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April, 2017
Archive

  • The Fragile Male Ego

    I don’t think it takes a rocket scientist, a brain surgeon, or even someone who knows how to toast a waffle to recognize the ego battle between US President Donald Tr… excuse me I just gagged a little… Donald Trump and North Korean Prime Minster Kim Jong-Un. So much of our current foreign policy seems to be a theatric display of men playing Star Wars, using their dicks as lightsabers, and the world as their playground for destruction. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not ready to die because of the massive ego of a small-handed man. Even though the Trump regime is trying to make us fear North Korea, the real person to fear is Trump, his volatile personality, and irrational taunting. In truth, the world is and should be much more afraid of America than we should be afraid of the rest of the world, because so far, we’re the only one’s who have ever dropped nuclear weapons. SAD!

    The US has been at war for 224 years since the “birth” of the country in 1776.That means we’ve only been a peaceful nation for 17 years? How is this okay? Where wars waged mostly by men are the ruling influence on the planet? Yes of course there is profit to war. Yes there are resources to exploit. Yes there are colonies to be made. Yes there is this constant pursuit of power – but WHY? Why is this a world of competition not cooperation? Isn’t it so dreadfully clear that this psychology is vastly destructive? Even though women are a part of the military and a part of the political system, it is clear that the majority of our war mongering history has been initiated by men. What is the root behind all the violence?

    Is Donald Trump’s ego the ultimate manifestation of the male ego that’s been in power for the last couple of millennia?

    The fragile male ego is perhaps the most elusive force on the planet. It has a mysterious power unbeknownst to even the most learned astrophysicist. More prevalent than dark matter, and beholds a powerful vacuum that rivals the black hole in the center of our galaxy. It has taken over the planet, and all of humanity bows to its glory. The male ego is the driving force of our economic system, political system, and even the solar system.

    That isn’t to say that ladies don’t have egos. Ohhhhh we do. Of course we do. But the lady ego is not in power. If the lady ego were the standard, we would be competing about who has the most beautiful gardens/national parks, which army’s outfits fit the best, and who hosted the most delicious country-wide bake sale. Maybe there would be some disagreements regarding who is the most popular dictator, but we would deal with that by gossiping behind each other’s backs… NOT BLOWING PEOPLE UP WITH NUCLEAR MISSILES!!!!!!!!!

    Come to think of it, would the lady ego have even developed the nuclear bomb? I THINK NOT! Perhaps a cosmic clam but it would simply be cozy place to store our enemies while we taunted them by offering cookies with BOTH gluten and sugar. “Here you go. Have a delicious cookie. Just remember, a moment on the lips, a lifetime on your hips you lady terrorist who terrorized me by hiding my tampons on day 2 of my period! All I had was toilet paper. It was a mess!”

    That is a world run by the lady ego. Is that reductive? YES! Of course but only because it’s impossible to imagine how ladies would run the world without male influence. Every element of society has been influenced by the male identity, and women have just learned to squeeze ourselves in, not revolutionize it.

    But the male ego, the fragile male ego. Holy shit. They make bombs that look like their dicks that dick over an entire nation in a matter of seconds by coming too fast and all over their metaphoric face. It’s a lot. It’s a lot to take in.

    Yet, I am an equal opportunity genital person. I don’t want to attack men all willy-nilly. It’s important that I display empathy and compassion. I would like to get to the root chakra of this conundrum of why the male ego is more fragile than a Faberge Egg?

    Is it because of his highly sensitive exposed scrotum? Just flopping in the wind, bouncing around as he walks. Does the extremely delicate balls sack motivate a deep fear in men, because they have to spend so much mental energy protecting them? Is there an angst I can’t understand because my genitals are all tucked in a like a suitcase, durable, and prepared for a journey? Yet all it would take for me to destroy a man is access to his balls. I could take them, turn them around in my hands like those metal Chinese Baoding balls for a while, and then, when the moment was right, squeeze the shit out of one until POP! Is that the problem? Is the tenuous sate of a man’s unprotected testes why we have nuclear war?

    Perhaps the boner is the main source of the male ego. I can imagine a boner is a very stressful thing. Again, a difficulty we women don’t have. I have never experienced performance anxiety about my boner. Of course a woman can be dry when she is not turned on, yet both parties can pretend that’s not happening with some spit, lube, coconut oil, of course the slime collected in packaged meat. There is an easy fix for the lack of lady boners. But when a man can’t get a boner, there is not much one can do about it except look at his flaccid penis and say, “it’s okay little guy. Better luck next time.”

