Oasis by Amanda Palmer
Wednesday, October 29th, 2008Here is amazing Amanda Palmer’s new video for “Oasis!” I love this song!!!
Archive for the ‘Women’s Issues’ Category
Regarding Palin
Tuesday, September 23rd, 2008I am being accused of sexually objectifying Sarah Palin, and I did it because I think it is funny – mostly because she is anti-gay, and would like people like me to be sent to a camp where we can study the bible with other gays and lesbians and have electrodes placed on our privates until we are forced to become heterosexual – like her and um, Track. So I said I would like to do rude things to her, because frankly, I like pussy, and I am not giving it up anytime soon – no matter what the “Christians” have to say about it. Gay sex is monumentally more fun than straight sex. God made it that way, so we would stay gay! He wants us to persevere! Stay strong!! Gay sex is better than straight sex. Sorry, it just is – I should know – I have liberal amounts of both. And Sarah Palin is missing out.
However, I do feel the misogyny against Palin – you would have to be blind not to see it. The interview with Charlie Gibson was where I felt it most acutely. Gibson had such contempt for her – of course due to her inexperience and utter inability to answer any question properly and saying the word “nucular” – but I feel if she were a man, he wouldn’t have had as much hatred in his eyes. The last idiotic VP – Dan Quayle – was met with a certain amount of criticism, but it was nothing compared to what Palin has had to face, and will continue to face.
I am certainly not defending Palin – because make no mistake – she is the ultimate misogynist. She is a woman hater in the extreme. To force women to have children against their will, to deny abortion rights EVEN in cases of incest and rape is abominable. She is an insult to feminism, a sickening example what a woman will do to other women in order to please men and further her own career. Women do shit like that to other women to keep them down – to make their achievement seem more extraordinary – to keep women out of their way, so they can enjoy all the power and the men themselves, and that stuff makes them worse than sexist men. It is worse to be a traitor than a perpetrator. That she made rape victims pay for their own forensic exams shows that she believes that women somehow deserved to be raped – that it is our fault, just like unplanned pregnancy, just like being victimized by men – or women like her. She acts like all women are wearing a miniskirt and are asking for it. So fuck her.
Bowling for Boobies
Friday, September 19th, 2008I am truly sorry that I am going to have to miss “Bowling for Boobies” in LA on October 13, but people should check it out!
It is a very important event that supports the Busted Foundation, which raises money for women who are dealing with breast cancer. There will be lots of hot celebs there bowling with their boobies. I am kind of a good bowler too, so I am upset that I can’t be there!! I have to hold my boobs in while I am bowling because I bowl so hard I could bowl my boobies right off my body. Strike!!!
Check it out and create your own Bowling for Boobies team!
Palin
Friday, September 12th, 2008At first I thought Sarah Palin was some kind of Republican pandering – a misguided attempt to woo Hillary voters over to the dark side, as if they believed women voters were so stupid that they would vote for anyone in skirt, but now I see that she is much, much worse.
I have nothing against hockey moms – I just don’t want to be one. If Sarah Palin had her way, she would take away that right not to be a mom. She wants to outlaw abortion – so to call her a feminist is as laughable as calling evangelicals ‘Christians.’ They shouldn’t have the right to call themselves Christian, for they have no Christ-like attributes. I am a feminist and a Christian – and when I see Sarah Palin – I see neither. And it is official. She is evil. I saw on Violet Blue’s awesome blog that Sarah Palin forced rape victims to pay for their own forensic exams.
This is serious and bad.
My Own Body
Thursday, April 24th, 2008I make a big deal about showing off my physique whenever I can because I think it is important for people to know what a 39 year old woman looks like. I don’t see that many images of women like myself out there, so I want to be a good example. Whenever I can, I put on a bikini or even just pasties and a g-string because I don’t want to hide out. I think that too many people have body issues, and if we just confront those issues head on, we can get rid of them.
For years I kept myself covered up because when I was doing TV a very long time ago, one of the executives I was working with said after my first screen test, “Never, ever show your stomach in public again,” and it just made me feel so freaked out by my own body. I just wanted to disappear. It sent me into a dieting frenzy that was almost deadly.
Now that I am older and wiser, I just want to enjoy my life, and not worry so much about what people think of me, how I look, if I am too fat or something – I just don’t give a shit.
It’s not a compound!
