Here it is. THE rant.
So yesterday, my stepdad had a phone call from work From one of his female employees, claiming that she had been sexually assaulted by the manager.
According to her, he came up behind her, grabbed her tits, then shoved his hand down her pants and told her he wanted to see if lesbians smelled the same.
And my stepdad DEFENDED HIM.
She called him, very upset understandably, and he said he would support her whatever she decided to do, but he said he "doubted that it was malicious." Excuse me, but how in the name of fuck can sexual assault NOT be malicious? How can you think this guy is anything but unworthy of human existence scum? How is that in any way appropriate?
Then my stepdad started the argument that she was "quite flirty and liked to mess around the lads". And that changes it... how? So because she's a bit of a flirt that makes it ok to assault her? Because she's a lesbian that means she doesn't like men anyway so she won't care?
And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, my mum said something along the lines of "She's a lesbian. She doesn't understand the effect that that kind of behaviour has on men." Right. Because heterosexuals are one big mystery to queers, right? ::headdesk::
I will be sure to draw their attention to
MY SHORT SKIRT
My short skirt
is not an invitation
a provocation
an indication
that I want it
or give it
or that I hook.
My short skirt
is not begging for it
it does not want you
to rip it off me
or pull it down.
My short skirt
is not a legal reason
for raping me
although it has been before
it will not hold up
in the new court.
My short skirt, believe it or not
has nothing to do with you.
My short skirt
is about discovering
the power of my lower calves
about cool autumn air traveling
up my inner thighs
about allowing everything I see
or pass or feel to live inside.
My short skirt is not proof
that I am stupid
or undecided
or a malleable little girl.
My short skirt is my defiance
I will not let you make me afraid
My short skirt is not showing off
this is who I am
before you made me cover it
or tone it down.
Get used to it.
My short skirt is happiness
I can feel myself on the ground.
I am here. I am hot.
My short skirt is a liberation
flag in the women's army
I declare these streets, any streets
my vagina's country.
My short skirt
is turquoise water
with swimming colored fish
a summer festival
in the starry dark
a bird calling
a train arriving in a foreign town
my short skirt is a wild spin
a full breath
a tango dip
my short skirt is
initiation
appreciation
excitation.
But mainly my short skirt
and everything under it
is Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
I hate my stepdad. Like, an actual, intense hatred.
According to her, he came up behind her, grabbed her tits, then shoved his hand down her pants and told her he wanted to see if lesbians smelled the same.
And my stepdad DEFENDED HIM.
She called him, very upset understandably, and he said he would support her whatever she decided to do, but he said he "doubted that it was malicious." Excuse me, but how in the name of fuck can sexual assault NOT be malicious? How can you think this guy is anything but unworthy of human existence scum? How is that in any way appropriate?
Then my stepdad started the argument that she was "quite flirty and liked to mess around the lads". And that changes it... how? So because she's a bit of a flirt that makes it ok to assault her? Because she's a lesbian that means she doesn't like men anyway so she won't care?
And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, my mum said something along the lines of "She's a lesbian. She doesn't understand the effect that that kind of behaviour has on men." Right. Because heterosexuals are one big mystery to queers, right? ::headdesk::
I will be sure to draw their attention to
MY SHORT SKIRT
My short skirt
is not an invitation
a provocation
an indication
that I want it
or give it
or that I hook.
My short skirt
is not begging for it
it does not want you
to rip it off me
or pull it down.
My short skirt
is not a legal reason
for raping me
although it has been before
it will not hold up
in the new court.
My short skirt, believe it or not
has nothing to do with you.
My short skirt
is about discovering
the power of my lower calves
about cool autumn air traveling
up my inner thighs
about allowing everything I see
or pass or feel to live inside.
My short skirt is not proof
that I am stupid
or undecided
or a malleable little girl.
My short skirt is my defiance
I will not let you make me afraid
My short skirt is not showing off
this is who I am
before you made me cover it
or tone it down.
Get used to it.
My short skirt is happiness
I can feel myself on the ground.
I am here. I am hot.
My short skirt is a liberation
flag in the women's army
I declare these streets, any streets
my vagina's country.
My short skirt
is turquoise water
with swimming colored fish
a summer festival
in the starry dark
a bird calling
a train arriving in a foreign town
my short skirt is a wild spin
a full breath
a tango dip
my short skirt is
initiation
appreciation
excitation.
But mainly my short skirt
and everything under it
is Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
I hate my stepdad. Like, an actual, intense hatred.