3.26.2007
“Pro-Lifers” once again show their commitment to death
Almost exactly five years ago, I fulfilled my six-month probationary period at work and was finally eligible for health insurance benefits. One of the first things I did was skim the provider handbook to find the nearest Planned Parenthood so that I could make a date with a speculum. But Planned Parenthood wasn't listed in the provider directory. So, I called MCARE and asked if there was a PP near me that I could use for my gynecological needs, only to be told that MCARE doesn't cover PP for annual exams—only abortions. Pleased as I was to find that first-trimester elective and therapeutic abortions would be completely covered at the PP of my choice, I was a little dismayed to find that my insurance company didn't think that PP, the largest provider of women's health services in America, had any utility beyond abortion. In fact, they'd probably be shocked to find out that most PP affiliate offices don't even perform abortions (or if they do, only one or two days a week), focusing instead on boring stuff like pap smears and breast and cervical cancer screenings.
Apparently MCARE and Missouri's Governor Matt Blunt have something in common:
For fifteen years, Planned Parenthood of Southwest Missouri clinics in Joplin and Springfield have offered free breast and cervical cancer screenings as part of the state’s “Show Me Healthy Women” program. Now Governor Matt Blunt has announced that he will cut off all program funding to Planned Parenthood and redirect it to other health clinics. “Patients should not have to go to an abortion clinic to access life-saving tests,” Blunt declared. Refusing to fund cancer screening at the clinics, he said, “ensures women may access important preventative care without contributing to abortion providers’ goal of facilitating the destruction of innocent life.”
PPSM has been providing quality health care to poor women for years—breast and cervical cancer rates have been dropping in the United States, and that is thanks to increased awareness and access to regular breast exams and pap smears, both of which help diagnose cancer earlier making treatment more effective. With lack of access to health insurance, and lack of funds to pay for life-saving treatments out-of-pocket, low-income women are disproportionately affected by breast and cervical cancer and have a higher mortality rate.
Governor Blunt is correct though—no women should have to go to an abortion clinic to receive cancer screenings. Of course, no women should be prevented from going to such a clinic if it is is closer to home or already that women's primary provider of reproductive health services. Or just because she feels like it. Cutting off access to health care—particularly from the largest provider of women's health services in the country—just to prove your fetus-love doesn't really do much to prove your pro-life (no scare quotes) chops. In fact, it shows a stunning lack of regard for the lives of poor women, who are more likely to use Planned Parenthood than a private doctor.
Oh, did I mention that PPSM doesn't actually provide abortions?
"[Governor Blunt] was being dishonest," says Kellie Rohrbaugh, director of public affairs for Planned Parenthood of Southwest Missouri, who says her office received a fax alerting them to the funding cuts 45 minutes before the governor's press conference. "We asked the administrator of the program if women had complained about going to Planned Parenthood, and she said we'd been a very good partner. We could get people in quickly, have them seen, refer them to treatment quickly if they needed it."
Hmmm...efficient, friendly, providing affordable quality care to people who most need it. It's obvious why PPSM's funding was first on the chopping block—it's giving lie to the anti's claim to the pro-life banner.
[via]
Labels: Douchebags, Feminism, Fundies Say The Darndest Things, Keep Your Rosaries Off My Ovaries
annamaria at 7:56 PM
8.03.2006
Maybe I should get married...
...if only to have a convenient excuse to change my last name. After all, it's been uttered by both Michelle Malkin and Dawn Eden this week. I feel dirty.
Labels: Douchebags
annamaria at 7:24 PM
7.31.2006
How to successfully scare off potential mates.
Despite appearances to the contrary,
this, my friend Joe, is not a wanker.
this, my friend Joe, is not a wanker.
Rich sent me this email which apparently has been making the rounds lately. Poor, besotted Joe meets the lovely Kate at a friend’s party and later sends her an email to invite her out for a coffee date. It’s a pretty banal situation, one that most of us have been in; you meet a cutie at a party or bar, you’re a little tipsy and convince yourself that s/he is "the one" and you make an ass of youself in the process:
Hello Kate,
It's joe - we met at Andrew's party.
I hope you don't mind me getting your e-mail address from the e-mail that Andy sent to us all; it is a bit sneaky of me.
