regazza.di.lupo

The word “crazy” in any context still does not have the implications that racist slurs have had or held through out the centuries. Yes, it can be used as an insult and to dismiss people, and I am fully aware of that.

But the situation’s a hell of a lot more complicated than that. You cannot go around removing the word ‘crazy’ and assume that that’s going to fix everything. You also cannot assume that crazy was ever used to describe any single condition. It was not ever a diagnosis. It was a description of behavior. It is still a description of behavior, and oftentimes in our modern culture it’s a positive descriptor. Saying “that’s crazy good!” is not a negative. Saying “she’s crazy about ____” is still not a negative. “That mother fucker is CRAZY.” can go either way. It’s a bit like the word ‘fuck’ in how it can be used. (and how many times have my friends called me fucking crazy after I did something they appreciated? I’ve lost count.)

And yes, there are folks out there who get all hurt about people being called ‘crazy’. And I’ve been called crazy in some instances and it’s hurt my feelings.

But I am a ‘crazy’ person. I am mentally ill and I have at least one disorder that truly affects my behavior and sometimes gets in the way of rational decision making. I realize that my actions at times are crazy. I’m okay with that. Because I have no other way to truly describe the shit I’ve done to myself or to others or the way I’ve reacted to some things. Burning all my fucking school certificates in a bowl was not rational or sane. Cutting myself over 200 times in one night and walking around naked with a bottle of vodka in a dark apartment blaring the 28 days later soundtrack was NOT sane. It was fucking crazy, and it was scary, and it was irrational, and I own that.

YOU may not like the word, and I can understand that, but YOU do not have the right to take a word from ME, from many others like ME, who choose to use it because it gives us a little more comprehension or power over our feelings and reactions. “What I did was crazy.” It levels me. I can understand that in that moment I did something insane/illogical/irrational. It’s a simple word, it’s a word that most people can understand, and I’m not about to pull some classist bullshit and try and describe myself in academic English in a moment when I’m gibbering and screaming and rocking back and forth. I’m not. Maybe you can, but I can’t.

Crazy is what you want it to be. It’s a label for me and I’ve embraced it because it cannot hurt me. You’re goddamn right I’m crazy sometimes. I’m crazy about my dog. I’m crazy about my writing. I’m crazy when the ADD and depression overwhelm me and I do shit like cut my wrists with a paper clip. I’m ok with it. I’m not running from it. It’s become a bit of a badge of honor for me, just like my scars. It’s made me who I am and I’m not going to throw it away because someone who is not even in my life tells me it’s not okay for me to talk about myself in a certain way.

You can decide to not use it for your actions. Feel free to not use it. Feel free to insist you are not crazy or not insane or not irrational or not whatever, but don’t tell me how to talk about my mental illness. You don’t have the right to tell me how to narrate my personal experiences any more than I have the right to tell a POC how to refer to themselves or a trans person or another queer person who to refer to themselves.

And this, by the way, ties into the constant debate on tumblr between those who distance themselves from… well, my people. I see a LOT of shit talking and distancing of the… mildly mentally ill? And the ‘rare’ people ‘like me’. A lot of “well not all mentally ill people are ever dangerous! MOST OF US ARE NEVER EVER VIOLENT OR DANGEROUS! It’s just a FEW REALLY RARE PEOPLE WHO EVER DO ANYTHING DANGEROUS!”

Fuck you. There are more of us than you’d care to admit who are dangerous to ourselves and others, and I, we, are fucking tired of being thrown to the back of the line by people desperate to be seen in a better light. It’s all good that you can play at ‘we’re not so different!’, but you’re fucking US over by pushing us even further out and refusing to acknowledge that we exist to make yourselves look less other. Less crazy.

This has evolved from a tumblr post I made on the subject. I do try to be more thorough here on the Digital Doll Posse, so here it goes.

I find it extremely hard to believe that so many people living in our modern society simply don’t give a second thought to the idea that our society itself breeds rape. Look around you. Look at popular television, movies, at the billboards and magazine ads and even the pornography that surrounds you. Vacant-eyed women sell products, lying in prone positions or mock fear of a fully clothed man while they themselves are stripped down and left looking vulnerable. Photographers like Terry Richardson and companies like American Apparel make thousands of dollars in profit selling the image of the helpless, unclothed woman, ready for your pleasure. Look how she’s dressed. She wants it, right? She can’t say no.

