Tag Archives: feminism

#118: Stop Talking About Menopause

There is a kind of girl who’s always liked to talk about her period: How she can’t wait to get it, when she’s having it, how bad her cramps are, where she buys her tampax, whether she’s late, how heavy her flow is, when it’s slowing down, and what it feels like when it stops all together.

And to all that I say: Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala. In other words, I don’t want to hear about it, okay? When did menstruation, or the lack thereof, get to be polite conversation? I guess around the time they started running ads for tampons on prime time TV. But to me it’s just, ew, gross.

What’s so interesting about menopause, anyway? What is this wisdom they keep talking about, this freedom, this huge change that demands hormones or maybe not hormones — sorry, I can’t keep track. The only thing more boring and unseemly than discussing getting your period is, it seems to me, discussing not getting your period.

Some of you might say my feeling on this issue is old, and that the modern stance is to be openly affirmational about the feminine circle of life. Well, I can get all woman-y with the best of them, girlfriend, but I still say keep the whole blood in your cooter thing to yourself.

On that note, I’ll change the subject to something younger: cool music. I have no idea what group or song this is, but the video got millions of views on YouTube and it features thematically-related red flags. At least I guarantee it will be more educational and entertaining than hearing about anyone’s adventures in menopause

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#48: Enough With The Man-Bashing

Sad, isn’t it? I mean, there go half my jokes. And nearly all my fun.

That’s right, it’s time to retire those quips about male refrigerator blindness and brains in penises. But before we declare an absolute moratorium, let me just tell you my favorite man-bashing joke, first relayed to me by the divine Mave Maclean of Hampstead, England:

Q: What do you call the useless bit of flesh attached to a penis?

A: A man.

For those unregenerate man-bashers among you, there are plenty more great jokes out there.

But if you’re determined to act younger, you should know that man-bashing has gone the way of bra-burning and do-it-yourself gynecology, another relic of old-style feminism. Feminists today love men, appreciate men, even revel in gender differences without needing to feel that men are in any way inferior to women, a stance I wholeheartedly support.

At least that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

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