to hold that little bundle of joy. In fact, it takes all of your self-control to not show up at the hospital and interrupt the precious few hours that she’ll have a staff doting on her around the clock. Either it’s because you love that new baby smell or you think Mama is going to have hurt feelings if you don’t show interest in her newest family member, but regardless, you are going to hold that baby. This is what we do as women, yes?

Au contraire, mon amie. I distinctly remember being two months into motherhood and realizing that I didn’t need or want any more girlfriends stopping by and over-stimulating my colicky, sensitive child with their scary foreign faces, inappropriately loud voices, or refusal to stop bouncing him for even a few minutes. Give the baby a break from the bouncing, ladies. Do you think I want him to get used to that? No, I don’t, because I’m tired and I don’t want to have to bounce him myself.

I’m already laughing my ass off…first of all, Mooooomy will be damned lucky if she has any friends left. New baby smell…yes, some of us just love the enticing aromas of fecal matter, sour milk, piss and puke. As far as your hurt little feelings, I just don’t give a fuck. Not everyone thinks your little sprog is cute.

No, not ALL women want to hold babies; that’s more bullshit propagated by our overly brainwashed, natalistic society.

Now I’m a mother and realize that if you want to hold that babe in the first four months before the yummy new baby smell wears off, then there are some rules governing that situation…

Hahahaha…”yummy new baby smell”, my ass! (In case your missed it, read above!) :p As far as ‘your’ rules, kiss my fat white tattooed ass, SanctiMommy! 😉

Bring food that you know they’ll like. This means a take-out lunch from a higher-end restaurant and bring enough food so that Daddy has something to eat when he gets home. Chicken, fish, steak, or something that fits their special diet. Don’t be stingy; buy enough for leftovers. Don’t make something on your own unless it actually tastes good. It’s best to spend a little money and treat them to something nice since it’s going to be a long, long time before they go to a restaurant again. I hate to say it, but if you can’t afford to buy her a decent lunch, then you need to consider whether you can really afford to hold this baby.

Your ungrateful ass will be lucky if I bring you Ramen Noodles from the dollar store. Demanding much? Besides, how the fuck do you know that said friends aren’t on tight budgets themselves? Oh, but why on earth would you consider that? After all, it’s ALL about Moo and her precious little Snotleigh. If you want said food that fucking bad, get it yourself.

Don’t eat her food. Does Mama have some pulled pork or a rack of short ribs simmering in the crock-pot when you arrive? Don’t you dare accept any of it if she offers. She is being polite and you are not actually a guest. You are an intruder. Remember: Everything that you don’t eat is leftovers for them tomorrow, so don’t eat anything at all. You can have some water if you get it yourself. You need to be on high alert to recognize fake offers of food/gifts/favors and so on from this woman; she is likely out of her mind from sleep deprivation and doesn’t know what she’s saying, but she will still remember your greediness years later.

I would have cut all ties to someone like this forever ago, so no need to worry there, Mama Bear!

Bring a gift, even if you already gave a baby shower gift. Ask Mama what she needs or check her registry for lingering purchases. Don’t get your panties in a bunch about this one; it can be something as simple as a case of pacifiers or replacement pump pieces– things that only cost a few bucks. Nobody ever said that a gift had to be a surprise in order to be good. When in doubt, ask what diapers they use and bring those. If you buy the cheapest diapers you can find that are imported from Mexico, she’ll be dealing with scratchy leaky diapers and cursing your name at 4am.

Oh, do fuck off already. YOU gave birth to the thing; why the fuck should everyone else buy shit for something YOU chose to do? Perhaps I should start begging people for money for rent and groceries…

Your stupid ass had NINE GODDAMN MONTHS to get this shit together… no one else should have to pick up YOUR slack. Baby showers? I’d rather be at a goddamned family reunion! (And THAT is pretty bad in itself…)

Snap Away. If you’re a semi-pro photographer, bring your camera and your most flattering lens. Don’t try to sell her the portraits later. Send them for free.

Nope…not happening. I have far better things to take pictures of (like cats, bats, etc.)

No summer dresses in winter. Don’t bring size-inappropriate-for-the-season clothing that suits your taste and not theirs. Babies grow fast. Use your brain.

I AM using my brain…I’m not getting you shit. Suck it up, buttercup.