Ads use women’s body parts to sell their products. Breasts sell alcohol. Legs sell perfume, cars. Why? Men are so rarely disembodied this way. Men are so rarely ever shown as helpless. Men are not hanging dead in music videos, their decapitated heads are not carried around like sexual trophies for pop music approval.

People cheer when a college boy has sex with a drunk woman. Boys attack like a pack of feral dogs, sometimes dozens of them, forgetting their humanity and the humanity of their victim, and we are told things like “boys will be boys” and “she shouldn’t have been flirting with that guy.”

More people say that a woman has a responsibility to dress a certain way to avoid attack. If you choose that dress, those heels, well, you’re inviting rape, aren’t you? Men can’t help themselves That’s what we’re told.

Isn’t it insulting to men? Isn’t it terrible to say that men simply cannot control their instincts? Why on earth aren’t we holding more men accountable for their actions and attitudes towards women, and yes, other men? As awful as it is for women who are raped, it’s just as bad for men who are raped, and often times, their pain is made into outright mockery. They are stripped of their masculinity just as women are near beaten to death with their femininity (or lack thereof, depending on the victim) for a crime committed not by them, but against them.

Rape truly is the only crime that we as a collective group use against the victim. We rationalize the perpetrator’s behavior, especially if that perpetrator is famous or wealthy, or the victim’s partner, or even ex partner. We allow rapists to continue about their daily lives playing sports, or acting in movies, or serving in office, because the crime, the act of war they’ve committed against their victim just isn’t as important as our own personal entertainment.

It’s horrifying and frightening that a woman’s life is less valuable than the amusement we get from a football game, but it shows you just how deeply the rape culture that surrounds us has embedded itself in everything we are, and do, as a society.

This must change. And yes, the change does mean teaching men, teaching *people*, not to rape. Showing children from a young age that it is not okay to touch anyone without their permission. That the only body they have rights to is their own, that touching another is a privilege and that that privilege should be treated with the utmost respect.

That all people, be they men, women, gay, straight, trans, bi, or other, of all races, of all backgrounds, have the right to keep their body to themselves until they choose to share it with someone. That if they cannot voice the fact, signal the fact, that they *choose* to share it, then you must not take it. That if you are unsure of the situation, you ask. You stop. You realize that the person you may be harming is truly a person, equal to you, that there are people out there that love this person, and that your actions are injuring them on a level so deep that you simply cannot comprehend it, unless you, too, have been victimized.

This is what we must teach our boys. This is what our children must grow up knowing. Men who recognize these boundaries are not as rare as we think, sometimes, but they should be more vocal. Talk to your friends. Talk to your co workers. Stand up for someone when you see they are being put into a dangerous situation. Realize that nothing excuses rape. Realize that the only person responsible for the rape is the person who did the raping. Realize that a woman’s body is not yours simply because you desire it or appreciate looking at it. Realize that a man who has been raped is no less of a man than he was before the assault.

The world can become a safer place. It starts with dismantling the destruction of the rape culture.

I am bisexual.

I’m a little tired of that being dismissed by both straight people and by gay people. I remember reading through my mother’s copy of Our Bodies, Ourselves as a 12 year old, searching for information about my feelings. It was noted in the pages that while bisexual wasn’t… well, *bad*… bisexuals were sort of jerks because they broke the hearts of women who loved them when they decided to be with men.

This is a sentiment I’ve seen echoed in a lot of different places. It’s a little ridiculous. People who accept homosexuality quite often do not accept bisexuality as a valid orientation. We are passed over, or made into sex-pot ‘slut’ caricatures.

We like to fuck. That’s what bisexual means if you look at our culture’s portrayal. It has nothing to do with anything deeper than that- we just can’t keep our legs closed or our dicks in our pants. And we want it both ways. We want it every way. Right?

Does it matter that plenty of straight people like to fuck? That sex is celebrated by gays and lesbians? It’s a little insulting that we’re somehow dirtier for doing it with all the players, so to speak. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying sex, and while some bisexual people are more open and honest than some straight people, or even some gay people, it doesn’t mean we’re ‘sluts’ or that we all carry some sort of disease.

That’s the fucked up part- I’ve heard that repeated so many places, that we bisexual folk are like treasure troves of STDs. Seriously? That wouldn’t be remotely okay to say about straights, would it? And in most decent arenas, it’s not acceptable to say it about gays, either.

Being bisexual doesn’t make me, or anyone, disease ridden or greedy. It doesn’t mean that we can’t be satisfied with one partner. It doesn’t mean we have to be with both ‘binary’ genders. It doesn’t mean we cheat more than other people.

