Matt Forrney, the asshole behind the now-defunct In Mala Fide blog, is apparently as desperate for attention as ever. So today I’m going to indulge him by posting this deliberately obnoxious comment of his about women and drinking. [CORRECTION: The post was actually written by someone calling himself “The Captain Power,” who is evidently a whole other different person than Matt Forney, who merely published this post on his blog called Matt Forney.]
If your girlfriend goes out and drinks alcohol, you are most likely getting cheated on.
Women by nature are predetermined in their D.N.A to get pregnant and reproduce, and until they reach menopause they need a constant supply of penis to provide fertility. Your girlfriend might prefer your penis, but once the alcohol kicks in and she is inebriated, your penis is useless. Out of site, out of mind (but full of semen).
In my entire life I have never met a women who was out drinking and didn’t cheat on her boyfriend. …
The few drinking exceptions for women include weddings, work parties, birthday parties with male friends, and suicide attempts.
The reference to suicide attempts at the end is a nice touch.
I have that sort of vision already. When it’s not “Oh, that was my hair, not some strange person” it’s “Oh, it’s not a giant huntsman, it’s that dull paint spot on the wall that I’ve seen 685980349198 times already. And double-checked every time.”
Yep. Bonus points if double-checking requires you to actually get up and walk a distance.
Dang, I miss the bonus points! It’s in my bedroom, which is quite small. Every night I get home and *startle*, every other time I go in there, *startle*. 😀
Hmm, I have some water stains on my ceiling like that. Not so much startle as, “Are those new? Do I have a leak?”
Also, a mole on the bottom of my foot. Every damn time I see it (not all that often, because I don’t bend that way), I think, “Is that new? Melanoma?”
Ok, I’m a lazy ass, but huntsman or paint spot? I’d have reprinted that shit by, oh, the third time I went total panic mode and then felt like a dumbass.
“Huh? Oh, it’s my hair”? Dandy, fine, whatever. “Huh? Did the cat just ninja past me? Nope, a shadow, k”? Totally dandy (though, she usually sneaks behind me, so maybe I did he her being a ninja…)
“Was that a spider? Oh thank gods no”? Annoying. Thinking it was bigger than my pinkie nail? *runs and hides*
You’re like the opposite of a tourist board. Instead you’re determined to discourage potential visitors by reminding them of the existence of Australia’s horrifying arachnids.
I’m definitely the Anti Tourist Board. You’re talking to the person who went to Edinburgh to get away from they Sydney Olympics. 😉
Our vision is great, but when it comes to navigating our internal world, I’m blind as a bat. I mostly get around by touch, and didn’t realize that it wasn’t a universal system thing until Sneak made me glasses and HOLY SHIT DETAIL.
It’s still really weird though. I guess I just don’t have enough bandwidth to fully process TWO fully realized visual worlds at the same time. (Though apparently Sneak does.)
I was driving the other night when a fairly large (dime-sized) spider crawled out of my A/C vent and started wandering around my dashboard.
It is a fucking miracle that I didn’t crash my car. I even managed not to lose my shit to the extent I was able to get it to crawl onto a piece of paper, which I then tossed out the window. I figured that littering was a smaller karmic price than killing a probably harmless spider.
This is because I was driving on surface streets. If I had been on the highway, I would have perished in a fiery wreck, taking that spider with me.
The first time I ever saw a wood spider, it freaked me the FUCK out. Mostly because it was on our mailbox, and you had to get pretty close to it to get through the door. But also because it looked like a garbanzo bean with stripey legs, and I thought it was a mutant tarantula or something.
Curious – I’d have thought that wood spider was a type of orb weaver, but apparently they’re huntsmen (much like ours). Yeah, huntsmen in the letter box = seriously scary. So does huntsman sitting on the back of the kitchen dresser exactly where I was putting an egg cup AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!
I understand that being cheated on must suck, especially if you were really invested in a relationship, but how do you get from “a woman cheated on me” to “all women everywhere for all time are biologically predestined to cheat constantly until menopause”?
Why do so many people now need to leap from basic observations into halfbaked “evolutionary” explanations of things that can much more easily and soundly be explained by interpersonal, situational or environmental causes?
“Biology did it” is fast becoming the new “God did it”, if it hasn’t already.
“Biology did it” absolves personal responsibility, that’s why it’s so popular among those who find self-examination too painful.
Hah! Spiders.
Watched Brian Cox’s Wonders of Life episode last night. You’ll all be thrilled to know that the spider most recently discovered in Madagascar creates webs
that … can …. span … rivers. Web 30 sq feet, anchoring thread 82 feet long.
Yippee. http://news.discovery.com/animals/new-spider-catches-attention-in-giant-web.htm
::crosses Madagascar off list of places I could be persuaded to visit::
Come to
AustraliaMad’gascarYou might accidentally get killed
Speaking of spiders… I leave my porch lights on because I’m often out in the middle of the night and like having light to come back to, and that means that the spiders in the neighbourhood have set up camp on my porch because of all the insects that hover around the light. I can even count which ones have been there more than a season because they just keep getting bigger and bigger each year, and there are at least 30 that hang out there. One of these days I’ll get a hose and wash away all the webs, for the moment I just duck and move quick in the middle of the night and hope nothing drops on me.