Don’t bring decorative kick-knacks. As much fun as you might think it is, no mother wants you to decorate her new baby nursery. Decorating the nursery is strictly relegated to mom and dad and you can keep your over-sized stuffed animals, picture frames, and inspirational quotes out of it. Nobody wants something extra to dust around when they have a new baby. Don’t make Mama waste a stamp graciously thanking you for some random thing you dug up at Tuesday Morning that she never wanted in the first place.

LMAO…holy fuck, can this bitch get any MORE delusional?

Make yourself useful. Is your new-mother friend one of those controlling types who doesn’t want anyone helping with her housework? Your friend needs to get over it because in about 8 months that baby is going to be mobile and her days of being in control of her surroundings are officially a thing of the past.

Your ‘friend’ can hire a fucking maid. Enough said.

Do the dishes. If the kitchen sink is full of dishes, turn on the water, rinse them off, and start loading them up in the dishwasher. Load them smart because you know how much we hate it when the dishwasher is loaded wrong. Don’t halfheartedly ask Mama if maybe you can help out in some way because she’s going to say no even though she means “God, yes, please someone help me for once.” Just do it.

Or the laundry. Look around and spy a pile of clean clothes that needs to be folded? Do you have two working hands? Fold the laundry, even the underwear.

Not your slave, bitch. Do your own fucking chores. My mom certainly never acted THIS entitled when she gave birth to the three of us…

Be that friend. One of my friends not only brought food and a gift, but she called from the drugstore to see if I needed anything (indeed, I did need nursing pads for those leaky boobs no one warned me about) and started putting away all of the odds and ends that belonged in the baby’s closet that I couldn’t reach because of my c-section. When she asked what she could do it wasn’t really a question as much as it was a statement and request for orders.

Another girlfriend came over with her husband for an afternoon. He sat in a chair and rocked the baby while she cleaned my kitchen spotless, including shining up the stainless steel of the refrigerator. What did I do? I took a bath and washed and dried my hair for the first time in a week. You know when your hair gets so dirty that the roots hurt? That was my hair. I had an entire hour to myself where I wasn’t listening for the baby to cry for the first time since becoming a mother two months prior. When I tried to check on the baby in the living room she whispered, “Get out of here. He can smell your milk.”

Good fucking gravy, how pathetic can you possibly get?

But not THAT friend. I can honestly say that there were a few visitors during that time of my life who had me thinking, “I’m being held hostage by this tiny person who just threw up in my eyes and you didn’t even bring me anything?” Don’t be that friend. Learn from me, the reformed do-nothing baby holder. Last summer when a friend had a new baby, I brought a small gift and lunch whenever I went to see her because I knew she felt so overwhelmed. These days I don’t even give birthday presents without asking Mama what the little one needs, or if my gift idea is alright with her.

If you’ve been a blatant do-nothing baby holder in the past, fear not. Make a mental note to buy the child a special gift for their next birthday party and rest easy knowing that at some point, your day of having vomit in your eyes will come and you will find yourself wondering what the hell these baby-holding friends are doing in your house.

You CHOSE to become a breeder…no one forced you to do it, and no one should HAVE to worship the fruit of your pork loins. I’m actually amazed that you have any friends left, what with that over-inflated sense of entitlement.

It’s shit like this that makes me happy that I got sterilized. I know that not all moms act like this, but the ones that do are totally fucking it up for everyone else.

For further reading on over-entitled breeders, check this out: http://www.glorialemay.com/blog/?p=34

Deoxyribonucleic acid does NOT a family make!

(Why did I spell out DNA? Because it’s my blog, and I can do that!) 😉

After realizing that summer is now officially here, it brings out a lot of things…mainly, family gatherings. If you’re the type that actually enjoys being with that group your were born into, then this post doesn’t really pertain to you.

Like a good chunk of people out there, I don’t really care to be around people with whom I have genetic material in common. I’ve been bingoed on lots of things from how I wear my hair (see pics from my previous post), to religion (I’m an atheist), to my looks, even down to what kind of bag I carry. (Yes, one of my aunts actually bitched about my carrying a backpack instead of a purse.)

