I Don’t Need Feminism Because…

I don’t need feminism because I do not see myself as a slut, nor do I see that as something to be proud of.

I’m in a loving relationship with a man who loves to take care of me and we’re on the same page about our relationship.

Rape culture does not exist.

I don’t see myself as better than men.

The wage gap does not exist. See here

I am a Christian, I know that traditional roles for men and women are Biblical.

I am secure in being a woman.

I don’t need abortion.

Hair dye has not leaked into my brain, causing delusions.

I know what hygiene is.

I wear a bra (bouncing boobs is painful. It’s not about the patriarchy)

The patriarchy does not exist.

I am not voting for Hillary just because she is a woman and appeals to womens “ideals”.

I have the logics.

As you can see, I don’t need feminism. Many women don’t need feminism. Actually, no one needs modern feminism. It is a cancer in our society. And poor men are suffering from it. They are being attacked for existing. Women are not.

The grit of it is women are getting a kick out of being victims. They are looking for things to get offended by. Stop being a bunch of pansies. You are making me ashamed of my gender.

Seriously, when did feminism become yelling in a street, your armpit hair pink, in lingerie garters with X’s taped over your nipples?

It used to be about respect. About a single woman being able to support her family. About women having a say in who’s president.

Now women want “free bleeding” “free the nipples” and free abortion.

I don’t need these things. Neither do you. Grow up.

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A Post in Which I Use a Mean Word

WARNING: If finding out the actual meaning of the word ‘slut’ and why the term ‘slut-shaming’ needs to be done away with offends you than this is not the post for you.

Someone told me today that the word ‘slut’ is around the make girls feel bad about showing off their body.

Obviously this person has never seen a dictionary.

The definition of slut: A woman who has many sexual partners. Also see- whore, harlet, tramp.

Huh. Nothing about her body or the way she dresses.

An awful thing has happened. People now use the term “slut-shaming” when they feel like one person is trying to tell another person how to dress.

Misusing words is dangerous.

By saying people shouldn’t ‘slut-shame’ you are inadvertently saying that being a slut is okay.

This is what your daughters, sisters, and friends are seeing. Being a slut is ok because people who slut-shame are evil, rigid, Christians who are judgmental, celibate, and self-righteous.

And no one wants to be like that.

STOP USING THIS TERM!

You don’t want your little girls to grow up to be sluts! Unexpected pregnancies resulting in abortions would happen. STD’s. Broken hearts. Emotional damage. Sometimes bodily damage.

Saying we shouldn’t ‘slut-shame’ is like saying prostitution is admirable and stripping is morally ok.

What we should be doing is teaching girls that they shouldn’t body-shame which is making other people feel bad about their bodies.

We should be discouraging them from a slutty lifestyle.

Christians especially should not be calling other people out on “slut-shaming”!  When we see others crying out about people “slut-shaming” we need to tell them that nothing about being a slut is commendable and that they should not be encouraging that!

Stand up for your beliefs! You are being silenced because you are afraid of hurting feelings.

Jesus was not silenced. He preached about sexual misconduct to hundreds of people! He told them what was wrong to do. You can do that! You are capable.

The only group that is allowed to be offended and oppressed nowadays is Christians. Anyone else and it’s a hate crime. But not Christians. Because we are SILENT. Speak up!

The church is being persecuted by our culture and we are letting it happen. Other people will not do the work for you. Christians needs to have a voice again.

Religious Tunage

“We’re going down to the river
Down to the river, down to the river to pray
Let’s get washed by the water
Washed by the water and rise up in amazing grace
Let’s go down, down, down to the river (You will leave changed)
Let’s go down, down, down to the river (Never the same)”

  • The River

“There’s a war between guilt and grace
And they’re fighting for a sacred space
But I’m living proof
Grace wins every time”

  • Grace Wins

“You are loved
If your heart’s in a thousand pieces
If you’re lost and you’re far from reason
Just look up; know you are loved
Just look up; and know you are loved
When it feels like something’s missing
If it hurts but you can’t find healing
Just look up, know you are loved
Just look up, know you are loved
Ooh”

  • You Are Loved

“So when you’re on your knees and answers seem so far away
You’re not alone, stop holding on and just be held
Your world’s not falling apart, it’s falling into place
I’m on the throne, stop holding on and just be held
Just be held, just be held”

  • Just Be Held

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

These are choruses from the four most popular Christian songs today. Really, they sound like one song if you string them together.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t absolutely hate Christian music.

But honestly….. They’re all the same.

God is there

He is with you.

You are loved.

No worries.

There are, of course, exceptions to this rule, but generally speaking, Christian songs and shallow puddles of acoustic guitar and keyboards playing the same four chords in every song.

The Bible is deep. There is so much substance there. And so many old hymns portray that so beautifully.