It just means we are attracted to men and women. And many of us are often attracted to trans men or women, or both, too. And still others are attracted to gender queer people and have decided that for us, bisexual means, our genders and genders that are not ours. Many of us have dated straights, gays, and other bisexuals in some form or another. It doesn’t make us superior, but it doesn’t make us inferior either. And that’s what I’m trying to say:

My orientation is just as valid as yours. It is not a phase, it’s not a way to attract men or to ‘experiment’ because I don’t really want to be with a woman.

I’ve seriously dated men and women. I’ve had people of both genders ask me to marry them. I’ve considered living out my life with people of both genders. As a child, I was attracted to boys AND girls. It was confusing and frightening, especially as I grew up with many religious people in my life, and it took me a long time to admit that I was not straight, and also, that I was not gay.

Honestly, coming out as bisexual was harder than coming out as a lesbian. I lost more friends when I admitted to having a boyfriend than I did when I admitted to having a girlfriend. Most of my lesbian friends just stopped talking to me. Very tolerant, isn’t it? I’m not the only bisexual person this has happened to.

Now that I am again in a long term relationship with a man, even he seems to struggle with the concept that I am bisexual. I have not chosen one gender over another. I will always be attracted to men and women. I will always have fantasies about both genders, I will always notice both genders, and for different reasons. They aren’t interchangeable to me, but they’re both acceptable for potential mates. I wouldn’t want to change my feelings. I enjoy how I am, and how I see the world. All I’m asking is that people accept us. Remember that LGBTQ isn’t just about the gay community. It’s about bisexuals, transgender, and queer individuals, too… and that’s another can of worms, isn’t it?
-Cervena Liska
 

I’ve intended to write my first post for a while now, and on a thousand different subjects aside from this one. However, a flurry of recent facebook posts have pushed me over the edge.
I am a mother. I have one child. I also have a job, hobbies and a small bit of pride in how I look. None of this makes me any less of a mother than a woman who chooses to stay at home, wear sweatpants, and not take the time to sit down and read a book or play a game that doesn’t involve the Cat in the Hat or Spongebob. A trend has begun of equating a woman’s skill at motherhood by her ability to cut everything out of her life except her children.There are always sacrifices when one chooses to have a child, but we don’t have to sacrifice the women we were beforehand or the ability to mold ourselves into the type of women we wish to be, along with being a good mother.
I consider myself a good mother. My daughter is polite without being prodded, she is sweet and friendly, has self confidence and is full of questions. She is not shy and when she plays we can hear what she picks up from our conversations (example: barbie and ken both going of to work with a kiss and a hug, saying ‘goodbye honey’. or the way she loves her baby dolls and is so careful with them). And we don’t feel as if we are sacrificing for her, because the things that we do for her are what we should do, but we also make time for ourselves.
I wake up earlier now than I ever did except when going to school. I do this to have an hour to myself, to exercise, or whatever else the day calls for. I didn’t sacrifice sleep, I choose to wake up early to take better care of myself. I also choose to still wear makeup and dress nicely, because it makes me feel better and happier.
Yes, I wish I could be a stay at home mom, but I have to work if we are going to afford the things we enjoy like our own house, two cars, cable, books and movies, good food and spoiling our daughter. And she enjoys these things as well, along with having a mother and father that are happy and well grounded in their own identity seperate from her.
All mothers have the potential to be great mothers, whether they work or stay at home, or wear sweats or skirts. Motherhood is about how we raise our children and shape the adult they are going to become, not about congratulating ourselves for sacrificing things we don’t really need to lose in the first place.

