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Welcome New Readers, Old Readers, and Vietnamese Pedophiles! – The Girl With the Blog Guided Tour

Sometimes I worry about how much I have in common with Octomom.

Both attention seekers, rippled with stretch marks, pretending that the Internet’s validation of our existence isn’t the glue holding our very feeble lives together. The resemblance is uncanny.

Just a regular Sunday

But having my most recent blog post Freshly Pressed was a deeply disarming occurrence in my life. Don’t get me wrong. It may just be the best thing that has ever happened to me – which I would hope either makes you feel really happy for me, really depressed, or slightly aroused. The latter for the sake of my ego. Both foreign and domestic Internet pervs complete me.

Nevertheless, being Freshly Pressed did result in some fine things happening to me and my blog. Like this:

And this:

But mostly this:

I realize the everyday pretentious blogger may scoff at 167 subscribers, but the everyday pretentious blogger also doesn’t require his/her subscribers to admit to “wanting to be a sucker” before subscribing. Plus this is 104 more subscribers than I had last week.

So…

Yeah…

 

So I was thinking since I have 104 new people to become acquainted with before they inevitably decide they can’t tolerate me, I will take this opportunity to further introduce myself and my blog and hopefully alienate only a handful of you. Here we go “little suckers” – or something more affectionate and less creepy.

http://www.thegirlwiththeblog.com – A Guided Tour

You are good honest people and I’m not going to lie to you. I write a lot of crap. This isn’t me being cute and self-deprecating. This is me keeping it real like Dr. Phil. I’d like to tell you that everything written prior to the day you subscribed is a gold mine of wit and exuberant talent, but in May I wrote an entire blog entry about the song “She Blinded Me With Science.” So really, I’m mostly a hack.

To help you filter through my literary feces I’m going to point you in the direction of some of my blog entries that I wish had been Freshly Pressed, or acknowledged by anyone other than disapproving family members.

Six (more) Characteristics of My Future Ex Husband

Real Women Have Confidence

The Charms and Harms of My Mother’s Man

The Girl Who Shouldn’t Have a Blog

Lindsay Lohan’s Playboy Comments Make Me Want to Die: A Discussion of Phony Female Empowerment

Why Gay Marriage Should Never Be Legalized and America Rocks!!!

The Great Plights of Humanity – Four Issues Untouched in the GOP Debate

How Ryan Gosling and Lifehouse Songs Have Ruined My Life

…I’m over this. I have roughly 90 posts. Read them. Or don’t. Whatever.

So in addition to the above links, as a new subscriber to TGWTB there are some things you should know

1. I am the asshole boyfriend of the WordPress blogosphere. I don’t write regularly, in fact sometimes I don’t write at all. For weeks. Months even.  You send emails, I shrug you off. You start to forget about me. You think to yourself “this f***wad doesn’t deserve my body or my time.” Then BAM. I am blogging every day the month of May, confusing you, annoying you, seducing you with my melodrama before once again vanishing for weeks at a time for the length of the summer. I’m like Rip Van Winkle, without the good excuse.

sweet beard, brah

2. I’m only 5’4 so I stand on a lot of soap boxes. I hope you dig it.

3. Receiving email notifications about blog comments, likes, and new subscribers brings me greater pleasure than any man or instant pudding mix ever could.

That’s all.

The Girl – The Abridged Version

Pretty much everything there is to know about me can be found in the “About the Girl” section of this blog. But to avoid this post coming off as one mother of a pimp fest for my blog (although, I mean…yeah…) I provide you with the following insights into my psyche:

1. At least 3 times a week I eat something with mold on it, only to lie awake in bed at night wondering if I’m going to die because I am allergic to penicillin and wasn’t penicillin discovered through mold on an orange? Or was that something else? Why did I have to listen to Dashboard Confessional and cry during high school Chemistry?

2. I hate people with really narrow feet. More than I should. More than anyone should hate anyone.

3. While sitting at my desk in a bra and shorts, I determined that the real reason clothes were invented is to distract fat people from how gross they look naked.  I’m fat. I’m allowed to say this. And I’m not that fake fat blogger who only talks about being fat to appeal to lonely people in Idaho. I’m genuinely fat. So much to the point that I had to put on clothing so I could concentrate on something other than my fatness. Like writing this blog that ends with me talking about being fat. Awesome.

That’s all.

So please old readers, new readers, and Vietnamese pedophiles who somehow find my blog, please read me, write me, and call me, maybe. But most importantly, share 3 things about you that make you as effed up as me. Then we can freeze each other’s bras and practice french kissing.

Happy to have you 🙂

Love,

The girl who only feels entitled to call herself female for the one hour directly following leg shaving

 

Lindsay Lohan’s Playboy Comments Make Me Want to Die: A Discussion of Phony Female Empowerment

Yahoo is a website known for its hard-hitting journalism. Why, just this morning I learned that askmen.com named Jennifer Aniston the “Hottest Woman of All Time,” and that Kris Humphries squirmed in some inconsequential interview during his reality divorce media tour, which is sure to come to a close as soon as people decide they don’t care about any “marriage” between two strangers’ that was shorter than my last menstrual cycle.  Nevertheless, while browsing the momentous headlines Yahoo promotes with gripping, front-page appearances, (implying to those less observant that these stories are actually relevant to our sheep-like existence) I came across a rare and delightful story about classy, put-together, screen legend-to-be, Lindsay Lohan.