There was also a lot of questioning on my tattoos…as if these assholes have any right to judge. This was over eight years ago, but I’m not willing to let that go so easily. This inquisition, if you will, came from an aunt on Dad’s side that I used to enjoy talking to…until the time I drove up to visit the family, and it happened after her eldest son’s confirmation. That night, she went from semi-cool aunt into judgmental cuntcake. “How are you going to get a job?” “How’s that going to look when you’re forty?” “I had a friend who got a tattoo…and she regretted it!!” I finally told her to not worry about it, it wasn’t her life. However, I decided soon after that this particular aunt was no longer welcome in my life.

I must also mention this aunt forced me to be in her wedding when I was eleven…I had to carry a heavy jug of wine down the aisle. (It could have been worse…I could have been the flower girl!) I wanted no part of that ridiculous charade, but my parents made me, because that’s what the bitch wanted. I’ve had an inordinate hatred for weddings since.

 

I’ve been fed the bullshit of ‘family loves you no matter what’ the entire time I was growing up…only to find out that most of the time, they’re just a bunch of two-faced, backstabbing fucks.

Another aunt (also Dad’s side) who was deemed my godmother for some stupid fucking reason, has a Peter Pan complex when it comes to me. Her oldest daughter (who is younger than I am) is now on her second marriage. Any time I’ve mentioned my age to this aunt…“No, don’t say how old you are! I feel old!!” Right…and having a twice-married daughter doesn’t make you feel old? Okay, then…keep living in Never-Never Land. When I was younger (around 12-13ish), this same dipshit would say to me at every visit, “You’re getting so big!” as if I were 3 years old. -_-

My uncles are, most of the time, inconsiderate douchebags. They have this nasty habit of just showing up out of the blue, never bothering to call to see if we were actually doing other shit.

Read about them here: http://armrant.blogspot.com/2012/05/does-anyone-out-there-know-about.html

Mom’s side isn’t much better…in fact, until the day she died, Mom stopped speaking to her siblings. I can see why…they’re a bunch of fucking creeps. There’s the pervy uncle who lives in California; the über-hypocritically-pseudoreligious breeder aunt; the uncle who’s on his death bed, the tinfoil hat wearing uncle, the dead uncle, the aunt who bailed out years ago (I can’t blame her), and Uncle Racist.

Mom used to be close to Uncle Racist, until he fucked her over royally:

 He certainly lives up to the pseudonym I’ve given him: I was convinced that he invented just about every racial slur known to man…well, he definitely used every one of them, anyway. My parents weren’t too worried about us using any of them; we would get our asses kicked from Minneapolis to New York and back.
While we were still living in our old house, this douchebag was going through a divorce. He’d call Mom up every night and whine and cry over it. He didn’t seem to care that she had to work or have kids of her own to worry about, or anything resembling a daily routine. Like clockwork, he’d call her up with the crocodile tear act. After a bit, she’d complain about he was driving her nuts. I even said something about telling him to shut up, but she’d go on about he’s her brother and he needs her. Having someone to vent to is nice, but even that becomes old hat.
And during this peaceful period of calling her and stirring shit up,  my cousins came to our house almost every day. That too, was also growing old. He would drop them off without any idea of when they’d leave. It varied from a couple of hours to all day, sometimes they would even spend the night.
Before we moved to our farm house, this place made a sardine can look like a five-star hotel. (I exaggerate, but it was really cramped.)  Squeezing my parents, the three of us and the five demon spawn into this tiny house for night after night was never the best experience.
It made me wonder….if the folks were sick of helping him out, why keep doing it? If my brothers and I were being idiots like that, we would be told to kick rocks.
But, it wasn’t just the divorce crap that they helped him with (the unexpected visits finally stopped). I lost track of how many times Dad would fix his van or pick him up or give him a lift somewhere. Again, if we pulled all this crap, we’d be told where to go after one time too many. But, for some strange reason, Dad, with all his grumbling, would still help the son of a bitch out. One time, it nearly got Dad killed.
Dad brought Uncle Racist to a store to get something. The store was just robbed prior to them getting there. When they left, they got pulled over by the cops. The cops thought they robbed the place; an eyewitness said they didn’t do it. The lucky part? Dad was driving a truck at the time that backfired very loud when the motor was shut off. If the cops had made him turn off the truck, we would’ve lost Dad a lot sooner than when we did.
After that incident, you’d think that would’ve been the end of that crap. But, it continued ever after we moved, albeit in smaller quantities.

(From my Armchair Rants blog.)