Re: pregnancy, people telling horror stories to pregnant women is one of the most frustrating things ever! It’s hard enough to discuss pregnancy with a new parent, when it’s a subject largely absent from our cultural narrative, but then having to correct all the erroneous and terrible things that people will tell pregnant women is just awful. Especially since labour needs to be something that happens when you’re relaxed/unafraid, since labouring while afraid or tense is incredibly self-defeating.
Labor stories all soon to deliver folks should hear — my mother’s water broke with my brother as we stepped into the pizza shop for dinner. He was born 4~5 hours later.
We still joke he smelled the pizza and wanted some 🙂
(They don’t need to hear about delivering me, short story is I didn’t want to come out)
Eh, the doctor scanned our mother with an ultrasound machine that took up a whole room, found a head, and apparently stopped counting (or lost count or something) because I was a COMPLETE AND TOTAL SURPRISE in the delivery room.
Doctor: Hold on, there’s another one in there.
Mom: … Pardon me?
By comparison, I knew my babies’ … shall we say, equipment for six months before they were born. Also, Beloved was getting weekly sonograms through out January and February.
There’s a pizza delivery joke in there somewhere.
Falconer, you’re also a twin? You guys are going to end up with like, parallel reality birthday parties or something!
Katz — probably. I just barely 3, and thought the sudden decision to get it to go meant I’d done something wrong. Making me a bigger fuss than delivering him was!
It saddens me, the idea that pregnancy is so common but not talked about. Eesh. Then again, I was FURIOUS when I was trying to recover from my ED and could not for the life of me find anything that taught how to make eating easier. What the hell, seven billion people and not one of them has something written on the the pragmatic bits that I can find?
Erroneous? The worst thing 30 years ago was the pregnancy is all natural pink unicorns farting rainbows schtick.
Even the director of nursing at the hospital I had to spend a few weeks in – not in high dependency, but a few of the other women on the ward were yo-yoing between our top floor ward and the HD unit every time they nearly lost the pregnancy – did her rounds one day and was talking to me. We saw a woman “walking” past on crutches (she also had the too much relaxin problem – but it affected her hips first and worst) and sighed how sad it was that we were all in hospital. Pregnancy and birth were “natural” processes and shouldn’t go wrong like this.
She was a midwife!! She should have learned some time or another that modern pregnancy care and her own midwifery skills were the only reasons we didn’t have maternal and perinatal death and injury rates like those of very few generations earlier. There were women there who’d had multiple (one had had 10) stillbirths / miscarriages, and a couple had extremely premature births while I was there. If you spent more than a day or two in the hospital you realised that the Dr Quick the very nice voice on the PA system frequently asked to go to the neo-natal or HD units wasn’t a person – it was an emergency, a baby or a woman were in deep trouble somehow.
Pregnancy can be dangerous, but it is natural. The reason why we have low maternal/perinatal death is because of modern medicine and trained birth attendants. I advocate for home births in cases where the women are properly screened and trained attendants are present. I advocate for hospital births in high risk cases or where the woman is more comfortable in the hospital. It’s pretty much up to where the woman is most comfortable and safe.
Regardless, I meant when people are telling all these awful stories about their very rare thing that happened, or when they have faulty recall of the events (which happens a SHOCKINGLY large amount of the time). And it’s coupled with the false narrative of “birth” that’s frequently shown in mass media, where it’s all screaming and terrifying and “PUSH PUSH PUSH” and lasts about 10 mins. Which means that the “quick” births of 4-5 hrs like above can be considered failures by mothers who expect their births to be over super quick, or by moms who think they aren’t strong enough to make it through anything, or by moms who are terrified of the start of labour creeping up on them/the anticipation of the pain is worse than the actual pain. It’s a complicated issue, but the cultural narrative and people wanting to discuss their horror birth stories (which is also shockingly common and something that I think is just innately cruel) doesn’t help.
Oh, he was quick! I was one of those stories not to tell soon to deliver folks.
I was due the fourth, my birthday’s next Saturday. Convinently, I was born a Saturday so this story will be simple! She went in Thursday for yet another scan to see if I still had enough fluid, got a call that evening? early early Friday? to get her pregnant ass to the hospital, she was getting induced. So bright and early Friday they start her on a reasonable amount of the drugs they so like to overuse now. Few hours later when nada is happening, they tell her to take a walk around the hospital, it can help things settle into place. She does, it does, by Friday evening she’s in proper labor. A bit after noon Saturday I am still nowhere to be seen, and the talk of a c-section starts — now, this is 1985, back when once you had one, you were having one with every birth thereafter. When her FUCKING ANCIENT OB/GYN says he’s going to try with the forceps first.
16 days late, 30~ hours between induction and birth, removed with forceps. I will never hear the end of this.
And then my brother slid out in a matter of hours. So yeah, TV may say he took awhile, my mother otoh was THRILLED he didn’t pull the shit I did!
Afaik, this story never gets told to expecting parents (any of you reading along who’re expecting, your kid is far more likely to be like my brother!). Hell, I told part of this to my psych cuz it was somehow relevant to something, and specifically said to please not even remotely mention it to the very pregnant receptionist, don’t scare her like that!
Telling that one to someone who’s expecting is just fucking cruel. Tell the one about my brother instead, his birth was funny! And ironically, pizza has arrived, time for dinner!