    Maybe I’m wrong. I’m open to being wrong. But then you tell me why! Why is the male ego so goddamn fragile that he will rape, pillage, and bomb the shit out of countries just to prove its existence? Aren’t there other ways to make money and feel powerful? Like say, create an app, or start a podcast.

    April 20, 2017 • Current Events, emotions, Political Banter, Sex Stuff, Vagina Stuff • Views: 1494

  • My Soul Has Blue Balls

    Hi. I’m Toni. And my soul has blue balls.

    Not because my life is bad. My life is fine. I just want more out of all of it. A lot of energy is spent picking apart the pieces of my life and wanting more – a mixture between chasing feelings and running from them in an endless marathon of avoidance. I don’t care if my glass is half empty or half full; I just want to know if it’s big enough for me to bathe in? Yet within this context of swirling around in an existential shame spiral of my own making, I turn my attention to world events, and the nightmare of modern times. I’m overcome with massive guilt around caring so deeply about my own life, when so much of the world is suffering. I wake up in the morning happy to be alive, then the overall malaise and general dissatisfaction sweeps over me. I think about myself, wondering if it’s possible to feel truly satisfied with my career, but then realize Donald Trump is still President – and a deep panic sets in. But then I remember how stress will give me wrinkles, so I turn my attention back to thinking about me, and wondering if the world will ever truly appreciate my anti-feminist feminist post-modern modern world view?

    I make it to my kitchen to prepare for the day and listen to Noam Chomsky on “Democracy Now” talk about how we are at the brink of nuclear war. I think to myself “You need do something about this Toni! Noam is not dumb, or alarmist. He must be right!” But then the show is over, and I’ve eaten my breakfast, so I go back to thinking about me. My brain trails to the very important question of, “is it really crucial to change your underwear daily?”

    I then get into my car to drive my kid to school and listen to the “Radiolab Podcast” discuss how at any moment, Trump could start a nuclear war. There is truly no one to stop him. Horrified, and in disbelief, I think to myself, “Jesus Christ Toni, this is a big fucking deal! What are you gonna do about it?” But then the show ends, and a sweet folk singer comes on the radio singing about grinning at her reflection in a spoon. So I go back to thinking about me again – and how I haven’t been to the dentist since 2003 and should smile less in public.

    I then go home and work on my computer. I spend an hour composing the perfect equal opportunity genital joke, and then check Facebook for a break. I see a post that reads, “How long did it take Trump to put the Threat of nuclear annihilation back on the table? Less then four months?” I start to sweat profusely, and ask myself, “Toni, are you seriously going to live your life as a passive bystander with the possibility of nuclear missals being launched into the sky?” but that makes me think of a funny dick joke, so I go back to that.

    You guys!! I can’t stop thinking about myself even though the world might be coming to an end! Am I the only one? Can we have a support group for people who care enough to have major anxiety about world events, but still enjoy fixating on their own meager existence? It’s so hard to be simmultaniously self-obsessed and world-obsessed. It’s like every time I’m about to metaphorically cum thinking about my own life, awareness seeps in reminding me that my individual concerns are insignificant compared to the bigger picture. I feel so alone. Hold me.

    Here I am… in the snow… wearing a T-shirt… thinking about me, despite global warming.

    April 12, 2017 • ambitions, Current Events, emotions, Musings, Political Banter, problems • Views: 1151

  • Lessons From A Love Triangle

    Women tell each other everything. Donald Trump’s locker room doesn’t have shit compared to the average relationship between two women. If you’re in a relationship with a women, you can bet your sweet ass that every single one of her close friends could pick out your dick in a police line up it’s been described to her in such precise detail. Her friends know if you’re munching on muff, and that you like taint tickled in the morning. I highly suggest you never look those ladies in the eyes again.

    Women tend to have incredibly personal, intimate relationships with each other. They’re comfortable sharing their feelings, admitting vulnerabilities, and discussing the minutia of their lives. I’ve no joke had a friend send me a pic of her puss once, asking if a mysterious bump looked normal. Female friendships often border on therapy sessions, and definitely tow the doctor patient confidentiality line considering how much we reveal to each other.

