20 Things You Can Do If You’re A White Person, INSTEAD OF Calling the Police on a Black Person

1.    Ask yourself: “Am I in danger, or just fucking racist?”

2.    Enjoy a vanilla latte from Starbucks.  You can even use the bathroom first if you want. If there’s a black person also using the bathroom, the answer is no, don’t call the police.

3.    Call your poor white neighbors and ask them if they regret their Trump votes yet.

4.    Go find a job.  That black person might even hire you if you’re qualified. But please don’t apply to be a police officer.  You seem interested in that line of work, but the rest of us actually deserve better.

5.    Stick your thumb up your ass and see if you can make a little extra room.

6.    Read your first book about racial segregation, or housing discrimination, or lynching, or incarceration rates, or colonialism.  Or slavery, which WAS a choice.  Only white people's though.

7.    Stop and smell the roses, which an immigrant probably planted while making America great.  

8.     Look up some funny vines, if the librarian allows it. 

9.    Watch one of the 3 Thor movies, and reminisce about the good old days when Marvel movies had only white pretend gods.  

10.   Sign up to join Our Revolution. They definitely have a spot for you on their team.

11.  Or just yell LOCK HER UP really loud over and over, which is another crazy-ass white person thing to do, that also has nothing to do with reality. 

12.  Buy a cookbook and learn how to make potato salad.

13.  Sit down next to a confederate statue and masturbate.  Alone.  It’s what incels do best.

14.  Download some Kanye music.  He’s alright. Wink.

15.  Check twitter.

16.  Click your heels together 3 times, and when you get back to Kansas, stay there forever.

17.  Try opioids. They’re probably not addictive. 

18.  Smile and say hello.  Who knows, you just might end up with a black friend!

19.  Pause and query, what would Black Jesus do?

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20.  Mind your own goddamn business.

Sonnets to 44 and 45, From a Forlorn Hillary Fan

44
If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,
O'er sea and land I'd muse myself to thee;
To what District (or state) you've gone to plot,
Next steps, under your own vine and fig tree.
I'd come with many long-brewing questions:
'Bout the DNC, and whither dad jeans,
How to suppress the voter suppression,
Will Michelle keep sowing her mustard greens,
Why doesn't common sense gun control pass,
Isn't Paul Ryan the world's biggest jerk,
Why didn't you hand James Comey his ass,
And thank you, forty-four, for your calm work,
    But also, sir, I would drop this knowledge:
    I'm so done with that electoral college.


45
Speaking of plots and of rising despots,
The dank odor of your every decree;
Though it means nothing to you, sans-culottes
Are words which most richly relate to thee.
For your beastly behavior, boasts of walls,
For your farcical feigning of greatness,
And cronies who jaw confederate drawls,
I cling to hope for poetic justice,
As a famous bard hath once recounted,
Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall,
You won -- yea, sheltered by your accountant,
But gilded secrets may just end it all.
     Until then, the fair sex wants you to know,
     You'll never be cool like Justin Trudeau.

If Trump has great words, we need better ones.

ENOUGH WITH THE KISSING.   

I don't mean enough talking about it, or reporting on it.   First lady Michelle Obama spoke for ALL the single and married ladies yesterday when she basically told America that HE WHO SHE WOULD NOT NAME was making her physically sick.  But even as she explained how sick she felt about it, Michelle the FOB (Friend of Beyonce) reinforced why it IS important to keep talking about it.  We all MUST keep truthing it.    Like Don the Good Lemon said last night to one of the Trumpster fires who was on his show trying to argue that the Putin-leaked Podesta risotto story was a more important election topic than HIS sexual assault rap sheet, NO.  It's an important national conversation, which we all need to have.  Shut up, cut to commercial.  

When I say ENOUGH with the kissing, I mean the words.   Kissing is a familiar word.  It is a conveniently descriptive word.   It is also HIS word, as in I CAN'T STOP KISSING THEM LIKE A MAGNET or whatever the fuck.   But when used to ACTUALLY describe what HE does to women -- women who are unlucky enough to work for him, sit near him on a plane, or be naked teenagers changing clothes in a dressing room that he stomps into -- it is a WOEFULLY insufficient word.  

You’re reading this and you’re like oh the feminist discourse chix.  UR SO BRAINY AND BORING, SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR.  Always on about the words we use and how they influence culture!  What does it matter?   WE ALL KNOW WHAT WE MEAN.    Imma tell you what.  And you better gird your lady loins, because I’m done with this rapey clown.  In fact, I was done last January, on this very blog.   Words matter.  

