i used to get so angry when i would say i was a feminist and people would respond something along the lines of “GROOOSSSS!! but you don’t look like a hair-covered Amazon forced-abortionist who wants to first humiliate, then kill all the men everywhere and become Queen of the Femi-World* and ride a vulva-shaped raft made of super-absorbency tampons across wild seas while forbidding all other women from baking, decorating, and doing the jitterbug EVERMORE. but that’s what feminism IS! i’s seen it on thuh TEEVEE.” that used to make me super, super mad.

today i had a sweet breakthrough.

the correct reaction to such an assumption is WILD, BRAYING LAUGHTER, because friends, that shit is hilarious. it’s like if i were to say “yeah, i paint sometimes” and the reaction were “OOH LA LA! where is your beret? i thought you had a moustache, dangerous french alcoholic artiste! show me your erratic yet sexy mood disorder as you play melancholily upon the cello! do you live in an unruly garret with a number of prostitutes, war deserters, and can-can dancers? do you smear your poodle’s poop upon ze canvas and then burn an american flag while giving all our nation’s oil money to NPR? THAT’S WHAT PAINTERS DO, RIGHT?”