Like a turducken of condescension

I’m not sure, but I think a man just mansplained another mansplainer to me, and now my head hurts.

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You can just fuck right the hell off, actually.

This was Facebook’s suggested post for me today, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m-a go find me a window to jump out of. Not because I’m dying alone, I’m fine with that, but because this bullshit exists.

Capture

Not today, motherfucker.

BOY, BYE. πŸ–•πŸΌ

The other day my mother told me she thinks he should be acquitted, because “It was the ’70s, that was just what happened.”

MY MOTHER.

But also, this particular conviction was for some 2004 shit, so you can fuck right the hell off, MOM. (I seriously might call her.)

I’d rather be fat than dumb.

An acquaintance posted on Facebook that a bad stretch of depression had caused her to gain back weight she’d lost, and some cheery fitness fucker commented “Awe, you can do it again with exercising and eatting healthier again! It’s mind over matter. Everything in moderation. Tell yourself you can do it! πŸ’ͺπŸ˜πŸ‘”

OK, obviously I don’t know your life, but also? Blow me a little.

Who doesn’t know about diet and exercise IN THEORY? Everyone KNOWS about it, bitch — you ain’t droppin’ science. Don’t talk to her like she’s an idiot like she doesn’t already feel bad enough. Ass.

And it’s not “mind over matter” if your mind is what’s telling you cake will fix things, and guess what, cake DOES fix things.

Finally, UGH, the “Awe” instead of “Aw” — I think we can all agree those people can’t be trusted.

As always, Shonda Rhimes said it best…