But nowadays contemporary Christians music is like spoon-feeding a baby. Here is the bare bones of Christianity: Jesus loves you.

And of course, it’s true. But can’t you ever sing about anything that has to do with real life? I wanna hear the song about God helped you out of an abusive relationship. I want the grit of real life, the angst, the depression, the pressure.

NOT “I was going through all this hard crap but I was fine because God is with me.”

False.

No one is ever fine going through break ups, addictions, mental illness, death, depression. No one. It doesn’t matter how devout you are, how many times you go to your church during the week. It doesn’t matter who you study the Bible with or how you pray.

Saying that you are ok going through all of that is bullcrap.

You’re lying. You are lying to non-Christians about what faith means.

Faith doesn’t mean you are ok. Faith doesn’t mean you’re happy all the time.

Faith means you have somewhere to go to. Faith means there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.

Faith is not flowers. Faith is a coach while you struggle through an obstacle course. Faith is your best friend. Faith is not some prescription medicine you take to feel good about yourself.

That’s why Christian music pisses me off. It’s not real. It’s not what people struggle with. It’s so candy-coated.

Step it up, people. I would love some substance.

The Ghost Writer (4)

Yes, yes I know it has been a while, but that’s alright. You can always go back and read the last three installments. (Found under the category Fictional Thoughts)

*Copyrighted*

______________________________________________________

Casidi didn’t want to fall asleep. The dream would come back, it would end up written up on her typewriter, and things would just be weirder.

She called Dean up.

“Baby it’s two in the morning. Don’t we have church tomorrow?” He answered.

“Yeah, but I can’t sleep. This dream thing is really weirding me out.”

“It’s only been two nights.”

“Well, yeah, a recurring dream is one thing. A recurring dream that ends up on my typewriter the next morning, complete with editing? That’s something else entirely. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Then put away your typewriter. You can’t type anything up if it’s put away.”

“Oh… that’s a good idea.”

“Get some sleep, beautiful. Coffee before church?”

“It’s a date, handsome.”

“Ok. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Casidi felt her body relax. Nothing beat hearing her man say those words.

“Goodnight.”

Dean hung up and Casidi set to putting away her typewriter. It went in it’s case in the closet across the room. She pulled the sliding door closed and promptly fell asleep.

………

She and Dean were in a car. But his name wasn’t Dean here. It was Charlie.

“Where are we?”

“On our way to San Antonio. That’s where the answers are.”

“That’s hundreds of miles away.” Dream Casidi went with the bizarre scenario, hoping it would make more sense.

“Not anymore. We’ve been on the road for three hours. We’re getting close.”

“Dean did you do this?” Casidi gestured to her bandaged side.

Dean/Charlie glanced over. “No, you did that. We stopped at a gas station remember? And stop calling me Dean. I don’t know who this Dean guy is, but there better not be anything going on with you and him.” He looked rather put out.

“Sorry. I’m still light-headed from… blood loss.”

Charlie’s face softened. “Does it hurt baby?”

Casidi focused on her side and washed in mind-numbing pain. “Oh!” She gasped. “A lot!”

“We’ll get you to a doctor after we get to San Antonio. We just can’t risk going anywhere else.”

“Who’s after us?!”

Something smashed into the side of their vehicle.

……….

Casidi shot out of bed as her alarm rang the beginning of Sunday morning. She hopped out of bed and got in the shower. Her mind was reeling. How was this dream continuing every night?

She didn’t feel rested at all. Her sheets indicated that it had been a restless night.

Casidi leaned against the wall of the shower and yelped in pain. Craning her neck, she spotted a large purple bruise on the back of her upper arm.

“What the-” Obviously she had been a bit more restless than she thought.

She dried off, put on a dress, and was on her way out the door to meet Dean when her peripheral vision caught something. Her typewriter was out of it’s case, by her bed, with two new sheets typed up cleanly.

1 Cup, 2 Cup, Red Cup, Blue Cup

Oh no, Starbucks has red cups for Christmas.

Because they’ve always done such Christian decorations on their cups…

And I’m personally offended that Jesus is not on my triple shot no-foam pumpkin spice latte with whip…

Because Starbucks is the most important thing in the world…

.

.

.

GUYS! It’s a freaking Starbucks cup, not ISIS in your neighborhood.

Calm down!

Everybody already knows that Starbucks is not, nor have they ever been, a Christian company. This is not news.

Their “war on Christmas” never actually started. It has always been Starbucks being secular.

The fact of the matter is, there are several actual reasons to boycott Starbucks if you are a serious Christian. Not a single one of those reasons is that your cup is red.

Reason 1: CEO Howard Schultz has been vocal that Starbucks’ support for same-sex marriage is a core value of the company.

Reason 2: Starbucks supports Fair Trade. Fair Trade is not Fair Trade. Do some research. Fair Trade stunts economic growth in third-world countries, keeping them as poor as possible to manipulate the workers. Fair Trade does it’s fair share of damage on a global scale and I personally avoid Fair Trade whenever possible.