I hadn’t intended this to be my next topic- far from it. I’ve been mulling over a piece on BDSM/alternative sex and feminism, but… ah, this just has to be said.
I did not expect to read yet another vocal feminist ‘celebrity’ denounce Lady Gaga. But that’s exactly what happened. I opened this month’s issue of Bust magazine and there it was, Corin Tucker of Sleater-Kinney and riotgrrl fame dismissing Gaga as “singing about how many diamonds she wants” and saying that she really just can’t stand music like that, it’s not what she’s about.
All right, ladies. Let’s cut the fucking shit, right now.
Corin Tucker, have you ever actually heard a Lady Gaga song? Do you know that she’s been a vocal advocate of LGBT rights, speaking out for Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, donating to charities for homeless/runaway LGBT teens, as well as being the spokeswoman for a MAC Viva Glam line for AIDS research? Specifically TARGETING OLDER WOMEN and talking about how all women, young, old, gay, straight, bi, single, or not, should take precautions and use safe sex and protect their bodies and their rights.
She has written songs about being proud of her body, supporting other women, ignoring controlling men, and standing up and loving herself and others, gay or straight or other, and you are dimissing her, saying she sings about how many diamonds she wants?
Are you angry that she doesn’t play guitar? Is Gaga invalid as a feminist because she doesn’t wear pants? Because she loves make up? Because she loves vinyl clothes or stilettos?
All I have to say, honestly, is fuck you, Tucker, I expected better of you. And you, Tori Amos. And you, Amanda Palmer, and YOU, MIA. (And it’s not like I don’t like these women. I have their cds. I have their t-shirts. I have been to concerts, written album reviews, and pimped the hell out of their music and continue to do so. As a fan, I think I’m more than allowed to be vocal about my problems with things they’ve done.)
How on earth are you supposed to represent feminism for today’s women if you dismiss and snarl and scratch at women who are different from you, but who are ALSO equally outspoken about women’s rights? Who the fuck are you to say that a woman in the pop music scene isn’t as valid a woman or feminist as you because she’s decided she’s okay with glitter and high heels?
The point of feminism is that we are all women. All races, all weights, all hair colors, all nationalities, all orientations, all styles of dress, all forms of music, WE ARE ALL VALID WOMEN, WE ARE ALL VALID FEMINISTS WHO BELIEVE THAT WOMEN SHOULD BE TREATED AS EQUAL PEOPLE.
You negate that point when you belittle women like Gaga. You say that a girl who chooses to be ‘feminine’ is a bad feminist, and that’s utter bullshit. It’s like saying a childfree woman or a mother are bad feminists for their choices.
If you want to bitch about celebrities, pick one who validly is doing something really anti-woman (ie: advocating anti-choice rallies, rape apologists, racists). You know, the stuff that we are all against and trying to stop.

Since becoming engaged almost ten months ago, one thing has been made abundantly clear to me: my engagement has an expiration date. I haven’t been able to determine exactly what that date is, but I have a feeling that the general population thinks that date either has already come or is rapidly approaching. One of these days, I’m going to unscrew the cap from my engagement and find it all curdled and sour.

Quick backstory: my fiance and I had been in a stable, committed relationship for four years when we decided to become engaged. We had been talking about it seriously for the last year leading up to our engagement. The decision wasn’t made on a whim, and he didn’t “pop the question”. I knew exactly when it was going to happen. We didn’t want one of the most important decisions of our lives to be a surprise in the form of a question accompanied by a shiny object.

We both agreed that our engagement would be a long one, by most people’s standards. A few years, maybe three at least. This would give us enough time to pay off debts and begin saving money; it would ensure that we both had enough vacation time from work accrued to use for our wedding and honeymoon (we knew at the time that he was looking into a new job); and really, what’s the rush?

So after all this responsible planning, imagine my surprise when, after the first six months or so, people seemed to be sniffing at my engagement ring like it had gone sour.

Much to my frustration (and confusion), I seem to get the most violently appalled reactions from people that I do not know at all, or people I barely know. I work 45 hours a week in retail, and I tend to see the same customers every week. These are people I am acquainted with, of course, because I see them every week and talk with them briefly, but these are not people that know me past a professional “surface” level, and they certainly have no place to judge me.

I used to like the postman that delivers to my job. We always laugh and joke while I sign for whatever package he’s delivering. But lately, I cringe when I see him coming. I throw my guards up and steel myself for the inevitable comment he’s going to make about the length of my engagement.

“I haven’t seen you for a while, did you go get married?” he asked one day.

“No, not yet,” I said warily, signing for the box he held in his hands, and he gave me a very suspicious glare.

“Well, why not? Didn’t you tell me you’ve been engaged for a year?”

“I’ve been engaged for about six months.” I could feel myself growing agitated. I traded him the papers I signed for the package, hoping to send him on his way.

“Well, when are you getting married?”

I gave my most chipper you are annoying me and it’s none of your business smile. “We figure it’ll be at least two years or so.” When his expression turned horrified, I added, “That gives us enough time to pay off debts and save money. We’re not rushing.”

He finally turned to go, thankfully, but not before giving me a disbelieving look. “Yeah, well, just don’t wait too long and let him get away.”

