Condition your teacher to get the fuck out of the class
Think about this in the context of performing feminity. So many women deny that they have been influenced to shave, wear makeup, wear heels, etc and claim they do it for themselves. But when you are receiving compliments and are getting treated better when you do those things, you are definitely being influenced.
Think of this in terms of race. If you are complimented for being light skinned, not only are you going to try to be as light skinned as you can manage, but you are going to associate darker skin with not being complimented therefore not being complimentary. Your values are going to shift to follow the dominant racial hierarchy *without you being aware* that you are valuing things that way.
reblogging this now bc the race angle was added!
Conditioning works in many, many ways. We as a society have managed to be conditioned as a collective by ourselves, government propaganda, rich people and more. This is why it is so hard to break our own programming and overcome our bigotry, too.
Due to the well of my friends’ “def not an axe murderer” date recommendations drying up, I have turned to that most sacred of modern relationship institutions: online dating. As a very busy person trying to get it in with other very busy people, I prize honestly and directness above all else when it comes to profile creation. I include full body shots in my photos, try to minimize the use of MySpace angles in selfies, and write at the very top of the summary/caption/profile that I am fat. Not “curvy,” not “thick,” not “lots to love”–I’m f*cking fat. I’m not ashamed of it, but I also known that weight is a dealbreaker for lots of people. I don’t want to waste anyone’s time.
About a year ago I met “Evan” via Tinder. We exchanged friendly messages for a few hours one night and agreed to meet up for drinks the following evening. I waited for a full hour past the designated time, and just as I was getting up to leave, the texts started rolling in.
“I can see you sweating from here.” “How long does it take you to roll out of bed every morning?” “Is there an earthquake or are you just getting up for more pretzels?”
Really idiotic, juvenile shit. Four separate numbers, commenting on things like my clothes, which clued me in that the senders were nearby. This went on for 15 minutes before I finally saw Evan, trying to hide in at a corner table and giggling with a group of buddies. I made eye contact, saw that he saw me, and then walked out. The texts kept up until I blocked the numbers a few hours later.
I ran into Evan about 3 weeks later. We got on the same elevator, and he tried really hard at being super interested in the emergency phone instructions. I just confronted him, and he admitted it was just some “game” that him and his friends play. He knew I was fat before agreeing to meet up; they all did, because that’s what they do. Match up with fat women, then either ghost them or “troll” them at the meet-up. It was also kinda obvious he’d never seen any consequences from this bullshit, as he was sweating pretty hard and looked more humiliated than I felt. I just said whatever and walked out, expecting to never see him again.
About a month ago, some local foodie wrote a great review of the restaurant I own, and we’ve been slammed ever since. In the past, I stayed mostly in the kitchen, but I’ve been doing more and more front-of-house stuff lately, and Valentine’s Day I was working a bit of a split between the two.
I saw Evan just as he was pushing in his date’s chair. My name isn’t on the restaurant, and he didn’t see me. I checked the section up at the hostess stand and saw that one of my favorite old-timers, Nan, was going to be his waitress. I went to the bar till, took out $400, put it in her hands, and said, “This is going to be your only table for the rest of the night. You are going to make this the worst date he has ever been on.”
She spilled every single thing she brought out to the table, all over him. I was waiting for him to blow up on Nan, but he bottled it up, obviously trying to make a good impression on his date. She seemed like a perfectly lovely lady; I told Nan to make sure everything was good for her and terrible for Evan.
She poured ice water on his d*ck. She smacked the back of his head with the edge of a tray. Spilled soup on his shirt. Dropped every fork he asked for. I personally oversalted his food, used the shit liquor for his drinks, used flour instead of sugar on his dessert. To be honest, I don’t know why he didn’t just walk out. He must have really wanted to f*ck this woman.
Finally, he cracked. Demanded Nan find the manager and bring her out. I was only too happy to emerge from the kitchen with my chef’s coat and say what, I’m not ashamed to admit, I’d been planning out all night.
“I would have said hi earlier, but I didn’t want the earthquake to disturb your dinner.”
I will savor the look on Evan’s face for the rest of my life.
He was a little too flummoxed to explain, so I pulled a chair up to the table and introduced myself to his date, Amanda. Told her how I met Evan. Showed her some fun old messages. Then I told gave her a voucher for a free meal on her next visit and told Evan to get the f*ck out and never come back.
When the new gay get fired for not doing thier job
When the new gay shows up after getting his job back for blowing the manager
When the district manager fires both of you, and the manager, for starting drama in addition to having inappropriate sexual relationships with management.
When all three of you head to the coroporate HR office to file a wrongful termination complaint on the district manager and find out they got promoted to HR.
i just saw a fb post where a man was arguing with a woman about the best way to make macarons and he kept insisting that she was wrong, and then eventually he was like “I’ve never personally made macarons, but if you think about it what I’m saying makes sense, i’m simply stating the obvious. i’m sure there are plenty of youtube tutorials that would show you the same thing.” and the woman replied by linking him to her instagram business page and she makes fuckin macaron towers for parties for a living and i’ve been laughing about it for a solid 5 minutes.
Men automatically assume they’re more of an expert on something than any woman on account of their dicks. I’ve never met such an ignorant and narcissistic creature as a male
I’ll never forget a time when a fb friend of mine posted that she’s on her way to hospital to give birth. Women commented with “good luck” and other encouraging messages. A man’s comment was advice on how to give birth.
You have got to be kidding me
So I was talking about Jekyll & Hyde (the book) at a writer’s museum while we were looking at an Robert Louis Stevenson exhibit. I was giving my take on Jekyll, and my brother tried to counter it. I countered back easily, and then he said “well I’ve never read the book”
My dude………..stop
my ex, whose baking experience was pretty much limited to frying premade biscuit dough in boy scouts to make ‘donuts’, would constantly try to correct me or give me advice on baking
i’m a fucking pastry chef
met a dude at a party who was talking about physics and asked if i’d ever listened to any online physics lectures bc he listened to all of this one series and they were so helpful and maybe i could learn some physics too
i have a degree in physics
and am a published coauthor in astrophysics
the best part is that the woman who invented the term ‘mansplaining’ (her name is Rebecca Solnit and i highly recommend her collection of essays) came up with it when she was at a party one night and a man tried to explain a book to her, and wouldn’t let her speak long enough for her to tell him that
she wrote the bloody book he was mansplaining to her
Sunshine and Shit Jokes 