It was wonderful to meet you on Saturday, and I wonder if you would consider meeting me for coffee sometime; maybe at the Tate Modern?
So far, so good. I’m willing to overlook the grammar (just barely) and even the slightly stalkerish behavior that stems from culling the original invite to find the email address of your destined-to-be beloved. The invitation, however, is flawless: a coffee shop is the perfect location for a low-key first date, and the suggestion of the Tate Modern shows a level of sophistication you don’t expect from drunken college students.*
Had Joe ended the email with a quick “Hope to hear from you soon!” I trust that even the inestimable Miss Manners would have little to complain about. Unfortunately, Joe has taken making an ass of one’s self to a whole new level:
OK. This is where my common sense is telling me to stop, keep it simple and positive joe.
This is where Joe (joe?) should have listened to the little voice in his head that says, “Stop Joe, you’re making an ass of yourself." Unfortunately for Kate, Joe seems to have other voices in his head, and he couldn’t concentrate for the din.
And the probability of me listening to that voice? Experience has taught me that it is not worth putting up a fight; I will end up giving in to the part of me that never wants to find itself shaking its head and muttering 'if only'
Hopefully he won’t be listening to the voices that tell him to kill.
This is the part where I throw caution to the wind; the part where I listen to my heart and remember that I should live my life as an exultation and revel in the opportunity to try; the part where I refuse to apologize for who I am; the part where I trust that the lady I met on Saturday night is, as I suspect, able to see sincerity where others would see clich.
Clich, I assume, is cliché. A word that still doesn’t fit within the context of the sentence, but can at least be found in most English language dictionaries.
Here’s a word of advice for the boys: women hate it when you make assumptions about us. It’s a common thing you all do, and you need to stop. You meet a girl, you like her, you project all kinds of thoughts and opinions and assume that we are capable of reading a stalker letter and seeing through to the “nice guy” that lurks beneath. Stop it. Seriously. If you ever want to get laid, try actually talking to a girl and finding out what she’s really like and then determining if you like who she is. When you create personalities for us (working under the assumption, apparently, that we have none of our own), you’re only setting yourself up for disappointment. You’ll eventually become one of those MRA fuckwits who blame women for all of their problems, because if we had only just been the people you want us to be, rather than who we are, you’d be happy. Save us all the headache, guys; no one likes an MRA fuckwit.
I am fortunate enough to have been able to collect a number of special memories. They are memories of moments that made any struggle leading up to them worthwhile. They are memories of moments when I am struck by something so beautiful, time stands still and all of the ugliness in the world ceases to exist.
Your smile is the freshest of my special memories.
I told Rich that “special memories” sounds like a euphemism for “masturbatory material.” Another word of advice for the guys in the room: if you must conjure images of women you’ve just met while jerking off, please have the common decency of not telling us that’s what you’re doing. You might think we are flattered to have a starring role in your favorite fantasy, but we’re actually creeped out by it.
Regardless of whether we see each other again, I will use it as I do my other special memories. I will call on it when I am disheartened or low. I will hold it in my heart when I need inspiration. I will keep it with me for moments when I need to find a smile of my own.
I am unsure of all my motives for sharing this with you and, if I am honest, not ready to examine them too closely. However, I know that it makes me feel good to believe that maybe, if you are ever upset, knowing that I will be keeping your smile alive might help you through.
Oh for the love of Bill! First of all, if you’re not ready to examine your motives, Joe, don’t unload on the poor girl like she’s your therapist on call. Besides, I thought your motives were clear: email the hottie and get her to have a cuppa joe with Joe. Seems pretty clear cut to me. Apparently, though, there lurks beneath the innocent date invitation something more sinister, otherwise Joe wouldn’t be so conflicted. And Kate wouldn’t be so freaked out by the email that she had to forward it to the entire world—presumably to identify a possible culprit should she ever end up dead.
I still can’t get over the smile thing, though. I can imagine the situation right now: Kate is upset because she’s being email-stalked by some crazy kid she met at a party. She’s depressed and unable to smile, but takes comfort in the fact that Joe is “keeping [her] smile alive” while she's filling out the appropriate Personal Protection Order paperwork. Why, it’s almost as good as actually being happy because you’re not being hounded by a future-MRA fuckwit.
