I’ve torn back the peels of the banana in hopes to clear my suspicions that it’s a vegetable and not a fruit. After all, it wasgreen. It wasn’t ready, yet forcefully, I tug and pull at the tough skin, anticipating the worst. Funny how I knew all along that it was a fruit. I knewfrom the very start. Yet to my surprise, I took a bite. I hungered for the tart aftermath that left my tongue frayed.
This made Me laugh out loud. It’s not just about the orgasms, you know. It’s about the joking around, the laughter, the smiles. That’s such an important part of life. And a sense of humour that’s compatible with someone else’s is as precious as sexual compatibility.
“in this essay i will explore” memes piss me off because it implies y’all still using first person pronouns when writing academically. childish ass
In this essay, this writer will explore the implications of pretending that one’s own personal view is not part of one’s essay, and the inaccessibility of academia related to established custom of artificial detachment.
In this essay, I will demonstrate that the blanket ban on first-person pronouns in high-school and some university English classes is poorly understood and hastily adopted as a result. I will further illustrate that it is a mere substitute for explaining to inexperienced writers that excessive use of phrases like “I think” or “I believe” is unnecessary and rhetorically weakens academic writing, and that opinions expressed in an essay are already assumed to be those of the author. Finally, I will address strategies for effectively conveying that information to students, who often find it difficult to grasp.
In this essay, passive voice will be used throughout in order to distance the work done from any researchers, or, in reality, kind of imply all experiments were done by magical lab gremlins and the results were simply recorded.
in this essay, enlightenment will descend upon you without the agency of any living being. you will know things, yet know not how you know.
prepare yourself. it begins.
In this essay, I will use the first person pronoun as a bludgeoning weapon
In this essay, you may find the use of second person surprising.
Reaction Junkie and I have a little protocol around what I wear. Whenever I’m going out, I ask him what to put on. I’m not asking him to pick out my whole outfit, mind, since that isn’t his strong suit. Instead, I ask him if I should wear a skirt, dress, or shorts. Now that it’s winter, I’ve replaced “shorts” with “pants” and “leggings.” I really like this protocol, since I get to feel that sense of being controlled and Reaction Junkie gets to make pick out some of my clothes, but without any of the pressure of having to pick out a full outfit.
While I don’t ask Reaction Junkie to make all of my clothing choices for me, sometimes I do ask for input when I can’t make up my mind about a particular aspect of my outfit. Last night was such an occasion. I couldn’t decide which boots to wear, these ones, or my big stompy boots. I was leaning towards the stompy ones, but wasn’t sure, so I put these on and asked Reaction Junkie what he thought.
He thought for a second and told me, “Those.” For a moment, I thought about disagreeing and wearing the other boots, but then I remembered my place. It doesn’t matter what I want. What’s important is what Reaction Junkie wants. Even if I think he might be wrong, and that a different course would be better, I need to listen to his decision. If it’s something major, I can, of course, speak up, but even then, if he still wants me to do what he initially said, I must obey. And if I disagree on something minor, I should, no, will obey without question. So I wore the boots that he picked.
The details of Reaction Junkie’s preference or order don’t matter. The important thing I that I remember that I’ve subsumed my preferences and wants into his. If I prefer something that runs contrary to what he wants, I will follow through with his desire. A particular decision may not be or even become what I would like, but by virtue of the fact that it is what Reaction Junkie prefers, I will want to follow through with it. I may not want it specifically, but going along with it will make me happy, because it will best please Reaction Junkie.
PS. Before anyone gets mad, the shirt is from A Softer World, and it’s making fun of people who act like that’s what feminism is about. Reaction Junkie has one, too, which results in some great interactions.
Last night on the train home, I gave Reaction Junkie my phone so he could read some posts that I’d written about him. I love watching him read the things I’ve said. He chuckles in a lovely and, to my ears, threatening way. When he got to the post where I wrote about him choking me at a play party, he laughed that laugh most of the way through, which made me squirm with arousal and embarrassment. He especially enjoyed the last line, “He decides whether I live or die.”
