Apparently pussy makes some people bat shit crazier than others, for a certain group of lesbians the pink ruff ratchets up a high level of full-blown insanity, similar to the levels of irrationality seen only in rat-tailed crackers tweaking that next meth fix.
Thanks to my buds at Counting Cats, I’ve been introduced to the special world of a few hardcore, lesbian feminists who blog at A Room Of Our Own. Isn’t that original? This Virginian ladies club make no apologies for their clear stance on hating every last man who dares to breathe, comfortably sweeping all women who don’t hate men into their odd folderol of rancid derision. Sleeping with men is a big misogynist no-no in their book. Liking anything that owns a dick is basically verboten in their world. Rape and consensual straight sex (one in the same by their blazing crazy lights) get a lot of word time on this site.
Not too much girl on girl action happening in their special room, these women seem so crankily focused on the abominations of vaginal penetration that the art of fine dining is completely neglected on their pages. These women rage all over the place, convinced a barrel full of deadly misogynistic patriarchy is waiting around every corner.
Oh, happy me, I’ve found parody central!
Let’s get to the meat of their ripeness with actual juicy quotes, shall we?
“You see, any woman who complies with male demands in the expectation that males will reward her for it does so at the expense of women who do not comply – whether because they have no interest in complicity, they can’t afford to comply, or they are simply not capable of bringing themselves within male standards regardless of money. So, when a woman who did her best to play the game is hit with the reality that males are liars who never had any intention of giving her their approval, all it means is that she becomes more aware of her place amongst the rest of us – that is, those of us from whom she was trying to distinguish herself with all her complicity.”
“It’s always sort of irritated me to see women expound on the horribleness of men raping each other in prison. So many women seem to feel a compulsion to declare their opposition to its occurrence and their sympathy for the victims, despite the fact that males, as a class, including the ones being raped in prison, have no such compassion for raped female people. I’m not saying that if males did care about female people being raped that I’d give any more of a shit about their being raped in prison. I’m just saying that male nonchalance in the face of female people being raped makes all too stark the masochism of female people concerned about male-on-male rape.“
“Femaleness cannot be enhanced by maleness, only denied, suppressed, and degraded, lessened. The master’s tools inhabit our minds and the realm of our physical lives. The lack of male presence or influence in one aspect of our existence is no indication of its absence in another. And I don’t think that a tool forged by males or in their likeness is any less male when wielded by women.“
“You see the male-born privilege in the comment don’t you? The comment should have really been written as such: “If you bitches don’t suck our dicks, we will keep dismissing you and coming here and telling you that we are dismissing you, even though you fucking bitches have already dismissed us. Damn it! We should have the power, not you, we were the fuckers born with the dicks and being all benevolent and shit and threatening to cut them off.”
“You know what really gets in the way of the practice of lesbian separatism? Males do. Males, their hatred for female people,and the concepts (like gender), institutions (like money), and violence they’ve used to maintain their dominance are what hinder lesbian separatism…Lesbian separatism cannot be sold or taught to women invested in males, women who are merely looking for an alternative to hetero engagements for themselves right now, for the time being, or“until the males are different.” Lesbian separatism isn’t a response to the particular conditions of the here and now; there have always been lesbian separatists, female people who feel innately a kinship with all other female people as being distinct from males, and who are aware and repulsed by the parasitism of maleness.”
“I’d said in a recent post that straight women, in particular, need to believe that there are only trivial distinctions between males and females. Let me elaborate. If, from a lesbian separatist perspective, all heterosexual intercourse is, only and always, male use/abuse of female bodies, then it follows that whatever female agency straight women desire to claim in their sexual experiences is entirely irrelevant (I would argue nonexistent, but since it would be irrelevant anyway, there’s no need). There is only the satisfaction of male sexual/reproductive demands (both male heterosexuality and male homosexuality), on the one hand, and the expression of female desire in the forms of lesbianism and masturbation, on the other.”
I’m not giving distinct links because you can follow every post from their home page in chronological order. I didn’t run through months of back posts cherry picking outrageous material, these ladies run a strong suit every day of the week. Be warned, if you choose to comment on their site they will set upon you with bloody tooth and nail. My good fellows at Counting Cats found that out in quick order, those nice men still chose to blogroll that band of demented broads. Cheeky bastards.

I have seen that lesians generally detest gay men as much as the hetero type. And although gay men try to return the favor, it is more with a resigned revulsion. They consider lesbians to be the unhappiest people on earth, and that is something the occasional lesbian will volunteer also. But why is that?
Most groups in terrible circumstances develop a keen humor about it, but no humor exists in this one. Could be it’s not their circumstances that are terrible.
They might not breed and inflict their insanity on poor children, but somehow they manage to pop up out of nowhere.
You know the type…older, bitter, unattractive creatures that spew bile over everything around them. I can almost feel sorry for them to the same degree that I almost find them funny in that they are their own caricatures.
35 years in Northern California have made it apparent to me that Lesbianism has almost nothing to do with female homosexuality and everything to do with hating the male gender.