I was instantly mesmerized by the enticing, yet informative headline:

Lindsay Lohan’ Playboy Appearance Sparks Interest 

With a dead-behind-the-eyes need for conformity, I clicked on this link and read with peeked interest, as my buttocks slowly began to slip from the edge of my seat.

“The talented but troubled Lindsay Lohan will appear in the altogether in an upcoming issue of Playboy. Earlier this week, the cover of the magazine was leaked. The photo showed Lohan in a provocative pose, with certain areas obscured by the magazine’s bunny logo…”

O.M.G. this IS interesting! But with a lack of commitment necessary to read a full news story, I channeled the rest of the population with a fruit-fly attention span and quickly darted my eyes to the lower half of the article (dirty!).

Oh, Lindsay. You are such a martyr...

   “It’s a very male-dominated world,” Lohan said. “So knowing yourself and being comfortable with your body is an important thing for me as a woman. Everyone entitled to their opinion, but that’s mine.”

This quote, promptly stirred me from my pop culture stupor. Yes, Lindsay. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion…unless it’s stupid.  I know calling myself a feminist isn’t exactly a popular label these days, but like, I can’t afford Gucci, so ima stick wit it.

This quote makes me die inside. Now I know Lindsay’s opinions pretty much mean nothing to anyone now that she’s cemented her trashiness in print after years of just promoting it in action. I know there are no stable little girls/ignorant teens that look up to her anymore, so I don’t have to worry about the direct consequences of her statements. But I am still going to deconstruct them, if for no other reason than the fact that I think it’s fun to make fun of drug-riddled hussies.

This phony female empowerment argument has been made since the beginning of time (or since the early 1980s, no big diff) to counteract any backlash toward unadulterated sluttiness. While I do believe, strongly, that female sexuality does need a revolution of sorts, I hardly believe the avenue for that is a men’s pornography magazine.

There is a certain irony in pretending that finding comfort with your body on the pages of Playboy is counteractive to the “male-dominated world” we live in. I’m pretty sure that by using a male-dominated (in terms of creation and purchasing power) publication to advocate your lack of body issues, you are directly feeding into that male-dominated world. Stripping down, undergoing several hours of makeup and hair styling, posing in sexually submissive positions, and having your body airbrushed to the supposed male expectations of perfection, won’t exactly incite another fist pump from Rosie the Riveter.

Playboy exists solely for the sexual gratification of males, with the force-fed insecurity of females an unfortunate consequence. Playboy does not promote female sexuality, but rather the sexuality that men supposedly want from females. To be honest, I don’t really care if Playboy exists. I just care that women feed into it under the ignorant notion that it has anything to do with female empowerment. I know somebody has to spread their legs in the crease of a centerfold if we don’t want the world as we know it to spontaneously combust, but c’mon, Lindsay. Really? REALLY?

"Oh, if I could but live another century and see the fruition of all the work for women! There is so much yet to be done." - Susan B. Anthony

"A dame that knows the ropes isn't likely to get tied up." - Mae West

This whole, “let’s take our tops off and make out on top of the bar so guys can high-five each other while they watch” female culture we live in is getting old. Why does this type of so-called female sexuality only come about in response to the male desire for it? It is so painfully pathetic to grow up in a world where girls post Facebook kissy-face pictures of themselves in underwear to see how many guys reply with a “wow ur so butiful,” without ever looking at her face.

Men hardly even try to be appealing to women, proven solely by the startling number of prospective male companions who have openly farted in front of me before laughing about it. Why do females get so caught up in it? As much as Marilyn Monroe fascinates me, she isn’t exactly a beacon of true female sexuality, since her whole game was to play into the shameless, innocence of it. If women have to emulate a sex symbol, I wish instead that it was someone like Mae West who was powerful, unapologetic, and totally in it because she wanted to be, and she believed in the importance of her own needs, not just that of her partner. That is female empowerment, Linds.

I’m not saying Lindsay Lohan ever claimed to be a feminist, but by acknowledging the male domination in our world, she is indicating her understanding of the worldwide need for female empowerment. Had she just smacked her gums and blown a bubble giggling something like, “I just forgot to wear underwear that day, haha” I’d find her trivial and embarrassing to womankind, but I wouldn’t write a blog about it.

Ok, rant done. Enjoy the rest of your day and for God’s sake keep your clothes on, shawties.

Love,

The girl who is proud to be a modern-day, bra-wearing feminist

PS: In less headline-worthy news, three women were also honored with the Nobel Peace Prize today, go figure.

Nobel Peace Prize winners Liberian president Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf, left, Liberian peace activist Leymah Gbowee, center, and Tawakkol Karman of Yemen, right, take the stage at City Hall in in Oslo, Norway, December 10, 2011. – AP