    Men however, are mostly more reserved in their relationships with other men. Where women tend to talk about themselves in their conversations, men talk more about subjects. If you were a fly on the wall listening to a bunch of chicks chatting, chances are you would here a lot about love, relationships, family, and other more personal themes. And definitely a lot about periods. Yet a gaggle of guys would discuss more abstract subjects – sports, cars, politics, current events, etc… It’s not because men don’t care about their personal lives, or women are uninterested in social issues, this is more a reflection of different cultures of communication. I’ve had many deep philosophical inquiries about societal matters with my lady friends, but those talks are not as common. Just as I am sure there are moments where a dude will open up to a friend about some problem he’s having, but that’s also a more rare occurrence.

    Because of this, most hetero men don’t get into deep personal confessions with each other, and only have women to expose themselves to. This creates a dynamic where women see the weakest part of a man, and are the only ones he will reveal that part of himself to. The role of women is then defined by picking up the emotional fragments of not only each other, but also the men in their lives. Their romantic connection becomes burdened by the reality that she’s the only person he ever opens up to. He doesn’t turn to others to get advice about their relationship, or learn how to better behave – and only has her to process his feelings with. That’s a lot to ask, especially because you then expect her to blow you like a Nintendo cartridge circa 1989.

    I think this way of being is doing a major disservice to all genders! We need to shake shit up!

    Wouldn’t we all be happier if these ratios changed around a bit? Although I am genuinely interested in the relationship plights of my friends, I think women need more opportunities to talk out some of their shit out with dudes. We need more cross gender friendships, and for men to take on emotionally driven conversations. That way my girl can get some insider trading information about the male species – and I can get a break from hearing about how Carl is a douche nozzle so she and I can spend our energy discussing the Federal Reserve instead.

    I also think male relationships would benefit if they relied on each other more emotionally. It’s said the men are some of the loneliest people because they lack genuine feelings of closeness to others. Masculinity doesn’t encourage revealing the underbelly of your emotional self, and hiding that part of you can make you feel isolated and alienated. We need to teach our men and boys to gossip like the girls of the WB.

    Girls are conditioned from a young age to know how to deal with issues around relationships, and intimacy. Most media targeted to girls have subplots of love. Almost every cartoon The Munch watches has talk of boyfriends, or the characters having crushes. This pony likes that pony and wants to marry him, or this monster thinks that monster is a cutie-pie (despite the fact his body is covered in scales). Young boys, however, don’t often talk about these things with each other, and media they consume isn’t pushing these concepts down their throats. There is no ménage à trois in Transformers. Because girls are exposed to relationship drama, they start to develop an understanding of the importance around it, where with boys they lack the language to start the conversation because it’s not in their lexicon.

    I was playing with Munch the other day and I couldn’t believe her emotional intelligence when it comes to matters of the heart. She’s like the ultimate wing woman. As can be seen in the below drama that was created with the Little Mermaid dolls.

    Munch: Okay Mama. You will be human Ariel, and I will be mermaid Ariel.
    Toni: But aren’t they the same person, just different time periods?
    Munch: Ummm they are just different people now.
    Toni: But both named Ariel?
    Munch: Right. Human Ariel and Mermaid Ariel.
    Toni: Got it.
    Munch: And Human Ariel is in love with Eric. You act Eric too. But you have to make them really in love, and I better believe it.

    BETTER BELIEVE IT! Okay… so my plan was to fuck with Munch a bit, and let her know what it’s actually like when your friend is in love.

    Munch: Hey Human Ariel, you wanna play?
    Toni: No I can’t. I’m in love with Eric, so I just want to spend time with him. I don’t really have time for you right now.
    Munch: Oh. That’s okay. I totally understand.

    WHAT??? That was her reaction?? To totally understand!!?

    Munch: Hey Human Ariel, I made this new friend, her name is Barbie. Do you want to meet her?
    Toni: No Mermaid Ariel. Like I said, I’m in love with Eric so I really don’t have time for you right now, or meeting new friends. I just want to spend time with him.
    Munch. That’s okay. That happens when you’re in love. Just let me know when you’re done and ready to play.

    I WAS LIKE HOLY SHIT! THIS KID REALLY KNOWS HOW TO BE A GOOD FRIEND.

    Toni: Okay Mermaid Ariel. I’m bored of Eric now. I’ll meet your friend.
    Munch: Hi. I’m Barbie. Sometimes I get bored of Ken too. It happens. Shall we go an adventure?

    Okay… it’s official that Munch is ready to be an awesome friend when she grows up.

    April 5, 2017 • emotions, Musings, Relationships, Sex Stuff, Vagina Stuff • Views: 1183