Fuck femininity
Fuck femininity. Fuck being a woman. I’m a cisgender, heterosexual, white woman, and I can’t think of a time in my life I wouldn’t have preferred to be a man. There are no fucking drawbacks! The social pressures are fucking incomparable – why do I have to look fucking pretty before I can be respected for any intelligence I may possess? Fuck that. And yet, pretty women can’t be intelligent, and the really smart ones are all trolls? What about those of us who are fucking average? Just a piece of ass? Men of below-average intelligence have been and always will be in positions of power over me. Because men are fucking right until proven wrong.
I know I’m fucking privileged. In Canada, men at least tolerate my presence, my opinions – provided my makeup is careful and my hair is neat. Fuck modesty, anyway. I didn’t ask to be a member of the fucking ‘weaker sex’ – I’d be perfectly happy providing for myself and not having my reproductive system tear itself to bloody pieces once a month. And ‘not being a woman’ isn’t the same as being a man – it’s not an issue of gender. What I want is the power, the self-assurance that men wield effortlessly, automatically, like their fathers are proud of them – like respect is a right. I want the same fucking right. I’m tired of having to fight for it.
Fuck speed
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it. Slow the fuck down when you’re near a high-volume intersection. In case this wasn’t tremendously clear: when you approach an area that has many people moving their fucking two-ton vehicles from point A to point who-gives-a-fuck, you should move your fucking foot off the fucking accelerator toward the fucking break so that you can give yourself and everyone around you room to move your two-ton deathtraps.
Especially when there is snow on the ground, you selfish little fucks.
I work in a building near a fucking six-way (yes, SIX-way) intersection, and we have an accident roughly every three months because someone doesn’t look both ways when they’re pulling out onto the main street, or someone else speeds through and doesn’t bother to give people some breathing room. Usually it’s a combination of the two. And every fucking accident is preventable.
I don’t give a fuck how important your delivery or groceries or meeting or what-the-fuck-ever is, you can be two fucking minutes late if it means slowing down from 45 mph (or 72 km/h for our Canadian friends) to avoid a preventable collision.
Last week I watched from our office window in that sort of rubberneck horror where you can’t look away even though you want to, as one car slammed into another car, and another car, and another car, leaving a fucking four-car pile-up in which paramedics had to use the fucking Jaws of Life to CLEAVE THROUGH THE TWISTED METAL OF THE DOORS to get an unresponsive old man out of his car. According to the news, he died on arrival at the hospital.
All of it was completely fucking preventable.
When you’re in a situation where speed could mean harm, SLOW THE FUCK DOWN. Give people space to maneuver out of the way in case some weird shit goes down. This goes for pedestrians, bicycles, automobiles, horses, chariots, dogsleds, skis, whatever-the-fuck, just slow the fuck down and realize that it is WAY fucking better to arrive late to your meeting than to arrive dead to the hospital.