Posts tagged bitch

Can we please stop titling albums “Bitches and Hoes” or “bitechezz and hoes” or “my hoess” or anything like that? 

I’m fine with calling yourselves bitches. I call myself a bitch. Hell, my favorite feminist magazine is called Bitch. That’s a decent word. 

But hoes? Hello, am I missing something? You’re all smart people, I assume you know what you’re saying. Are you just not thinking about it? The whole overtly-sexual, implying-prostitution, degrading thing?

Also, please, for the love of all English teachers everywhere, can we please, please spell things correctly?

Thanks very much,

Charlotte

Tomorrow, @stopveganpolice and I should have an English teacher rant party. Because I am this—><— (the space in the middle) close to freaking out at her. And i totally don’t want to start yelling in the middle of class, people get pissed when you do that.

But really bitch please, give useful comments! It is not that freaking difficult. You are an English teacher. This. Is. Your. Job! Writing “why?” all over a paper does not equal actually commenting. And it’s even worse when you pair it with a lousy grade ruining score.

Oh, and when I catch you being flat out wrong, don’t tell me I’m “pushy”. I’m aware. Call me a stubborn bitch if you want. It really doesn’t bug me because I’m perfectly in harmony with my inner pushy bitch. In fact, most of the time it’s my outer pushy bitch. I deal with socially awkward, snarky, rude, oblivious, smug, egocentric boys all the time. Trust me, dearie, you don’t want to go where you’re going with me. And I don’t care that you’re a teacher.

You’re still wrong.

Today, my self confidence has disintegrated to a small pile of moldy crumbs, my self image is some disgusting whale who ought to wear a bag over her head in public, I can’t support one of my best friends or stop her from hurting herself, my family is half shattered and falling apart and I have lousy grades.

Yeah, it’s been just great.

And you know what the tipping point for me was? Discovering that I’m not just a Large, or and X-large, but an XX-Large in shirts (which are still pretty tight on me). What the hell. Did the world shrink? Or did my body just catch up to my mind’s image of how disgusting I am? Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep a “positive image” of yourself while knowing that many people consider you fat, frumpy and ugly?

Talk about shit I don’t need right now.