Wednesday, April 23rd, 2008Here is an amazing video made by my husband, Al. It’s not a compound!!!
Polygamists
Monday, April 21st, 2008I’m so glad I am not a polygamist.
First of all, I don’t really like pie. I know that is weird. Pie is good, but for some reason, I don’t like to eat it because usually it is too hot and I burn my tongue, and it is too sweet, so it gives me a crazy sugar high really fast and then I am exhausted. Polygamists seem to eat a lot of pie. I am not sure if this is a known fact, but a pie seems to complete the polygamist outfit.
Which leads me to the outfit - even though pastels like baby blue, lilac and soft pink flatter me, I don’t want to wear the big shouldered prairie dress. Don’t get me wrong – I love “Little House on the Prairie” but only when it is kept in the realm of ‘drag’ and not worn every day for religious purposes. The shoulders are too wide and lambchoppy to make anyone look good.
I don’t want to marry anyone that much older than me. Not just because of the sex (which would be not so fun to begin with but at least old people finish either super fast or super slow) but because there would be nothing fun to talk about. How do you relate to each other? It would be boring!
I also don’t want to be a polygamist because then I would probably have to cook or clean and I don’t know how to do either of those things. Also I have terrible allergies, so if I had to live in any kind of compound situation I am sure I would die of a runny nose.
I feel really bad for all those children, because they are the victims who are only being punished again by being separated from their families, but how can they be saved from their fate unless they are taken away? The whole thing is super sad but it also makes you really grateful not to be a polygamist.
Donut Pussy
Wednesday, April 2nd, 2008I had a new procedure called the “G-Shot,” which is kind of like plastic surgery, kind of a body modification – but you don’t see it. It is on the inside. It isn’t something I would necessarily normally do, because I am very happy with my vagina the way it is. It is one of the finest in the world, and really needs little embellishment. It has served me well for many years and there are lots of miles left on it.
I got the G-shot as part of my new VH1 show, “The Cho Show,” which I am filming right now and it is so fucking awesome you are going to just scream when you see it – I am so excited! Anyway, the G-Shot is an injection of collagen into your G-Spot that is supposed to enhance any kind of stimulation there. It is for women who have limited sensation in their vagina, which is me. My puss is more clitoral than vaginal. I am more into the outside than the inside. I am more about display than content. Whenever I go to a party, I tend to hang out on the steps rather than in the house and I never go into the backyard. And to keep the party analogy going, I don’t even have a G-Spot, per say, one place where the party is all centered, but there are lots of smaller events happening all over the area. Mine isn’t a G-Spot. More like a G-Block Party. My pussy is a lot like Coachella. There are a lot of bands hanging around waiting to play.
So I got it done at a fancy Beverly Hills gyno office and it was somewhat uncomfortable. First the G-Spot must be located. The poor doctor had to poke around in there for a long time, and it reminded me of this one guy who was looking for it many years ago, all thumbs in there going “Where’s your spot? Where’s your spot?” It didn’t feel good and I was like, “uh, I usually park on the street.” The doctor came upon an area that felt more sensitive than the other areas (more partying going on there than elsewhere) so she shot up that region with an anesthetic – which was painful!! I needed anesthesia for my anesthesia! It was so prickly and hurting that she had to shoot me up twice with the numbing agent. Then they got the big needle out, which I didn’t feel but looked so scarily long that I thought the end might poke out through my back! OW!!!!
So since then, I haven’t felt any sexual enhancement at all. If anything it makes me not want to do it, which is incredible because I always want to do it – so it doesn’t work as any kind of aphrodisiac, but would be a good punishment for sex offenders. Now my vagina just feels like there is a gel insole in there. Like my cervix is wearing boot socks. I am totally asexual and I feel like I am sitting on a hemorrhoid donut all the time. I really feel kind of bad complaining about the procedure, because the doctor was so nice, and I am all about supporting anything that benefits women and their sexuality. I totally think that the spirit of the thing is cool. Women should feel good in their bodies and if surgery can enhance that, I am all for it. Unfortunately, the G-Shot just wasn’t for me, but it might be for you. There are lots of raves from women about it, and more often than not the results are supposed to be mindblowing, just not for me!
It lasts for four months so I will be at the convent until the swelling goes down.