With having aunts and uncles comes cousins; I have tons of them, but I’m only friends with three of them on Facebook. The ones on Dad’s side are mostly middle-class snobs; the ones on Mom’s side don’t really do much but get married and have kids. That may be great for them, but I want much more out of life than just settling for domesticity.

Due to a lot of this ignorance, I’ve happily skipped all of the family gatherings ever since I had the ability to. The gatherings all sucked when I was younger, and I’m sure things haven’t changed much. Some people may think that spending holidays alone or with friends would be lonely, but I actually enjoy it…I’ve never felt the need to share the happenings in my life with someone I don’t care for. Holidays are far less stressful when you don’t have to deal with the family drama.

Throughout my adult years, I’ve come to the conclusion that family (the DNA type) isn’t really all that wonderful…they’ve let me down more than anything else. I prefer creating my own family, with people that actually love me the way I am; tattoos, androgyny, childfreedom, nerdiness, the whole works. I believe I have found such people over the years…from my friends in Virginia, to some of the awesome people I’ve met in college, and many wonderful folks I’ve met in the Navy. These people have helped me through more crises than the gene pool-wading bastards ever have.

To those of you struggling with idiot families, hang in there. If you absolutely have to break free from the toxicity, then do it. It will be hard at first…but you will feel peace. It’s worth it, I think. 🙂

Family is who you love, not who shares your genes! 

Embracing Androgyny (My personal journey)

A montage of my appearance over time, if you will:

Summer of 2012

Fall 2013

May 2014

Now

 

As you can see in the pictures above, my appearance has had a tendency to fluctuate from time to time, blurring the gender lines. Growing up, I always considered myself to be straddling the line between girly and tomboyish. I also knew that as the years went on, I would never fit society’s ridiculous standards of ‘feminine beauty’. I seldom wore makeup or wore frilly clothing…and if I did, it was for a special occasion.

I decided (after leaving that hell-hole called high school) that other peoples’ opinions would never dictate my looks ever again. 

Joining the Navy, believe it or not, helped me a lot. I kept my hair short throughout boot camp and most of my career, and I also gained a confidence I never knew I had. I also started to really add to the tattoo collection. I still attracted men and had relationships even though I didn’t look über-feminine. (Though there was one guy who asked if I was gay…) 😉

After my naval career ended, I maintained my appearance for the most part. I was able to get a job and make new friends. Some people did wonder if I was gay (as if looks alone can determine someone’s sexuality). That didn’t bother me, though…because I was (and still am) very comfortable with my sexuality to not let it bother me. I would simply answer, “Nope…I love guys!”

When I moved from Virginia to Minnesota, and after I started college, I experimented more and more with my hair and wardrobe. I went from wearing mostly feminine clothing to buying guys’ T-shirts (because most womens’ shirts are insanely small). I loved wearing nerdy gear, and most of the shirts I wanted came in guys’ sizes. (They also helped in accommodating my 42DD bust.) :p

This also crossed over into jewelry; almost all the ladies’ rings were so small that I couldn’t even fit them on my pinky. They were also rather too frilly and gaudy for my tastes. I’m the type of person who likes wearing bands. Stud earrings are also more for me…I used to wear fancier earrings, but tastes do change. I like to keep things simple, you know?

I came to the conclusion that trying to look like the rest of the so-called ‘girly-girls’ would take up too much time, money, and effort…which I had no desire to do. I decided to just dress how I want, and if people couldn’t accept me as I am, fuck ’em. 

After the move from Bemidji to Minneapolis, I embraced my androgynous nature even more..and started wearing my hair in a modified mohawk. I had wanted to do that for years, and finally got to do so. I freaked my brother out a little, but oh well. (He got over it eventually.)

Once I truly accepted that I was androgynous, I felt nothing but relief. I didn’t have to worry about dressing to impress people…and I still made quite a few friends. As far as dating, well, that will happen when I meet a guy who is very accepting of women who don’t follow the rigid gender norms. I currently go by female pronouns, but I’m open to gender-neutral ones as well.

My name is Sarah, and I am a childfree, atheistic androgyne. 

 

 

Picking apart some of the stupidest things that CF people hear (Bingo analysis)

To those of you who’ve been childfree for any length of time, you’ve probably hear just about every excuse reason in the world why you should breed. In the CF circles, we refer to such idiocy as ‘bingoing’.

(This is just one example of what we hear all the fucking time.)