Aye-aye, captain. I’ll rush home right now and throw a ball and chain on that boy immediately, before he escapes from the cellar and gets away from me.

It doesn’t stop there. A customer that I hadn’t seen in a while noticed my engagement ring one day while I was helping her. “Oh, did you get engaged? When? Let me see your ring!”

Almost hesitantly, I held out my left hand for her inspection. “Yes, about nine months ago.”

“Wow, nine months? So when are you getting married?”

Here it comes. “Oh, it’ll be a few years.. we figure two or three.”

Her face went blank. Her jaw dropped open. I’m pretty sure I heard it clunk when it hit the floor. “Years? Years? You’re kidding me. Right?” She almost smiled and she looked hopeful, like I was playing a mean prank on her.

“Uh, no, I’m serious,” I said. “We’ve been paying off some debts and we’re saving money now.”

Her face took on a look of pity. “Ohh,” she said softly. “Your parents aren’t helping you. You’re paying for everything yourself?”

I wanted to just slap my forehead and walk away. How could I explain? We don’t want an extravagant wedding that costs as much as a car. We’re both working adults in our mid-twenties, and financial help from our parents has never been a factor in our marriage plans. I’m sure that our families will offer to help when the time comes because they love and support us, but we are budgeting with the cost of the entire thing in mind. I don’t want to go into debt over a fancy dress. We both don’t want to be paying for our honeymoon a year after it’s ended. And once we’re married, we’d really like to have money for like, say, I don’t know, a down payment on a house.

But what if you wait too long? What if you never have the money? Why did you get engaged to begin with if you aren’t getting married in the next 6 months? What if you get tired of waiting? What if HE gets tired of waiting? What if I get tired of waiting?! What if the zombie apocalypse happens while you’re dragging your feet around? Hey, whatever happened with your antique relic 10 month old engagement? Did they ever excavate it and DO something with it?

At least I’m in good company, because it’s not just me that’s been on the receiving end of the engagement inquisition. I had begun to wonder if this was an issue that only women were faced with, because as we all know, women must use every trick in their feminine arsenal to snag a man and keep him firmly tied up in the web of wedded imprisonment, no matter how hard he struggles for freedom. But no, my fiance has been getting the same kind of reactions, and he agrees that it’s usually from people who don’t really know or really “get” us. I wish it could be appropriate for us to carry an informative pamphlet to hand to people who suggest that we’re dragging our engagement out way past the point of their attention span, because for me at least, there is just too much that went into our decision for me to have to try to explain it to someone who is usually just a hair shy of a stranger.

We’ll get married when the time is right for us, not when the postman thinks we should. So in the meantime, we continue to take a deep breath, grit our teeth, and most importantly, enjoy our relationship. Oh, and I have yet to find any mold sprouting from our engagement. After all, it’s not even a year old yet.

Sexual etiquette: Everyone SHOULD have it… but you’d be surprised at how many people don’t. The key to a successful love life starts with knowing a few things that you should and shouldn’t do to keep things fun, sane, and consensual. Here are a few of the big ones… if you can think of anything else, drop us a line in the comments. We just may add it.

Rule #1: Hygiene is important. You don’t have to be spic and span clean, but dirty parts- hands with jagged nails, genitals that have sat unwashed for days, etc, can lead to infection or discomfort, and smells also lend themselves to not being sexy or fun. Dirt under nails or general crud on a penis can cause infection to the woman or man getting penetrated. Please be considerate.

Rule #2: You do not have to shave your pubic hair, but it is a good idea to keep it clean and orderly, so that one’s partner does not get it caught in their teeth.

#3: Do not use cheaply-made toys. Phthalates are a no-no. If your toys smell like a shower curtain then get rid of them, or at least use a condom on them.

#4: Sterilize and clean your toys after every use. Things that go inside people should not be used by multiple partners, for safety’s sake.

#5: Ladies, let’s not use lubes with glycerine for anything in the vaginal area. Glycerine = sugar, and sugar + vagina = yeast infection. There are plenty of high-quality, non glycerine lubricants out there. Do your research, and don’t buy the shady lube that smells like strawberry just because it smells like strawberry.

#6 Discuss sex acts before they occur. This means you should not ‘slip’ into someone’s ass on ‘accident’. Do not break out bondage toys without talking about it first. Do not attempt to make someone deep throat your penis without asking. (Puke’s not sexy, and neither is someone punching you or biting your penis.) Do not think that you can go from anal sex back to vaginal sex without cleaning yourself up first. Women do not appreciate infections, and this is a very common cause of infection. Be considerate!