Chubby
Tuesday, March 25th, 2008Just read an article about myself where I described myself as “chubby” and I think that it is a fairly unacceptable description, and I want to apologize to myself for saying it, because that is just wrong. I am not chubby – and to call myself that is to endanger the lives of millions of young girls who look to the media to define who they are, who are constantly checking themselves for fear of wrecking themselves, who are afraid to be thought of as “chubby,” who don’t realize that they are perfect as they are, and it is irresponsible. I fear they will read this article and look at my body and be scared because it is like theirs, and they will then think of themselves as “chubby” and learn to hate themselves more. To call me “chubby” is to call a billion women “chubby” who shouldn’t think of themselves as anything less than hot and sexy and curvy and built. I am not “chubby.” I am a real live perfectly beautiful woman, and just because I may be larger than the mostly anorexic female population in Hollywood, it doesn’t make me any less desirable or gorgeous because I like food. I take it back, as I must take back all the millions of insults that I hurl at myself without knowing it. I would never, ever say any of the horrible things I say to myself about myself to anyone else, not even someone I hated, because there is no one I could possibly hate that much. We must stop fighting the war against ourselves before we can truly start to love ourselves. We are not “chubby,” we are perfect. We are beautiful. We are so very very beautiful.
High Class Hoes
Tuesday, March 18th, 2008This whole Spitzer scandal is amazing, but what I find the most incredible is how expensive the prostitutes were. Up to $31,000 a day! That rules! Talk about HIGH CLASS HOES!! That is some pricey pussy and I hope it was worth it. Damn! It must be lined with chinchilla and diamonds. (7 to be exact! Ow! Rough edges!) That is a solid platinum cunt. Like something you see in SKYMALL - you are not really paying for just the pussy, you are paying for shipping and insurance. That is really cool! I have much respect for hoes. I wish I had thought to charge. I was usually so fucked up back then, when I was spreading it for the masses, I would just say, “Oh – um. Uh, alright…”
I could have had a credit card machine! I am thinking maybe I should bill people now for it.
America’s Next Top President
Friday, January 25th, 2008Check this article out.
CNN received dozens of e-mails shortly after posting the story, which focuses largely on conversations about Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama that a CNN reporter observed at a hair salon in South Carolina whose customers are predominantly African-American.
The story states: “For these women, a unique, and most unexpected dilemma, presents itself: Should they vote their race, or should they vote their gender?”
An e-mailer named Tiffany responded sarcastically: “Duh, I’m a black woman and here I am at the voting booth. Duh, since I’m illiterate I’ll pull down the lever for someone. Hm… Well, he black so I may vote for him… oh wait she a woman I may vote for her… What Ise gon’ do? Oh lordy!”
I too am insulted at the idea that just because I am a person of color and a woman that I should be expected to automatically vote for Obama or Hillary. Why are white men allowed to look at the issues and judge for themselves and the rest of us are expected to take sides grade school style? That is racist and sexist and dumb. That is like if all the stupid people voted for Huckabee (please God let this not happen).
Still, I believe Obama and Hillary the best candidates. I just think overall there are too many people running. It is like a reality show. It’s like “America’s Next Top President.” Why don’t we just let Tyra decide? But then again she’d run into the same problem as Oprah. I hate that people are saying that Oprah is some kind of gender traitor because she is backing Obama. Don’t even talk about Oprah unless you want to fight. I got a brick in my purse so watch it (remember ladies – something heavy inside something light = weapon). I think it is wonderful that Oprah is getting involved in politics. It is brave and exciting and gives me lots of hope for the future.
I think that is what I love about Obama – he represents hope. I would not be voting for him just because I am a person of color. Race has so little to do with it! He is all about change – a new beginning. His youthful optimism appeals to me and his hope for the future enthralls me and these issues transcend race completely. I would be voting for Hillary because she has already been president for 8 years and did an awesome job. So my choice really for the next President is going to be very well thought out; I am between Barack and a familiar face.
Guess what America! People of color and women think! Just like white men! For reals!!!
She be doing nothing but Laundry
Thursday, January 24th, 2008I got some excellent fan mail over the weekend:
“you need to get her to be more fan based oriented like actually talking to us and doing auto graphs she ignored us and ran off stage after wouldn’t talk to any one or do pictures and auto graphs…with out her fans she be doing nothing but laundry right now.”
And then I saw this youtube video of Hillary getting heckled by a guy screaming “Iron my shirt!!!”
