We’ve got lots of cool readings this week, ranging from confused MRAs who don’t understand cat-based satire to why Cosmo‘s sex positions for lesbians are ridiculous. But there’s a lot of bad news too, including Ray Rice’s two-fucking-game suspension, assaults at SDCC, and slut-shaming Nicki Minaj and the Bachelorette. (As usual, trigger warnings for pretty much everything apply. Read More This Week in Misogyny is Staging a Topless Protest
We’ve all probably watched way more romantic comedies than we’d like to ‘fess up to. Truth is, romantic comedy is my favorite genre. It was good enough for Shakespeare and Tennessee Williams (The Glass Menagerie is a romantic comedy, right?), so it’s good enough for me. One problem: as much as the When Harry Met Sallys of the world make me laugh and feel giddy and good inside temporarily, they fill my brain with an impressive amount of bullshit. I’ve had to unlearn a lot of this bullshit, especially in 2011. 2011 was a particularly difficult year for “friends with benefits” learning, and I’m not even talking about the creepily similar J Tims and Ashton Kutcher vehicles on the subject that both came out this year alone and were so rife with terrible advice and false ideals that I can’t even really address it further – so here is my attempt to set us straight on doing it with friends.