Thoughts from the ammo line

Ammo Grrrll is not seeking higher office and therefore can identify STUPID AND DANGEROUS RULES FOR GIRLS. She writes:

The awesome Heather Mac Donald had her usual brilliant take a few weeks ago on Joni Ernst’s disappointing objections to Neomi Rao’s judicial confirmation based on her college writing about what women can and should do to protect themselves from sexual assault.

As I understand Senator Ernst’s objections, the new rule is: Under no circumstances should girls and women EVER have to assume any responsibility for decisions that could adversely affect them. NOTHING is girls’ and women’s fault. EVER. GOT THAT?

There is no such thing as women actually in charge of either their decision-making or their appearance or their bodies in general. There is only toxic masculinity (Def.: ANY masculinity), and an entire pathetic sex of helpless victims. We have come full circle from the Victorian fainting couch with a brief pit stop in the “I am woman, hear me roar” and Xena Warrior period to the current need for a Safe Room, Play-Doh, and Twitter Mob to make sure nobody dares to step out of line.

If that Twitter Mob can make a tough and righteous icon like Martina Navratilova “apologize” for stating the obvious fact that men pretending to be women are going to win every athletic contest with actual women, then who among us dares to question?

Further, there is no statute of limitations on the fall-out from any bad decisions. Girls who had drunk sex in, say, 1962, can go in front of television cameras with a fleet of sleazy lawyers in 2019 and cry about what happened and name names – or even make them up! — and every male named by 50-year-old memories or fabrications will be called in the press “credibly accused.” Unless the males are Democrat, black, Muslim, or any combination of these things. On the Intersectional Scorecard, more is always better.

Did your Mama or some old busybody candidate for a judgeship (back when she was in college) advise you not to get black-out drunk when you are on a date? Well, what do THEY know? You do not need to be careful at all. It is really empowering to drink till you throw up in your purse. Which actually happened to a guy friend of mine on a first date. There wasn’t a second date…and oddly enough, he didn’t feel like having sex, forced or consensual, with a vomiting woman. But rest assured, ladies, whatever ensues after that will in no way be any part of your fault. That’s the key takeaway lesson here: you are not responsible.

As a cis-normal, heterosexual woman of the female persuasion who identifies as a free adult, I am so appalled by the notion that we cannot decrease our chances of a bad sexual outcome by our smart and responsible behavior that I need a “comfort item,” possibly a .45.

Are people too stupid to live? Do not go into a hardcore biker bar in a Hooters-style outfit unless you want to attract attention. What other reason would there even BE for wearing that outfit? If you do want to attract attention, fine. Own it. Does it mean that you “deserve” to be groped or, God forbid, assaulted? Of course not, and those things happen to be illegal. But, seriously, why are you there wearing that outfit? Are you looking for a “boyfriend”? Do any of these guys look like husband material to you?

See, women talking amongst themselves recognize reality and even celebrate it. Almost every woman in America has a pair of sexy high heels she and her girlfriends refer to candidly as “____ me” shoes. When being honest, women know absolutely that some outfits have predictable consequences. Which is precisely why they buy and wear them!

Does that mean that you are “asking for it”? Well, that depends on whether or not you were. In almost any major city, you can find women wearing ridiculous clothing like fishnet stockings, leather boots, a loin-cloth length skirt, and a low-cut top. They stand on street corners advertising their bodies for sale. In fact, that outfit is so iconic as “asking for it” indeed, “soliciting” for it, that it is often used as an adorable Hallowe’en costume at adult parties. So, if YOU look like a hooker, you are going to send a “mixed” message. At best.

Here’s some more unwanted and unwelcome advice:

Do not go to a man’s hotel room, even to “get some papers” or “see what’s in the mini-bar” or any other pretend reason. A hotel room is actually a bedroom. If you go there, men will assume you know that and have agreed to do one of the two things most people do in bedrooms. One of them is sleep. Do you think the man who has convinced you to go to his room just wants a little nap?

There is no doubt that Bill Cosby is one sick creepy puppy. Here was a television icon, JELLO spokesman, groundbreaking black actor, rich as Croesus, who either could have paid professionals like Tiger Woods did, or could have convinced any number of women to “date” him. He also had a stunningly-beautiful wife. But evidently what jerked his bobber was to drug and assault comatose women. Yikes! Now, the sheer number of accusers was certainly daunting. From my observation on #MeToo in all its forms, and what I know about people who love to hop on the victim bandwagon, especially if there’s a lucrative payday, I’m going to guess that a certain percentage of his accusers are lying. But what of the others, some of whom tried to press charges decades earlier?

Almost every case where details were released involved the accuser being alone with this icky married man – either in a hotel room or in his own home with the wife nowhere in sight! – often allegedly in search of “help” with or “advice” on the woman’s potential career. And, oh yeah, always with alcohol involved.

The popular feminist trope that women comics were somehow “held down” by powerful men is the usual poppycock peddled by the talentless and the envious. I got lots of help from men in my comedy career. We met in restaurants and offices. There was neither “hanky” nor “panky,” although club owner Dudley Riggs (now in his 90s, bless him) did once offer me his clean white hanky to mop my brow when we had extremely hot Sri Lankan curry in a restaurant. Does anyone have Gloria Allred’s cell? Maybe there’s still a chance that that was some kind of micro-aggression. A WHITE hanky? Clear dog whistle.

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