That’s a weird way to try to bring down women. Threaten them with laundry! Why is laundry an insult? Laundry is cool! Especially if you have your own washer and dryer. It is not as exciting if you don’t but then you get to go to the bank and get quarters. I like having rolls of quarters around because then you can put them in a pillowcase and be ready to fight! You can really fuck shit up at the Laundromat if you have to – “THAT’S MY DRYER BITCH!!!”
Even though I have my own washer and dryer now, cuz I am classy like that, nobody at my house allows me to do my own laundry because I don’t understand the color situation. I am all about the laundry being integrated and I don’t think that the whites should have their own load because it isn’t fair to all the colors. So I mix the whites and the colors and then everything comes out kind of pink/grey. That is what I get for inclusion. I realize that the laundry is not the place to work out your segregation issues.
Anyway, Hillary and I are not doing laundry anytime soon so you better do your own.
They are all Precious
Wednesday, January 23rd, 2008I am still boiling mad about the terrible tragedy of Megan Meier. She is the young teenage girl who committed suicide after being bullied online by her friend’s MOM. I think it is horrible and I hope that there will be some sort of justice played out here. Even if there is no case brought against the perpetrators, I truly believe in the power of karma and that what you do comes back to you tenfold. I am so mad I can barely write.
This makes me furious because it brings me right back to my own childhood traumas. When I was about 13 – possibly the worst age ever for everyone, especially me – my parents had a falling out with the parents of the girls I believed to be my closest friends, who we will call E and G. E and G’s mom encouraged them not only to stop being my friend, but also to make sure that my life was a living hell. This included a fairly successful campaign of turning all of my church youth group against me, filling my sleeping bag at summer camp with twigs and leaves and dog shit, throwing tanbark at my eyes, and countless other kid crimes and misdemeanors that haven’t healed over time. The pain has just gone underground and now rises up whenever I don’t get a part I really want or a gig goes bad or I read something mean about myself in a magazine.
It was sad because I really loved those girls. We bought our first designer jeans together ($10 at Kmart! Dark rinse! Stretch! Bottoms rolled up because they were miles long! Imagine!), we listened nonstop to Michael Jackson and Shaun Cassidy and Chicago and watched Jodie Foster in “The little girl who lives down the lane.” We laughed and screamed and cried together and I loved them, and when one day, they weren’t my friends anymore, I questioned my thirteen year old sanity. My whole world turned upside-down and I felt so ugly and awful and hated, I didn’t know what to do.
I feel so sad for the little girl I once was and it makes me want to make sure that whenever I see young girls, however big or small or obnoxious or uncute they are, I give them a kind smile and a silent blessing that they are happy inside and grow up good. Children are terrible to each other, but what made this situation worse was that even though E and G happily carried out the plan to ruin my life like weirdly short henchmen or unflying monkeys, it was all because their mother wanted some kind of dumb revenge on my mother. I just don’t know what kind of parents would do such a thing. I think that if you are an adult that all children are your responsibility - whether they are yours are not – whether you like them or not – whether you like their parents or not! Children belong to the world and we should be kind to them all, and care for them all, like they are all precious. They are the most precious thing of all because they are the future.
Leave Britney Alone
Saturday, January 19th, 2008I just saw a picture online of Britney’s period stain and I am horrified. I don’t know why they would post a picture of that and I really feel terrible about it. I think that the paparazzi have gone too far. It is just tasteless and barbaric. I am so sorry for Britney and I hope she ok. The only thing I can think of doing to somehow make it better is to say that this has happened to me about a million times.
I am the worst when it comes to period stains. That is why I never move because my mattress is so so so so stained that whenever I change the sheets it just looks like a murder scene. I’m serious. Somebody should put crime scene ‘do not cross’ tape up. It’s awful! I can’t understand any woman who hasn’t had some kind of hot menses mess. Those women are weird and probably perfect, and always get a pap smear every six months, and have never had a weight problem or worried about sitting on a white couch – and they are no friends of mine!
