Ammo Grrrll
Since pronouns are of paramount concern to the Intersectional Loons, let me say at the outset that I will reserve she and her for ME (along with me, mine, and m’lady) since those are not only my “preferred” pronouns, but my only ones. Accurate ones. But so as not to give any offense to anyone else, I will refer to everyone else, never mind the singular or plural, never mind the verb agreement, as they/them. This will be bad grammar, but it will be deliberate. Grammar is racist anyway, like Math, Physics, Logic, and Being On Time.
Since only men who have “transitioned,” (either in thought or in deed) can be called “women” without attracting social media opprobrium, what to call those of us assigned to be female at birth now that we are grown-ups? I guess the votes are in because I read in what was evidently not a parody that we so-called women are best defined as “Bleeders.” I am not making this up, as my hero Dave Barry used to say quite a lot.
Well, if that don’t beat all. If there has to be a different definition of “woman,” why should the – what? — .03 percent — of alleged dysphorics rather than the 99.97 percent of happy born females have to change? Boy, in my neighborhood in small-town Minnesota, the kids rigorously enforced the notion that “majority rules.” This was true for deciding whether or not a basketball had gone out of bounds or whether we were going to play Monopoly or Clue. Not only are biological women the majority, we are the OVERWHELMING majority! Hear us roar!
Some wacky woman who still had an intact reproductive system (but, if memory serves, no breasts) had declared theyself to be a man and got theyself pregnant by a toxic yet fertile male. They went ballistic at being put in a “Maternity” Ward when it was clear that they was fixin’ to be “the first man to give birth.” By all means, let’s make an entirely different ward in every hospital in America called the “Paternity” Ward in which one mutilated woman might give birth every ten or 20 years. Totally worth it to avoid hurting they’s feelings. Have you ever heard of anything more selfish and narcissistic in your life? I didn’t see whether they had assigned this baby to be a boy or a girl, but I shudder to think of its life going forward.
Oh, make no mistake. I have no problem at all saying “Gay.” Gay, gay, gay. The couple mentioned above contains a man and a woman pretending to be a man, which does not equal “gay.” Sorry. See, I know the difference because I know ACTUAL gay people.
I know three lesbian couples who have either adopted a baby, or one of the women had children before she switched teams, or one or both of the women got artificially inseminated. The children I know from these particular relationships seem loved, happy and well-adjusted. But – and this is pretty important – nobody with a functioning uterus and ovaries was PRETENDING to be a man. They were just two women, two mommies, raising children. Ho hum. Probably many readers know of such couples. Two men raising a child is considerably rarer but not unheard of, even ones who are not on an endless Paid Maternity Leave while the supply ships stack up in the harbor.
But, let’s be all sciency here and point out that Pete and his husband did not biologically produce their babies. NO man EVER in the history of the world has produced a baby with only the help of another man. Period. End of story. You can’t make me say otherwise, and if we know what’s good for us, NOBODY would say it. That way lies madness and entropy. RESIST. DO NOT COMPLY.
“Bleeders” not only sounds icky, but is wildly inaccurate. I suppose it is pointless to mention that – praise God! – I haven’t bled for almost 20 years now, except when I fell into a cactus on my front patio. So I guess I am for sure not counted as a woman anymore. We former Bleeders got paid just 76 cents for every dollar men got, doncha know, so I am really looking forward, as a non-Bleeder, to getting a big fat raise. (Or a raise that is fat, but not shamed, and on the cover of Sports Illustrated.)
I just saw a clickbait headline that claimed that Bleeders who quit bleeding for good before they are 45, may have an increased tendency to dementia. Boy, dodged a bullet there. But it may help explain a whole bunch of suburban Karens.
I was eleven years older than that and despaired that I would be packing tampons for the Memory Care Unit when the time came in my 90s. This may be TMI, but we’re all adults here, and one of God’s little jokes is that the earlier you start the LATER you finish. Seems fair, and I started at not quite 12. That’s 45 years x 12 months or 540 periods (minus the 9 while pregnant) to produce one child. Another splendid example of the overkill of Nature, like the 100 milion gazillion sperm competing to take that egg to the Prom. God likes to tip the odds in favor of His first commandment to “Be fruitful and multiply.”
But if I was unenthusiastic about that uniquely female burden, it was before I knew about the upside of avoiding or at least delaying dementia. So I expect to avoid dementia well into my 90s as long as I avoid listening to a Kamala Harris speech or pretty much ANY word salad from any member of this deranged and just plain stupid Administration.
It’s not all bad, adjusting to being a Bleeder. Think of the employment opportunities for lyricists to update the wacky songs of the past that just went right ahead and assumed people’s genders? Romance – to say nothing of sanity – is highly overrated.
“I Want A Bleeder, Just Like the Bleeder That Married Dear Old Sperm Donor”.
“Birthing Persons, Don’t Let Your Offspring Grow Up To Be GenderFluid Keepers of Cows.”
“Up Against the Wall, Redneck BirthingPerson.”
But, wait! There’s more! We have a Harvard-educated Bleeder of Color joining the Supreme Court who never learned either in high school or Harvard about XX and XY and is just plain stumped when asked to tell the Committee “What is a woman.”
And then Judge Jackson went on to say the reason they can’t define “woman” is that they “is not a biologist.” But, but, but we are assured that Biology doesn’t even enter into the picture! If a guy parades around a locker room with all they’s junk bouncing about and SAYS they is a Bleeder, well, then they is, even though they has never bled a day in they’s life and never will.
To all the Leftie Maniacs in the world: are we at maximum crazy yet? If not, I think I will just take a very long nap until you tell me we’re at the peak. I’m not sure I can take much more.
- Susan Vass
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