Reason 3: If you’re hard core, reason 3 is that Starbucks is not a Christian company. It is a very very secular company. This has always been the case. Most coffee companies are not Christian. Most businesses in general are not Christian. This is no longer a Christian country and that is just something we need to realize.

So before your knickers get in a knot, ask yourself why Starbucks is riling you up so much.

Literally nothing has changed.

And the whole “My name is Merry Christmas” thing? Petty. Because guess what, the individual Starbucks employees are just following the rules set out by the god-like CEO and other higher-ups. It’s not their fault. And corporate won’t know whenever an employee calls out “Merry Christmas” when your drink is done. It makes no difference to them what you do.

Screw Feuerstein, he just wants the whole controversy to keep growing. He claims people are outraged, but I don’t actually know anybody who’s actually angry about this. He just wanted that invite to CNN.

AND Starbucks sells Advent calenders. It’s not like they have eliminated all mention of Christmas and decided that it is a neutral ‘Holiday season’ or that they’re spouting Communist mantras at you when you order.

Really though, the fact of the matter is that your celebration of Christmas and what it stands for should not be based off of a paper cup from a secular company. Starbucks is not invading your home with blowtorches, determined to burn down anything that is representative of Christmas.

Calm down, celebrate Jesus’ birth with your family, and if your still angry, get your coffee somewhere else. There are so many other coffee companies, and local coffee is ALWAYS the best.

Besides, Starbucks coffee sucks.

If you want to read a much more eloquent blog on this subject, go check out Matt Walsh’s genius take on the matter.

http://www.theblaze.com/contributions/no-serious-christians-arent-worried-about-the-stupid-starbucks-cups/

(Wo)MAN Of the Year

Bruce Jenner has been named Glamour’s Woman of the Year.

He is a man.

Of course, Glamour is not the the most reliable source for finding out who the most inspirational and womanly Woman of the Year is, considering their track record. In the past Lady Gaga, Serena Williams, Michelle Obama, and Rihanna have all held the title.

It’s the fact that people are all excited and praising Bruce (I refuse to call HIM Caitlyn) for being Woman of the Year.

What did he do to deserve this title?

He chopped off his reproductive organs and got a boob job. Oh, he also grew his hair out, started wearing make-up, and gets a perverted kick out of cross-dressing.

None of these things make him a woman.

If I cut off my breasts, buzz my hair, and stop wearing make-up, does that make me a man?

Bruce Jenner does not have a vagina or natural breasts. He can not get pregnant, carry a baby for 9 months, and give birth. His body type is that of a former-olympic male athlete. Not a womans’ body.

He is not a woman.

He is a confused man whom people are idolizing.

He has a mental illness.

It sickens me that this is what people are calling Woman of the Year.

They call him courageous because he’s a celebrity that decided to become transgender. Forget the two women who became the first female Army Rangers. Forget all the women serving our country. Forget the women who have saved lives or invented wonderful things.

A cross-dressing man who did nothing but got some plastic surgery and slathered on some red lipstick is recognized before them.

But like I said, the folks at Glamour obviously have no idea what they’re doing.

Also, they all apparently skipped 9th grade anatomy.

Anniversary Musings

You know that moment when you lock eyes with someone for the first time and you just… know?

There’s this shiver crawling in slow motion up your spine. Your mouth twitches into a smile. You find so many hidden things in those eyes.

And you want to know more about them.

It’s been two years since Golden Boy and I went on our first date. Of course, we didn’t know it was a date until he dropped me off. That’s when we decided it had been a date. He met my dad for pity’s sake.

That first date was the most nerve-wracking experience. The entire time we were desperate for non-awkward conversation. I kept staring at his hands, wondering if they were brave enough to hold mine on the first date. I swear we hardly looked at each other.

Two years later we can’t stop looking at each other.

I want to tell all you girls out there (and boys) that there is no problem WAITING. When Golden Boy and I started dating, we had already been friends for a year and we just had this feeling that things were going to work out. I don’t know about him, but I was positive that I could spend the rest of my life flirting with this man.

There’s nothing wrong with waiting until you are sure.

We have something so special, him and I. We are each other’s first and only relationship. First date. First kiss. First everything. And that is not something that is common these days. I’m so glad that he is getting all of me and that I am getting all of him. No one took any of me as theirs and kept it. I was able to tell him that I waited for him. And he waited for me.

There is nothing glorious about being a heartbreaker. There is nothing special about burning through boyfriends or girlfriends. Slow down. Wait to fall in love.

I was in love with my man long before we went on our first date. The great part is that love gets so much deeper with time. Every day I love him more.

I hope that everyone reading this gets that chance. It is the best feeling.

Have a fantastic day everyone.