Just for shits and giggles, I’m going to pick apart each and every one of these…because I can. 🙂

It’s different when it’s your own!

No shit, Sherlock…that’s because I’d be chained to the little snot maggot/petri dish 24/7.

Your child could grow up to cure cancer!

That worked out so well for Adam Lanza and Elliot Rodger, didn’t it?

People like you SHOULD have kids!

People like you SHOULD get out of my uterus, and put your head back up your own ass.

You were a baby once, too!

This is probably one of the MOST idiotic bingos anyone will ever hear. None of us chose to be here, none of us chose to be babies at one point.

(Daria summed it up best.)

What about the family name?

I’m not royalty…and even if I were, I don’t give a flying fuck about the famblee name.

Who will take care of you when you’re old?

Breeders ALWAYS accuse the CF of being selfish for not wanting to breed…yet they expect the kids they SELFISHLY brought into this shitty world to take care of them in their later years. I absolutely can’t stand it when breeders assign roles like that to their offspring. (But, in answer to that asinine question, it’ll be someone I pay.)

What if your parents hadn’t had kids?

That’s 7+ billion less people I have to deal with.

The only reason to get married is to have children! 

Is that so? I was under the misguided impression that people got married because they loved their partners and wanted to make it legal. My bad.

It’s all worth it!

Keep telling yourselves that…I’ll continue to enjoy my independence, fuck you very much.

The biological clock is ticking!

Another myth perpetuated by our overly natalistic society.

You’ll change your mind!

http://usatoday30.usatoday.com/news/health/2008-09-25-Left-kids_N.htm

I won’t change my mind…but who’s to say breeders don’t have regrets? Checkmate, bitches!

If everyone didn’t have kids, the human race would die out!

I could just as easily flip the script; if everyone had kids, the human race would die out. Think about that one…we would more likely die out from overpopulation, rather than underpopulation. Are you up for eating some Soylent Green in the not-too-distant future?

But the Bible said, “Go forth and multiply!”

What fucking century are you living in again? Besides…not everyone bases their lives on a book of misogynistic fairy tales!

You forget the pain of labor and birth!

Of course…that’s why some mothers like to guilt-trip their kids by stating. “I was in labor with you for 72 hours…and this is what I get?Don’t you love your mother, who struggled to give you life?!”

People who don’t want kids are selfish!

Funny, people usually come up with these reasons for breeding; “My genes are wonderful!” “I want someone to love me unconditionally!” “I want to be taken care of in my old age!” “Mom wanted grandchildren!” “It’s about time I settled down!” (Oh, but I’m selfish…gotcha.)

You aren’t a real adult until you have kids!

This…from a demographic who wants mini-mes to play catch/dress-up/tea party/whatever. This coming from a group of people who have shit fits if their precious darlings aren’t allowed in every venue on the planet. I served my country for over eight years, spent time in a war zone…I’m now going to school and paying bills and rent…but the idiot girls on Teen Mom are real adults? Get the fuck out of my face with that bullshit!

Children are a woman’s greatest achievement!

If your biggest achievement in life is doing something that puts you on par with a cockroach, then congratulations…YOU are a fucking simpleton!

Don’t you want to give your parents grandchildren?

My parents are both deceased…and even if they weren’t, the answer is still no.

It’s the most important job in the world!

No, it isn’t…kindly get the fuck over yourselves.

What’s the matter, don’t you LIKE kids?

I don’t like kids being shoved in my face. I don’t like them enough to tolerate them for long periods of time. Also, see the following links:

https://popcornculturejunkie.wordpress.com/2013/03/19/trigger-warning-breeders-before-you-accuse-cf-people-of-being-evil-take-a-long-hard-look-in-the-mirror/ (Killer Moms)

https://popcornculturejunkie.wordpress.com/2013/03/20/trigger-warning-murderous-breeders-part-2-deadly-dads/ (Killer Dads)

The children are our future!

Yes…and the more you keep piling on, the more the future is fucked.

Don’t you want genetic immortality?

If I’m leaving any sort of legacy behind, it’ll be my written works and videos. Don’t bank too much on ‘genetic immortality’ anyway…you people do realize that your genes are cut by 50% with each subsequent generation anyway.

Nothing is better than that ‘new baby’ smell!

Chocolate, coffee, pizza, roses, vanilla, strawberries, cookies, cake….ANYTHING but shitty diapers, baby barf and milk! :p

Aren’t you curious to see what they look like?