If you are half as intelligent and aware as I believe you to be, I am sure that you will find what I have written, in the very least, sweet.
If I am twice as lucky as I would dare to hope, you will find this note charming and agree to contact me and arrange a date.
And if you’re an evil bitch feminist like most women, you’ll call the cops.
Either way, I trust that your reply will be candid - you told me how much you value honesty.
Oh, her reply was candid all right. Forwarding Joe’s email with what could only have been “Check out this crazy kid who is stalking me just in case I end up dead,” is a pretty honest reaction.
One last thing, I promise that it is enormously rare for me to stray as far from sobriety as I managed on Saturday night.
I love this line. It's probably my favorite line in this entire pitiful, embarrassing email. Presumably, Joe and Kate felt some kind of connection at the party, but Kate felt the need to forward the email that he wrote while stone-cold sober to all of her friends. If I were Joe, I'd stick with drinking--it obviously works better for him.
Be safe. Joe
And this is what creeps me out the most! “Be safe,” Joe says…safe from what Joe? You’re the delusional fuck that’s sending her random stalker emails. Joe, you’re the one she needs to be kept safe from!
The British newspaper that published the letter has been inundated with comments in support of Joe. There is one of two possible reasons for this: either the Brits are so stiff-upper-lip emotionally repressed that they have bred out the ability to recognize sincere emotion (as opposed to clich), or I’ve lost the ability to determine when a Brit is joking. I still laugh at Rich’s jokes, though, so I’m thinking it’s not the latter.
So what is it, folks? Am I the evil bitch feminist, suspicious of even the most well-intentioned romantic overtures, or is Joe a crazy stalker deserving of public ridicule? And if I am an evil bitch feminist, you still love me, right?
*I have no idea how old Joe is, but his hamfisted use of really big words to sound impressive can only be the work of a college student.
Labels: Douchebags
annamaria at 11:38 AM
4.25.2006
Fool me — you can't get fooled again
Apparently, things need to be obviously satirical in order to bypass my inherent gullibility. Stupid StillFree douchebags.
Via Punkassblog.
And while we are on the subject of things I know to be hoaxes (sort of), check out the fabulous Derren Brown, mentalist extraordinaire:
And finally, an apology in advance of really, really light posting this week. Since Psycho quit, I've had to take on the responsibilities of her job as well as mine until we get a replacement for her. Not that her paranoid narcissism could ever truly be replaced.
Labels: Douchebags, Men We Love
annamaria at 7:43 PM
4.14.2006
What do you mean, there's no market for wrestlers on the speaking circuit?
Oopsies.
Seems the good folks in Utah need to get better PR contacts - or just some PR contacts in general?
Instead of booking Jon Stewart, fake-news anchor, they booked Jon A. Stewart, Illinois Republican candidate for Congress in 2000/motivational speaker/part-time pro wrestler, pictured above as the person "winning the match."
He even wrote the school back, asking if they were sure they had the right Jon Stewart. When the DaVinci Academy teacher corresponding with him told him he was indeed their man, the married father of three agreed to speak for free and booked an airline ticket and rental car for $421.Come on, people. You don't think Jon Stewart gets some green for speaking engagements?
And, further, I guess that this wasn't a quick error and that negotiations went on for months and the school still didn't realize they had the wrong JS.
Fucking Utah. What is it with that state?
(My fav.: In Salt Lake City, no one may walk down the street carrying a paper bag containing a violin.)
Labels: Douchebags
Anonymous at 10:20 AM
4.02.2006
Look at the diamonds!
I love YouTube! I stumbled across this video at Bitch|Lab about two men who are emphatically not gay (seriously not work friendly). Which reminded me of this video that Rich sent me ages ago: meet Bruce B, Canadian gangsta-extraordinaire.I'll fuckin' peel your banana back and mash your potato, boy!
You know this guy's tough, 'cause he's from Windsor. And that's, like, right across the river from Detroit!