Every month my body completely purges everything it has been holding onto. My periods are heavy, long, arduous – old furniture and books and records come out. Gold coins and anchors and treasures and lace and shoes. It’s like a big clearance sale. Everything must go! That is just the way that I am built. I am just puzzled at the idea of a pantyliner or a regular tampon. I need to stuff half an emergency room in there every 28 days or I am looking at dying everything I own black (here’s a hot tip – if you stain something with your own blood, spit on the stain – your saliva has enzymes that will break it down…unfortunately it has to be your blood and your saliva – you can’t do it for anyone else). When my Aunt Flow comes to visit – the bitch brings presents. All the feminine products I use have “overnight” on the box.
The point here is let she who is without menstrual stains throw the first tampon. Britney is not “Carrie” and Chris Crocker was right – leave her alone!
Self Defense
Thursday, August 17th, 2006I was driving on the 80 east, just after another wondrous day at an incredible dance workshop. The whole day was spent sweating it out with all these gorgeous women, feeling powerful and beautiful and incredibly alive, so I probably wasn’t as aware of my surroundings as I should have been, but I was in my car, driving down a crowded freeway at 4 in the afternoon, so I felt relatively safe. It is incredible how quickly the illusion of safety can fade. It reminds me that we are never truly safe anywhere, not ever.
Suddenly, a small, navy blue car pulled directly behind mine. It was way too close for comfort, but I didn’t move out of my lane because of the heavy traffic. I could have, but I also didn’t want to. My gut instinct was to move out of the way, that there was something wrong with the situation, but I was tired from dancing and after a whole day of honoring the goddess within me I wasn’t about to be intimidated by some guy who wanted me to get out of his lane.
Initially, it wasn’t clear to me that the other driver was doing anything too out of the ordinary. There were lots of cars in close proximity, and just because his car was in very, very, very close proximity, it didn’t seem that threatening at first. He just seemed like an alpha male asshole. It didn’t seem weird until he started to hit my car. He was lightly, ever so gently (?!), hitting the back of my car with his. I wouldn’t have known it if I hadn’t been watching him, because it was causing my car to push ever so slightly forward with each bump, an almost imperceptible extra movement. I looked at him in my rear view mirror, and he was smiling, laughing, that mean male smile that is all too familiar to all women who have been victim to male aggression. I tried going faster, but I now couldn’t move over because of the jammed traffic on the lanes on both sides. There was a little room in front of me, so I stepped on the gas, and he accelerated with me, happily hitting the back of my car as we sped along, now at almost 30 mph. This dangerous game had to end, and with one hand I searched for my cell phone in my purse, as my eyes darted around to the other drivers around me, oblivious to this insane yet somewhat subtle form of vehicular assault happening right in front of them. I tried to speed faster, just so that I could get a look at his license plate, but he was so close I couldn’t see the bottom of his car in the rear view mirror. I got a couple of glimpses of it, but I was so freaked out I couldn’t focus and get the numbers and letters straight in my head besides the fact that they were reversed in the mirror. I couldn’t even identify the make and model of the car. I grabbed my phone out of the dark, cluttered recesses of my purse, and was about to dial 911 when the traffic cleared away in front of me, and I drove like hell to get away from him. His car lurched forward and stalled, and smoke billowed out of the hood. He got out and ran across the lanes of moving vehicles, angry motorists honking in vain behind him. I was almost laughing as I watched the threatening car disappear behind me in a haze of honking cars and smoke and freeway and relief.
When I got out of the car to survey the damage, there weren’t any visible marks, but it did leave a lasting impression on me that the world is not a safe place, and my level of awareness is not where it should be when it comes to personal security. I need to start watching where I am going and what I am doing, being much more careful and listening to my intuition. I should have moved out of his way at the beginning, but I was a little cocky from class, and I didn’t wish to appear ‘weak.’ I need to be able to mentally photograph license plate numbers, even reversed in the rear view mirror. This is the second time my nerves have gotten the best of me when trying to do this. I was a victim of a hit and run accident when another car swerved into me and then quickly weaved its way out of the terrible traffic we were both trapped in. I had several seconds to look at the license plate, both backwards and forwards, from close and far away, but I was so flustered I couldn’t remember what they were. I am going to practice just looking at license plates and remembering them. I need to take self defense classes, along with all my dance classes, so that I can continue dancing for a long, long time. Being careful doesn’t mean we are weak, it means we are smart and realistic about the world we live in. I take lots of precautions when I travel to other countries and yet for some reason I constantly forget that I live in one of the most dangerous places in the world. Let’s protect each other. Please send me your safety tips, and your stories and I will post them so that we can share our wisdom.