Are you aware of the existence of Photoshop, or are you that technologically inept?

 

Of course, this is just the tip of the iceberg. If you come across a moron who does this crap, feel free to use my comebacks, or be creative. 😀

 

 

 

My, things sure have changed since I was a kid…

 

“What do you mean my kids aren’t allowed here? They’re so cute and well-behaved!”

(Photo: Bat World Sanctuary)

As I’m getting closer to my upcoming 37th birthday, I’ve been looking back on a few things. 

If I remember correctly, when I was a kid, I knew that there were places I wasn’t allowed to be in, just due to my age. In that same vein, if my parents wanted couple time (which they certainly did), Grandma would watch us (until I was old enough to be in charge). My parents had no qualms with getting their date nights. 

I also remember something from many years ago; my cousin was visiting from California, and it was his 21st birthday. I hardly saw this cousin, and my mom wanted to take him out for his birthday. I remember wanting to go with (for some reason), but Mom told me I wasn’t allowed because kids don’t belong in bars. 

It’s funny; when I was growing up, there were places that were strictly off-limits to minors. These days, that line seems to be either blurry, or non-existent. It’s also quite obvious that not too many parents are taking time for themselves anymore. 

What in the ever-loving fuck happened here? Why are so many people dragging their little snot demons everywhere they go? What ever happened adult-only venues? I haven’t set foot in a movie theater in years, but from what I’m hearing from fellow CFers, I’m not missing much. The most common excuse for dragging a screaming baby into a late movie: “We couldn’t afford a babysitter!” 

Excuse me. If you can afford to go to a movie (which isn’t cheap these days), you can afford a fucking babysitter. Or: “I don’t trust anyone with my precious!”  That’s your own fault for not making friends and revolving your entire life around your DNA replicant. 

There’s also the issue of weddings (which I’m not a big fan of), and whether or not kids are allowed. Some couples are okay with kids being there; some are not. The ones who want a kid-free wedding are usually demonized for being so mean and selfish. I was forced to be in a wedding as a kid; I hated every fucking moment of that nonsense. 

There’s also bringing kids to bars. I’m not talking about Applebee’s, Ruby Tuesday, etc.. Those places have sections away from the bar. But, kids just don’t need to be everywhere. Adults like their spaces too. 

Don’t get me wrong; if kids are well-behaved in public places and family events, I wouldn’t be having any issues with them. It cracks me up when parents breeders have Mount Etna-proportioned fits when their brats aren’t invited everywhere or get kicked out for acting like little fools. 

Newsflash, breeders: The world doesn’t revolve around you and your snowflakes. Get over yourselves, and stop acting so entitled. You get enough udder rubs as it is.

 

Over-sharing parent bloggers are the scum of the internet (as far as I’m concerned)

Yes, I get it. Parenting blogs are everywhere. I’m not saying they should be banned or anything…but I do think there should be limits as far as privacy is concerned. And by privacy, I mean the kids’ privacy. If the parents themselves want to be (possibly) humiliated all over the internet, then by all means, go for it.

You’re probably wondering; why the fuck would a CF person even care about parent blogs?

Let’s think about this for minute…every time an article about being childfree pops up on HuffPost, Jezebel, or some other site, the parents are all over it like white on rice. So, the above question could also be applied to parents; why would you care about CF articles, blogs, etc.?

The short answer would be curiosity…just seeing how the other side lives, perhaps. Another possible answer could be judgement; human beings judge each other ALL the fucking time (I’m certainly no exception there).

Normally, I wouldn’t even give two shits about parent bloggers. (Oh, who the fuck am I kidding? Schadenfreude, of course.) I do, however, take exception with those that can’t be bothered with hiding their kids’ identities. Dooce, Daddy Files, DADCamp, etc., are definitely guilty of doing this type of shit. You asshats are definitely setting up your kids for being bullied at some point in the future (if not already). As someone who has experienced bullying as a kid, it really pisses me off that you’d be willing to set your kids up like that just so you’d get those extra page hits. 

Sadly, those stories aren’t leaving the internet anytime soon. What’s to stop your kids’ future high (or middle) school classmates from finding out about those embarrassing blog posts from years ago?

