Once I worked as an intern in the state capital. One of the representatives I worked for was this middle-aged guy. And he hated the tampon and napkin machines in the women’s bathrooms. Hated them. He insisted that they weren’t necessary.
I found out why after I’d been working there, oh, about a month. My period started suddenly, as it sometimes does, and I asked to excuse myself to go to the ladies’ room. He wanted to know why. I told him.
He started ranting about how lazy women were. How we wasted time. How we were so careless and unhygenic, and that there was no call for that. He finished by telling me that I certainly was NOT going to the ladies’ room and that I was just going to sit there and work. He finished this off with a decisive nod, as if I’d just been told and there could be no possible argument.
“If I don’t go,” I said in an overly patient tone, “the blood is going to soak through my pants, stain my new skirt that I just bought, and possibly get on this chair I’m sitting in. I need something to soak up the blood. That’s why I need to go to the bathroom.”
His face turned oatmeal-gray; an expression of pure horror spread across his face. He leaned forward and whispered, “Wait, you mean that if you don’t go, you’ll just keep on bleeding? I thought that women could turn it off any time that they wanted!”
I thought, You have got to be kidding.
Several horrified whispers later, I learned that he wasn’t. He actually thought a) that women could shut down the menstrual cycle at will, b) that we essentially picked a week per month to spend more time in the bathroom, i.e. to goof off, and c) that napkins and tampons were sex toys paid for by Health and Human Services. I didn’t know the term then, but he believed that tampons were dildos. Which was why he and a good number of his friends considered them luxuries.
And that’s how, at twenty, I had to give a talk on menstruation to a middle-aged married state representative who was one of my bosses. American politics, ladies and gentlemen.
FYI, I’M REBLOGGING THIS SHIT 3 MAYBE 4 TIMES A DAY FOR THE NEXT COUPLE OF WEEKS.
#RIGHTEOUSFIRE
when he said “who told you you could be a part of this? who gave you some “how to be black” starter kit?!“ i almost choked on my food. that’s when i knew this was going to be total destruction.
Put his bodybag in a bodybag!
HE LET THE LORD USE HIM. THE REAL GOD FLOWED THROUGH HIM. ANOINTED. TATTOO THIS WHOLE THING ON MY BACK.
^^^^ woooooow He was so embarrassed he lost all bowel control. Talk about a roast 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 we need to play this for all those who think they can just drop in the game. Honestly i wish Nicki could have brought it to Iggy like this. Riff raff, and all the rest of them fake ass wanna be white rappers that appropriate.
Reblog everyday!
REBLOGGING FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.
he really went the fuck in i don’t even know how somebody return from that
DEAD. GAME.
So glad I unmuted
He goin back to flippin burgers at Wendy’s on monday
Rapper Malik “Phife Dawg” Taylor died on Wednesday after battling a slew of health complications, including a 26-year fight with Type 1 diabetes that earned him the self-described moniker “the funky diabetic.” But as the hip-hop world mourns, it’s clear that Phife’s legendary music will live on. Questlove left an incredibly touching note on Instagram.
Stuff I'm fond of
***PICTURE SETS HAVE A BLUE ARROW NEXT TO THEM TO GO TO THE NEXT PICTURE***
Wanna Get To Know Me, Ask Questions.
ALL content on here is NOT mine
Hakuna Matata bitches.