When a man forces his RAPE DICK into a woman's body, we don’t call it lovemaking.   OK, lovemaking is a goofy word that I don’t actually even use, because in a lot of real ways, I’m more like an unromantic dude than a romantic gurl.  (I also hate cuddling.  Just roll over and grab me a beer).   But fine, forget that word: Rape is ALSO not even called SEX.   For good reason.  If a woman is raped, the reason we don’t say THEY HAD SEX is that sounds consensual.  It sounds almost fun.    It sounds like you just had a nice roll and now you have beer.

Making the love and making the sex is what I think about when I have a glass of wine and my hubby's hair is a little bit messy, or his work shirt is one button open, or his smile is relaxed and lopsided when he looks at me.   Sex is what I might have later -- if the kids ever go to bed, and I haven’t had too much wine, and I am not already asleep on the couch -- because I love him and want to do extra closeup zoomed in bonding.  

Kissing – actual kissing – is soooo fun.  Whenever I fantasize about hooking up with Don Cheadle, we do SO MUCH kissing.  We do some interspersed talking about smart topics, during which we laugh and laugh and appreciate each other's fine wit.  And maybe if I'm into it, we get around to some sexing.  But still, no cuddling.   And mostly, it's kissing.  Because his mouth is nice, and his eyes are sweet pools of the smart man love.   (Also, if my husband is reading this, I never actually fantasize about hooking up with Don Cheadle.    That’s a hypothetical designed to confuse Texas Congressman Blake Farenthold. Carry on.)  

Actual kissing, IRL, is softness, sweetness, and sometimes in the right moment, super sexy mouthiness.
It's what little girls see in Disney movies, all their damn childhoods, when happiness wins and dreams come true.  

   

Actual kissing is nothing like what happened to me at the age of 14, at a Loverboy concert in Wisconsin, when some grown-ass man with a wannabe bandana around his sweaty head stuck his giant tongue into my mouth because I was there.  It felt like I was being choked with a pork tenderloin.   Actual kissing is nothing like what happened to me at 16, at a friend's house, when her 35-year old uncle forcibly opened my mouth with his mouth.   He had big teeth and a Tom Selleck mustache.  It felt like I was being choked with a brillo pad. This is why most women hate the dentist, by the way.  

When HE WHO MICHELLE OBAMA WILL NOT NAME bragged about kissing women, he wasn’t bragging about doing anything that ACTUAL WOMEN or HUMAN PEOPLE actually like about and/or associate with kissing.  He was NOT sexy.  He was NOT soft.  He was HELLA NOT sweet.  He was the opposite of my secret kissing friend, Don Cheadle.  

It was more like mouth rape.  Or mouth assault.  Call it FACE ASSAULT.  IDFC what we call it.  If the news reported that he FORCED HIS MOUTH OVER THEIR MOUTHS, or FORCED HIS TONGUE INTO THEIR MOUTHS that would sound like a lot of words.  But it would be more accurate than HE KISSED THEM.  And also, they have 24 hours of news coverage to get done.  They need extra words, anyway.  

PS, the same goes for hugging, by the way.  GIVE HIM A HUG, HONEY?  Isn't that what the bus turds said, to the woman who was sent to fetch them?    I think what you mean is move your body over here so we can inappropriately grope you.  Gross.  

Words matter.  Can we use better ones?

True Confessions: I am Hillary Clinton's Body Double

Heath Satow productions.

If you’re a regular visitor to this blog, you might have noticed it’s been pretty quiet lately. That’s because I was busy doing other things. Like, gardening. Along with the lesbiyeomans who Rush-the-painkillers Limbaugh says are taking over America with their folk music and rescue dogs, I significantly advanced the manocide this summer by growing SLAYONCE´ sized vegetables in neat rows of animal poo in my community garden. Community sounds like Lesbian and GUESS WHO runs that mother? This little red hen do.  None of my otherwise hangry family members ever offers to help. Whenever I ask, they’re like “weeding sux” or “it’s hot” or “the kale has bugs on it.” They go swimming and leave me covered head to toe in manure. Then all of a sudden it’s September, and my radical farmgenda has already been realized WITHOUT THEM. But that's cool. In the span of just a few short months -- while the bloviarchical man-fringe in this country has gone from #feelingtheBern to #feelingtheirJohnsons -- my pie pumpkins have taken the shit over. The. Entire. Plot. Fresh pies WILL be happening this autumn, haters, and not even Julian Leakocracy Assange will be able to steal them and give them to Donald Trump.