I also feel bad for some of the spouses, believe it or not. If your spouse is a private person, stop putting all of their personal shit on your blog! The daddy bloggers are certainly guilty of doing this.

http://www.daddyfiles.com/come-back-to-me/ (I seriously doubt his wife actually gave him permission…)

http://dad-camp.com/fatherhood/will-apologize-kids-blogs/ (If this bastard were really sorry, he’d stop already)

I could post more examples, but these were the ones that stuck out the most. They’ve also bitched about the childfree in the past, so why should I be kind to them?

To all the parent bloggers that actually give their kids aliases, thank you. At least you’ve somewhat thought ahead.

 

To Shitty Parents Everywhere: WE don’t want to get sick because of YOUR lack of common sense!

I’ve been reading stories lately about parents either not cleaning up after a diaper change, or just doing it on a table that other people eat off of. The one story that’s aggravating me right now is the Starbucks incident. This happened in Denver; a woman and her husband were making a coffee run, there were no changing tables, so she changed the kid on the table. An employee handed her a rag and asked her to clean up. Dear old Dad threw a conniption, and his coffee, onto the floor and told the employee to “clean that up”. Wow, Dad…what a stunning model of maturity you are! The police were called, but no charges were filed.

http://www.ksdk.com/news/world/article/380371/28/Starbucks-diaper-change-ends-with-call-to-police?sf12781216=1

How about this? A woman went to a party at a dealership, and ended up spreading the Norovirus because of her actions. She knew her toddler was sick, yet decided to drag her out into the public anyway. She did not even clean up after herself after her child had a diaper bomb on the changing station. An employee tried to clean up, but only had dry paper towels, thanks to the janitor’s closet being locked up. This ended up spreading the funky virus, and several people got very sick, all because of one inconsiderate breeder.

http://www.oregonlive.com/washingtoncounty/index.ssf/2013/05/diaper_table_linked_to_hillsbo.html

Yes, some places could have some more diaper changing tables, but they don’t have to. They’re there as a common courtesy. You so-called parents today are going to have to understand that society does not have to cater to you whatsoever. I think society’s done far too much of that already.

Before you harpies screech out, “You’re not a parent! You don’t know what it’s like!” No shit, I’m not a parent; I wasn’t dumb enough to follow the herd. I do, however, have enough common sense to know that shit carries and spreads diseases.

I don’t know why you people forget this stuff all the time. Oh, wait, my bad…some of you are coprophiliacs! You must be; you certainly enjoy posting pictures of your kids’ poop on Facebook, and constantly talking about colors and consistencies. The rest of the world doesn’t give a damn.

I’m not giving parenting advice; I’m just telling like it is. I know real parents that actually use their brains and keep their sick kids home (unless they’re going to a doctor). They also go out to the car, or find someplace else if they walk, to change their kids’ diapers. They have more than enough sense not to use public tables.

As a bonus, here’s a complaint from a dad addressed to Starbucks:

Dear Starbucks…I love you. I spent several years working for you. I stand up for and defend you when people talk bad about you. But this takes the cake and, although you apologized, this is INSANE!It wasn’t until I became a parent that I realized how incredibly ridiculous it was that you don’t have high chairs in your coffee shops and changing tables in your bathrooms. By doing so, there are many parents who no longer want to frequent your shops. I remember a thing called the “third place environment” that you wanted to create…it seems to me that if we can’t put our kid in a high chair or change their diaper in your bathroom…your shop is not the third place that I want to be at.Don’t get me wrong, I’m still an avid Starbucks fan, and will continue to frequent your shops and defend you when people talk bad, but just know when I have my children with me, Starbucks isn’t going to be on the top of my places to go list.

Let’s see, Mr. Hot-Shot former employee…there are a few things here. Why should they have apologized to two filthy pigs who were clearly in the wrong?  If you were still an employee, and you came across a similar incident, would you let them change their kid on a table? You may be a parent now, but something tells me you would pull the same entitled attitude and do the same thing. Until Starbucks has a play area similar to Mickey D’s and kids’ menus, they don’t have to be a family-friendly place. If you ‘parents’ are so concerned about floor germs, bring some changing pads. If you have enough money for coffee and going out, you have enough money for extra changing pads.

Stop whining; you made you bed, now lie in it! And that goes for all breeders. No one gives two shits about how difficult it is to be a parent. You chose to do it. More importantly, stop spreading your filthy shit everywhere. Some of us actually care about our health.