Labels: Douchebags, The D
annamaria at 7:54 PM
3.30.2006
Does she lie about her gender, too?*
Ann Coulter has a lot of problems. Al Franken, who she may or may not have claimed to be friendly with, famously titled a chapter in Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them, “Ann Coulter: Nutcase.” Besides her Tourettes-like tendency to spew invective and hatred at every turn (because, apparently, wishing a terrorist attack on the New York Times building or the assassination of a Supreme Court Justice is all good and well in Ann’s world), Ann seems to have trouble with even simple facts like when she was born and where she lives.Palm Beach County officials are investigating Coulter's residence status to determine if she voted in the wrong precinct in February:
(H/t Crooks and Liars)Palm Beach County's elections supervisor has given the right wing's unofficial mouthpiece 30 days to explain why she voted in the wrong precinct.
In a registered letter scheduled to be sent to her this week, Coulter is asked to "clarify certain information as to her legal residence," elections boss Arthur Anderson said.
"We want to give her a chance," Anderson said. "She needs to tell us where she really lives."Or else? He could refer the case to State Attorney Barry
Krischer for criminal charges, Anderson said.
*Just to be clear, I'm not going to fall back on the incredibly sexist argument that Ann's pronounced larynx is evidence that she is a transwoman--frankly, I have too much respect for trannies to wish Ann into their ranks. Rather, I'm pointing out that Ann's hostility toward progressive causes clearly marks her as a traitor to her sex.
Labels: Douchebags
annamaria at 8:56 AM
3.29.2006
That's Sicilian
I'm sure by now you're aware that everyone's favorite orgy-enthusiast Justice Antonin Scalia made a rather inappropriate gesture outside of a cathedral in response to a journalist's questions about the separation of church and state. Yawn. Do we really care? Cheney told Pat Leahy to fuck off on the Senate floor, and while that was good for a few chuckles, political figures acting like humans (rather than the sainted beings they profess to be) is of little interest to me.Until my brother Giacomo sent me this article, wherein Scalia states that the gesture is much more innocent than the "up-and-coming 'gotcha' star" realizes:
To back his interpretation of the gesture, Scalia in his letter quoted from Luigi Barzini's book, "The Italians:" "The extended fingers of one hand moving slowly back and forth under the raised chin means 'I couldn't care less. It's no business of mine. Count me out."'
Far be it for me to contradict a jurist of Scalia's stature, but I call bullshit. See, I'm Sicilian too! And I know that while Barzini's description is true, it is the "moving slowly" that makes the gesture a statement of disinterest. If one were to flick their fingers under their chin (usually while saying vaffanculo), that would be the official dago symbol for "fuck off, asshole." As I said in a response to my brother's email--certainly we should know what that gesture means: we've seen our mother make it a million times!
----------------------
PS: Impress your friends! Learn more Italian hand gestures here!
Labels: Douchebags
annamaria at 7:28 PM
3.23.2006
Napoli likes it rough? He gets it rough.
click me to make me bigger!
We've been talking a lot about Napoil here at BOMT - Annamaria has brought up some good points inspiring us to take action and fight for the rights of women. But what good does it do? Republicans fight dirty. And now, so do we.
In case your memory needs refreshing in order to become full of fury, remember this?:
A real-life description to me would be a rape victim, brutally raped, savaged. The girl was a virgin. She was religious. She planned on saving her virginity until she was married. She was brutalized and raped, sodomized as bad as you can possibly make it, and is impregnated. I mean, that girl could be so messed up, physically and psychologically, that carrying that child could very well threaten her life.Well, some bloggers have a bit of a great idea - launching a grassroots campaign to:
Solution? Make a donation to Planned Parenthood in the name of our favorite backwoods friend, with the standard "thank you" note mailed to his house.
Don't have that address? I do!
6170 S Hwy 79
Rapid City 57702-8467
Home phone: 605-341-2370
Maybe you might know of some racy porn sites that will send you some fancy lit if you request it. Sometimes you can have stuff sent to friends (or others), too.
Updated by Annamaria: You can also send letters of support and/or make a donation to the Oglala Sioux Tribe to help with Cecilia Fire Thunder's attempts to open a Planned Parenthood on the Pine Ridge Reservation. Ginmar has all the info, which I am reprinting here:
Oglala Sioux Tribe
ATTN: President Fire Thunder
P. O. Box 2070
Pine Ridge, SD 57770
or
ATTN: PRESIDENT FIRE THUNDER
PO BOX 990
Martin, SD 57751
Also, I Blame the Patriarchy commenter Hedonistic found these phone numbers to contact President Fire Thunder and offer your encouragement and support: (605) 685-6005 and (605) 685-5597.