The other thing I did this summer was work as Hillary Clinton’s body double. NBD but SHHHHHHH, nobody tell Teresa Barnwell. Poor Teresa usually gets the job, and keeps the online trollway moving at a good clip by fessing up to her crooked impersonations of Clinton at F-list parties. She wanted this gig, too, OBVI. She wanted it baaaaaad, like those JillyBeans who want to believe that polio and measles are fake words made up by Barack Obama to trick them into buying his health insurance. But GUESS WHAT else? It was not #crookedTeresa who walked out of #crookedChelsea’s apartment (which you might notice isn’t even IN Chelsea, HA! GOTCHA!) and pretended to walk by herself and spontaneously hug "a little girl" while the REAL Hillary Sicklinton, who nonstop coughs, and can’t take a step without her SecretStepService, and in some pictures has crazy eyes like NOBODY else in a candid photo ever, was inside getting IV fluids from her newborn grandson who is actually the resurrected Vince Foster.

In fact, the jig was up almost as soon as the #HillarysBodyDouble hashtag was a thing, because Snopes got on the blower and started telling everyone that #crookedTeresa was in Los Angeles, inexplicably lip synching with two dudes who appear to have been equally bad Bill Clinton and Pharrell impersonators. Thanks, Snopes. But don’t take Snopes word for it. He's a dick. I know the truth about the body double scandal because IT WAS ME. And I have evidence.

First, anyone who knows me IRL knows that I got a super short haircut this spring. It was so much shorter and more lady-trying-to-be-presidential-looking that not one but TWO children, without prompting, who were at playdates at my house but not with me, told me I “looked like Hillary Clinton.” Or maybe they said I “looked like I was trying to look like Hillary Clinton.” Their exact message didn’t matter. Remember that Hasian guy (that’s a hot Asian, not a hungry Asian, fyi) who called Hillary a whore at a Bernie rally and then said he didn’t mean it because his wife threatened to run off with Don Lemon? Same same. The damage was already done. They nailed it. I WAS trying to look exactly like Hillz, because I had already accepted a job impersonating her for the general campaign, which Robby Mook lined up because he knew Hillary would have to pretend to stand and talk and stuff.

I couldn't even deny it because kids KNOW shit. They are just like the twitter bros who spend their days searching #imwithHer hashtags so they can send you a #penisticle of reasons why you’re a dumb bitch. Sidebar: Someone just tweeted that exact message to me yesterday. I got upset for a microsecond until my friend Heath quick researched the guy and found out his THREE OTHER TWEETS were requests for gamer codes. I blocked him and told him to crawl back into his basket. I WIN TWITTER AGAIN!

Look, I hate to feed more rumors into the mediatastrophe that’s happening this election cycle, and will probably happen forever until Commerce Secretary Ailes replaces the free press with our new national station, TrumpTV, which never talks about fake scandals because it only reports on Trumpian national treasures like WallBuilding and MuslimBanning and SpeechStealing.  I am well aware that half the DAFUQtorate in America is already worked up into a tizzy about #whichlivesmattermost and #whosinmybathroom and the infringement of the legal rights of VarsitySock Brock Turner by BitchesWhoWantToControlTheirOwnTheirVaginas.  puhleeze.  And no joke -- it’s dangerous to publicly admit that I was hired to play Hillary Sicklinton’s body double, and fly around the country in a padded pantsuit, trying to get myself purposely interrupted by Matt LowerTheBar Lauer so I don’t have to say anything #fauxserious about the Supreme Court or mental health or military vets.

DAYAM, readers, I live in Wisconsin! I am literally surrounded by mentally ill paranoid gunthusiasts on one side, who think taco trucks are WAYWORSE than Vladimir Pootin, and Bernlatics on the other, who think a powerful woman president who has talked about human rights for years ALL OVER the globe will probably do terrible things to human rights so we should throw our votes into the toilet of an anti-science pothead who can’t find Aleppo on Mike Barnicle’s face, or the #womancandidateBrosLike who thinks it was great when Cubans lost weight because they had to eat zoo animals. Yummmmmm, low cholesterol.

But yeah. I'm coming clean.  The Deplorables have good theories.  Hillary Clinton is definitely chronically ill, and I am her body double which talked to a kid on the sidewalk for her, because her wobbly standing problems make FDR look like Usain Bolt by comparison. Other stuff: The DNC is totally going to replace her with Bernie because #rigged. And any day now, Trump will release his health records, his tax records, and explain to the mental satisfaction of his MAD AS HELL wypipo supporters why his European models didn’t need regular visas but Mexicans do. It’s gonna be the biggest basket of truth you’ve ever seen. It's gonna be a Fucking Cornucopia. Believe me.