When we got up to get off the train, he handed my phone back to me and said, “Well, now my dick’s hard.” I squeed and bounced up and down, clapping my hands in delight. One of my favorite things in the world is having something I’ve written turn a partner on like that. When I told him that, he replied that he always gets hard when he reads what I’ve written about him. I’m super pleased that he enjoys what I have to say and that he shared that fact with me. He’s the tops.
I haven’t been engaging in consensual misogyny/fulfilling my misogyny kink very much lately. I miss it. I got some misogyny when I played with Legolas last week, I talked about it with Cunt Destroyer on Sunday and Reaction Junkie teased a bit of it, asking for someone to apologize on behalf of their gender, which I did, and then I got to Skype with The Super Sadist last night and we touched on it. All of that was very hot.
It’s not that I haven’t been being degraded and humiliated. Of course I have. And I’ve been hurt and scared and used. It’s incredibly satisfying and I don’t feel like I’m not getting what I want. I’d be quite happy to continue with the things I’ve been doing.
It’s not exactly the same as having the context of male superiority, female inferiority, oppression of women, of being submissive and obedient to all men, etc., though. I don’t need that, necessarily, or want to do it all the time, but the bit I’ve gotten lately has whetted my appetite for more.
I shall have to ask my partners to remind me of my place as a woman and their place as men, above me. I want to be forced to say that I deserve the treatment I get, that women are asking for it, that I want to be used and hurt, that I’m a dumb cunt for wanting those things, that I’m only valuable for the things men want me for.
I need to be told that I’m lesser, a silly little girl, a set of holes to fuck and flesh to beat, just a cunt. We wouldn’t want me getting any ideas that I’m an equally valuable member of society, now would we?
Happy Halloween @GreenSoil! (Ode to William Wordsworth by Nancy Wallace) #Wordsworthrevisited
Playing with Poo (My Brew of Choice)
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden regal cows;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
I chanced upon some moo poo tea.
Such bovine beauties did grace the meadow,
And bellow such a sweet libretto.
They roamed in never-ending line
Along the golden country side:
Ten thousand cattle I saw at glance
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance,
Whilst pooping as they pranced.
Then through the tumble-down, farm-shed door,
Cometh Annie to complete the chore,
Trowels a'blazing! a perpetual collection of poo ensues,
(Nothing but organic will do.)
She gathers bags of moo poo tea
Enough for you, enough for me.
Oh! such garden goodness we create through brew.
Get your poo on, with organic compost tea from Authentic Haven Brand, HERE.Created from livestock raised on permanent native grass pastures at the Haven Family Ranch, California. Naturally organic.
And telling parents that they won’t used gendered pronouns in class – that every student will be referred to with They/Them, and that they’ll be removing all stories that refer to parents as “mommies” and “daddies.”
I approve.
I also saw mention that backersof this law want to expand it to the federal level.
That has led to a daydream of imagining a world where parents and doctors just don’t assign any gender to a child until that child is eight years old, and old enough to choose their own gender.
What difference does the gender marker make to the daily life of an infant, anyway?
so in this daydream there’s no surgeries on intersex kids to make their anatomy match their gender marker, right, because there’s no gender marker to match?
#it’d be really weird if a queerphobic law ended up improving things for queer people #but you know that would be really great #it’d have irony and everything
When the effort is led by English Teachers and Librarians, you could even say it’ll lead to Poetic Justice!
Long after Merry’s impromptu band “Avotado Coast” laid down 60 seconds of sick tunes at a house party, I’ve synesthetically dreamt of rolling hills and subtly-wrong-on-second-glance but wholesome linocut design. Is it a national park? A bluegrass band? A brunch food? Why is the sun a giant avocado? THE WORLD MAY NEVER KNOW
Absentmindedly sketched it on a sticky note while sitting across from my coworker’s laptop’s excellent collection of uplifting national park stickers, then stayed up way too late turning it into an illustration. It’s rare, but sometimes the original unconscious sketch really works out for the final concept!
![tastefullyoffensive:[dubyawinfrey]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/81bcc732afa73d286302feff1b51b3a3/tumblr_n948gbEaft1qewacoo1_500.jpg "tastefullyoffensive:[dubyawinfrey]")