Labels: Douchebags, Fundies Say The Darndest Things, Keep Your Rosaries Off My Ovaries
Anonymous at 8:40 PM
3.14.2006
She's baaaack!*
Hey, remember how I told you about my coworker Psycho? The one who didn’t show up to work for three days because she had a tummy ache? After a severe talking to from my boss, she went on this amazing spree wherein she not only showed up to work every day, but even managed to get there on time. That lasted for a few months, and we all thought the worst was behind us.
I’m sure you can see where I am going with this. We were all wrong.
It is March 14th, which means that we have had exactly fifty working days since the beginning of the year. Psycho has missed fourteen of those. She’s also been late twenty times. Sometimes being late means showing up at 7:37 when you’re supposed to be there at 7:30. For Psycho, being late means showing up at 8:15.
She called in yesterday, claiming the flu. Then she called our supervisor to let her know that she wouldn't be in today either. This is the best part: when our supervisor asked if she had seen the doctor, Psycho told her that she didn't go because she had to go to school last night. Fuck! She's well enough to go to her little interior design** classes, but heaven forbid she get her lazy ass out of bed and make it to the job that pays for her fucking tuition!
Our computer systems have just been upgraded (which is another thing I've been bitching about around here), and for the next few weeks we're running dual systems to make sure that all the information we put in the new inventory system is backed up in the event that the whole thing crashes. In Psycho's absence, I've been doing her job, which means that I have to do my own job twice (dual systems), and then her job twice. I'm angry and stressed and I'm pretty sure that I am going to hurt her when she finally shows up to work.
Okay, end rant. Deep breaths. My doctor has already scheduled me for a stress test, and it wouldn't do to have a heart attack before then. In the meantime, I'm going to find a picture of her and tape it to my wall...as soon as I can scare up some darts to throw at it.
-----------------
*Isn't it funny that Psycho's absence corresponds with Jen's triumphant return to blogging? Hmmmm...
**No offense to interior designers. Some of my best friends are interior designers.
I’m sure you can see where I am going with this. We were all wrong.
It is March 14th, which means that we have had exactly fifty working days since the beginning of the year. Psycho has missed fourteen of those. She’s also been late twenty times. Sometimes being late means showing up at 7:37 when you’re supposed to be there at 7:30. For Psycho, being late means showing up at 8:15.
She called in yesterday, claiming the flu. Then she called our supervisor to let her know that she wouldn't be in today either. This is the best part: when our supervisor asked if she had seen the doctor, Psycho told her that she didn't go because she had to go to school last night. Fuck! She's well enough to go to her little interior design** classes, but heaven forbid she get her lazy ass out of bed and make it to the job that pays for her fucking tuition!
Our computer systems have just been upgraded (which is another thing I've been bitching about around here), and for the next few weeks we're running dual systems to make sure that all the information we put in the new inventory system is backed up in the event that the whole thing crashes. In Psycho's absence, I've been doing her job, which means that I have to do my own job twice (dual systems), and then her job twice. I'm angry and stressed and I'm pretty sure that I am going to hurt her when she finally shows up to work.
Okay, end rant. Deep breaths. My doctor has already scheduled me for a stress test, and it wouldn't do to have a heart attack before then. In the meantime, I'm going to find a picture of her and tape it to my wall...as soon as I can scare up some darts to throw at it.
-----------------
*Isn't it funny that Psycho's absence corresponds with Jen's triumphant return to blogging? Hmmmm...
**No offense to interior designers. Some of my best friends are interior designers.
Labels: Bitch Bitch Bitch, Douchebags
annamaria at 12:59 PM
3.12.2006
I like shit from Target, but I pay for my shit from Target.
sorry, couldn't find the mug shot.
A former Bush aide known for his "holier than thou" moralising has been charged with serial fraud in the latest embarrassment for a White House which has prided itself on its discipline.
[emphasis mine.]