Guess the Emojis, Election Edition!

My kids play at app called Guess the Emoji, where emojis are strung together as clues for popular words or phrases.
Same concept here.
But more political.
And since I'm not an illustrator, you'll have to pretend the words are pictures.
Good luck!

1.        HAIRPIECE + TOILET + MOUTH

            Answer: Donald Trump

2.        HAMMER AND SICKLE + OLD CAR + MAD RED FACE

            Answer: Bernie Sanders

3.        PANTSUIT + WOMEN’S BATHROOM SIGN + RORSCHACH INK BLOT

            Answer: Hillary Clinton

4.        MOUNTIE + BALD EAGLE + LIGHTNING BOLT + OPENING SKY

            Answer: Ted Cruz

5.        TROPICAL ISLAND + BABY DOLPHIN + RUNNING MAN + EXIT SIGN

            Answer: Marco Rubio

6.        HAMBURGER + MOUNTIE + ZUCCHINI+ HAND + PEACH + PANTSUIT

            Answer: Chris Christie and Ted Cruz vowing to spank Hillary Clinton

7.        JUSTICE SCALES + DRONE+ BIBLE + PANTSUIT + JAILHOUSE

            Answer: Ted Cruz talking points

8.        BOXING GLOVES + HEARTS + WHITE WOMAN FACE +  BROWN MAN FACE  + EARS

            Answer: Hillary Clinton talking points

9.        DOLLAR SIGN + PIG SNOUT + BANK + FLAMES + FLYING PUPPY DOG

            Answer: Bernie Sanders’ platform

10.      SEE NO EVIL MONKEY + SALUTING WHITE HAND + WALL + TICKING TIME BOMB

            Answer: Trump rally

11.      MAN + WOMAN + BABY + BIBLE + FOOT + U.S. CONSTITUTION

            Answer: Evangelicals for Cruz

12.      HAMBURGER + HAIRPIECE + HAND + PEACH

            Answer: Trump spanking former candidate Chris Christie

 13.      BEARDED WHITE MAN FACE + ZUCCHINI + PS4 + SNOWBOARD

            Answer: Bernie Bro

14.      BIRD + FOX + TOILET + MOUTH + ZUCCHINI +FLAMENCO DANCER

            Answer: Donald Trump tweet calling Megyn Kelly a bimbo

15.      WOMEN’S BATHROOM SIGN + BUTCHER KNIFE + ZUCCHINI + FLAMENCO DANCER + FOOT + STEAMING SHIT PILE

            Answer: Gloria Steinem dissing female Sanders supporters

16.      WHITE FACE + PRIUS + STARBUCKS CUP + DUFFLE BAG + UP    ARROW

            Answer: Left wing threats to move to Canada

17.      MAD RED FACE + ZUCCHINI + NUMBER 538 + CLOTHES HANGER + BACK     ALLEY

            Answer: Two good reasons the Bros need to get over themselves

18.      ELEPHANT + FOX + DEVIL HORNS + ORANGE BABY FACE

            Answer: Trump as demonic offspring of GOP and FOX News      

19.      OLD CAR + FAT BLUNT  + FLYING PUPPY DOG

            Answer: Millennials driving to Burning Man and/or Sanders rally

20.     ELEPHANT + PARTY HAT + SCISSORS + BOOKS + SCHOOLTEACHER

            Answer: GOP education budget

21.      HAIRPIECE + KITCHEN + SOMBRERO + SPITTING MOUTH + BOWL OF FOOD

            Answer: Latino line cook at Trump fundraiser

22.     BROWN MAN FACE + CRESCENT MOON + TAXI  + SALUTING WHITE HAND

            Answer: Muslim cab driver driving past a Trump supporter

23.     ZUCCHINI + RORSCHACH INK BLOT + FLYING PUPPY DOG

            Answer: Sanders supporters who’d totally vote for Elizabeth Warren

24.     DARK GLASSES + BASEBALL BAT + BABY SEAL + CHAMPAGNE +  BIRD +  HAMMER AND SICKLE + ZUCCHINI + PANTSUIT

            Answer: Vast right wing conspiracy, retweeted by Bros

25.     EARTH + FLAMES + ZUCCHINI + POLAR BEAR + TICKING TIME BOMB

            Climate change