#7 Discuss your relationship status before sex. Meaning: if you are not single, your partner needs to be aware of your situation, no matter if you are in an open relationship, or if you are being an asshole and cheating. There are plenty of people out there who do not want to have sex with someone who is fucking around on a partner or spouse. We are some of those people. So be honest.

#8 If you have any disease or condition that can be transmitted to a partner, you must let them know before sex happens. Mid-thrust is not when you let it slip you have herpes, or worse, AIDS. I don’t care what any sex expert says… YOU MUST TELL SOMEONE YOU HAVE A DISEASE BEFORE!!! YOU HAVE SEX WITH THEM!

#9 – Here’s another one – contraception. Ladies, come prepared and bring your own condoms. Men, do not forget them, either, and don’t be surprised if you are asked to use one. If you are allergic to latex, you need to bring non latex condoms.

#10 – You. Must. Always. Have. Consent. Before. Sex. Anything else is wrong. No one was asking for it, and consent is not, cannot, and never will be implied in the absence of no. It must be given. And if someone says stop- be it a safe word, or  a simple stop… stop. Sex is only fun when it’s not *harming* someone.

Okay, ladies, I understand the occasional need for the Hover Technique.  Especially handy in seedy roadway gas station bathrooms, the Hover Technique has been practiced and perfected for hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years.  It is a painful technique that requires the utmost concentration and commitment on behalf of the Hoverer, as well as really strong thigh muscles.  Poised in a half-squat, the Hoverer must attempt to hold herself up, lingering just above the toilet seat without actually allowing the disease ridden toilet seat to touch her in any way, lest she spontaneously contract hepatitis or become impregnated with a porcelain baby.

Somewhere along the line, I’m guessing, the stream of pee somehow finds its way onto aforementioned diseased toilet seat.  Okay.  I get it.  The Hover Technique is hard.  You’re concentrating so hard on the burning pain in your leg muscles that you might wobble a bit and cross the stream onto the toilet seat.  But, wouldn’t it stand to reason that, as you wipe and stand, you and your thighs breathing a sigh of relief, you might turn and regard the dribbling of urine that you’ve deposited onto the toilet seat, and… clean it off?

This really seems so obvious. I am still astonished every time I walk into a public restroom and find the toilet seat covered in pee.  This is especially annoying at my work, where there is only one toilet, it is available to the public, and I have to wait in line behind 5 people to even be able to use it, thus rendering me nearly paralyzed from the abdomen down with the need to pee by the time it’s my turn.  Once I burst into the bathroom and hastily slam the door behind me, my pants are halfway undone when I realize there is piss all over the toilet seat. Amidst my screams of obscenities, I now have to find a way to cross my legs, hobble sideways like a crab towards the toilet, and clean someone else’s urine off the seat just so I can relieve my bursting bladder; all the while pleading with to my urethra to hold it back for just 30 more seconds.

Do I have to explain how absolutely disgusting this is?  Every time this scenario plays out, I ask myself the same question: how are there so many women in this world who are just so downright nasty as to leave their piss on the toilet seat for the person to comes in after them to clean up?  What is going on in your mind, Nasty Toilet Seat Hover Technique Piss Woman, that tells you this is okay?  How would you feel if I, as a guest in your home, used your toilet, pissed all over it, and left it for you to clean up?  I hope you would feel disgusted and outraged, because that is exactly how I feel every time this happens to me.

The horrific thing is, it doesn’t stop there.  I can’t count how many times I have walked into a public restroom to find used pads lying on the floor, bloody tampons sunk to the bottom of the toilet bowl, and those little plastic backs that you peel off the sticky side of pads stuck to the wall.  One of my favorites is when a woman decides it is totally acceptable to wrap her used pad in a huge wad of toilet paper and then carefully place it on top of the toilet paper dispenser, as if placing a bloody sacrifice on an altar.  I usually discover these once I’ve already sat down, and it sort of creeps up beside me in my peripheral vision until I turn and realize with great horror that someone’s uterine lining is wrapped up in tissue not six inches away from me.  HOW HARD IS IT TO USE A TRASH CAN?

Ladies, next time you catch yourself striking a crane pose over a public toilet, please have some consideration for the women patiently doing the pee dance outside of your stall.  Wipe your piss off the seat, properly dispose of your menstrual products, wash your hands and get the hell out.  It’s not that hard and, in fact, it is common courtesy.

-Modra.Zelva