Turns out that Claude Allen, top policy advisor to the Bush administration who bailed in February, should take some of his "holier than thou" advice to heart.
In January he was caught running my favorite ghetto scam - where you buy some shit, take it out to your car, go back in the store and get the exact same shit...but then, instead of taking it to the checkout line, you go to returns instead. Now, this is like the biggest 'hood move in the book. But, apparently, I guess that in his position as top domestic policy dude he wasn't really bringing in enough green to keep his family living at the level of luxury he wanted.
So he stole shit from Target.
Or, well. Maybe no.
Turns out he was pulling 161K/year, tied at the same level with the likes of Karl Rove, Andrew Card, and Stephen Hadley.
What's interesting, though, is the timing of it all. Caught on January 2 by some bright-eyed young kid in Montgomery. Resigned on February 9 "to spend time with family"? Apparently took about a month to figure out that they couldn't pay of the sanctimonious pricks from Target?
Described by some as "a notorious homophobe, a ferocious enemy of abortion and an opponent of safe-sex education who for years has been one of the AIDS community's principal enemies," I can't say I feel bad for the douchebag.
But I think by calling him that, I'm giving bags of douche a bad name.
Labels: Douchebags
Anonymous at 8:30 PM
2.15.2005
It's official...
Okay, my dear readers. Illness is gone. At least for now. Look for lots of posts today on things that I wanted to say in the last few days but was too sick (read: lazy) to write about.At any rate, just got this email forwarded to me regarding a former employer. I can't say that I'm too surprised, given the very quick turnaround of employees that PCMA suffered under his tenure, but I'm sure there's more to it. Can't say that I care too much, though.
FYI, to those not in the know, but PCMA is where I worked for the first 10 months that I lived in Chicago. Remember how happy I was all the time? I didn't think so.
Dear :
David Kushner, CAE, CMP, and I are jointly announcing today that David's contract as President & CEO of the Professional Convention Management Association (PCMA) will not be renewed. He is currently completing a three-year contract, and his tenure at PCMA will conclude on February 25, 2005.
...
David was a good fit for our association these past three years, and we appreciate his accomplishments. Organizations evolve, and the needs of PCMA are changing. The Board feels this is an appropriate time for us to bring on a new leader as we embark on our new strategic plan."
Labels: Douchebags
Anonymous at 12:29 PM
2.08.2005
No, I'm not still bitter...
This is almost insulting to those who have actually pulled themselves through college with no financial support. In addition, universities are asking students to donate money to a capital campaign when the quality of their educations are actually going down.Some universities, *cough* EMU *cough*, in recent years, have been raising tuition costs above and beyond the cost of inflation while also offering buyout packages long-time (read: expensive) faculty, in turn offering the students a less quality education for more money. All the while blowing money on useless monstrosities, and using student tuition money to boot!
"Eastern Michigan University used student tuition and fees without required state approval and failed to adequately monitor the costs of its new $5.3 million president's house, according to a state audit released this morning."
So forgive me first-students-of-the-family. It's nothing against you. But if I should see such a campaign on DePaul's campus my money will remain in my pocket.
Labels: Douchebags
Anonymous at 11:35 AM
2.04.2005
Ugly Girls: You don't stand a chance with this stud
Sorry to leave my reader wanting more. To make up for it, I've found the man who will certainly be in People's "50 Most Beautiful..." list next year. If not for his looks, but for his gentlemanly ways, and what I can only assume is a fantastic personality.A friend emailed this interesting story to me today, about a NYC councilman and his condemnation of the practices of the Standards and Ethics Committee, and the way it had handled a lengthy trial over charges that he created a hostile work environment for five women.
I'll cut to the chase and tell you the best part, though:
Jennings (D-Jamaica), has repeatedly said he was innocent and the women, who either worked for his office or the council, were too unattractive to warrant his attention.
Of course! How foolish to believe that any woman could possibly be the subject of sexual harassment. Of course it's only the super hot ones.
Upon reading this, I was intrigued. Surely this man must be a god among men. I had to see what this man looked like. Put a name to a (probably gorgeous!) face. Ready to swoon, ladies?
Please feel free to send your love (or hate) mail here.
Labels: Douchebags
Anonymous at 3:57 PM