I’m surprised people are still discovering this, frankly…
You know, ladies, it always seems to be the bulk of the pro choice marchers who wave their coat hangers in staged anger for the cameras to see. What the people watching them at home see is this: a buncha over the hill lesbians demanding the right to have a medical procedure they will never need.
I say we buy them their own planet and watch them freeze to death in the dark.
No, wait. I couldn’t do that. We let them get really hungry, cold and miserable. Really, really hungry cold and miserable. Then send a bunch of men down to rescue them. Men with generators, refrigerators, washing machines, trucks, cars and other tools of the patriarchy. But first they have to say sorry. Then they have to say “thank you”.
Well, a female person can dream, can’t she?
You homophobes! Or lesbophobes. This makes you gay-ist. Frankly their hideous hateful rants sound like that hideous hateful genital gazing retarded mysoginist ‘Roissy’. Why give them airtime.
Because they’re hilarious.
They’re pathetic. Like white supremists or race baiters.
“…has almost nothing to do with female homosexuality and everything to do with hating the male gender.”
Thier self-loathing is palpable.
Someone once explained, “Imagine being a guy your whole life and one morning you woke up as a woman.”
It kinda shone light on the resentful anti-male mentality.
I’d rather have a rabid weasel living in my shorts.
Oh, wait…
“Hey, Lance, you pig!”
“Yes, My Queen.”
“I hate all men.”
“Oh. Ah.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“Yup. Nothing that you ladies say about men surprises me any more.”
“I think I’ll become a lesbian.”
“Okay. May I watch? I could even give some coaching from the sidelines, as it were. Like, ‘Tiny circles. Tiny circles!’ Or, ‘Rah Rah Sisboombah. Poke it in her trapdoor. Yah Yah Yah.’ Like that.”
“Hey, I’m not kidding. I’ve had it with your oppressive male hegemony.”
“So, you’re going to replace it with oppressive FEmale hegemony.”
“Oh, ha ha. WE’RE gonna wear the pants now.”
“Make sure you get pants with a built in strap on. Saves time. I think they sell ‘em at Sappho’s Nips ‘n’ Nethers, next door to Al’s Guns ‘n’ Drapes. You wimmyn sound like Helen Reddy–only lots more retarded.”
“We don’t NEED men!”
“Fine with me, Flannel—assuming that’s your new name. When the building catches on fire and you’re trapped on the third floor, you and your wimmyn pals can get your own asses out.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning that this man-angry crap works only in a society that’s made your lives so easy that you’ve nothing to bitch about except boredom. Oh, here’s a tube of KY to get you started. By the way, you’ve got the wrong end of that cigar in your mouth.”
There is a difference between lesbians per se and radical man-hating lesbians.
I’m certainly not going to judge my fellow male heterosexuals by the practices of a Roman Polanski, a Ted Kennedy, a John Edwards or a Mark Sanford.
And therefore I won’t judge all lesbians by some nasty bull dykes or self-hating academic womyn types.
Plus they’ve dramatically improved porn in my lifetime.
I was wondering if I was gonna find a POV like mahons’, above. There IS a difference between plain ol’ lesbians and the virulent psychotic screamers. I have a friend of over 30 years standing who switched teams 25 years ago and she doesn’t hate men at all… nor does her “wife.” (quotes used coz I really don’t know what the proper term is) We can still get together after all this time, have a few beers, tell war stories, and reminisce, all without a single word about patriarchal oppression.
But yeah: the radicals require mocking.
These women don’t believe these things because they’re gay or feminist. This brand of crazy lies far outside of the box of most (99%) lesbian or feminist thinking.
It’s just some bizarre shit that definitely deserves mocking.
Someone once explained, “Imagine being a guy your whole life and one morning you woke up as a woman.”
Well, I would havebe a lesbian because guys are nasty, on the hand, multiple orgasms. It always seemed to me my girlfriend got to enjoy things on a whole other level, and it would be interesting to see how the other half gets to experience things. Plus, I would have my own Boobs. SCORE!
Dear Old Nietzsche had his own perspective on the matter:
“Women learn how to hate as they forget how to charm.”
Lance’s “trapped by fire on the third floor” comment reminded me of the case of the lesbian appointed to be Minneapolis Fire Chief. She got the job because the mayor had passed over two lesbians to appoint a white male as police chief, and it was time to pay back the gals.
This is a link to the story.
The new fire chief promptly managed to generate three lawsuits against the city from lesbian firefighters who were sexually harassed–by her. After all, if you’re a lesbian with a thing for spurting hoses, Minneapolis is your town: it has by far the highest percentage of women firefighters.
Oh, and Daphne: they do breed. Not naturally, of course, but they do have babies. Ever hear of “lesbian spaghetti?” It refers to the tangle of custody arrangements lesbians generate when they do AI pregnancies. Some of the kids have three mommies.
God help the male children, though.
Lots of mAnger on that website. It’s like Rosie Odonell on steroids.
The reference to “lesbian spaghetti” reminds me of an earlier joke:
Q. Why are women like spaghetti?
A. They’re straight until you get them wet.
Further, deponent saith not.
CG, that was the funniest thing I’ve read in an easy month. I barked out loud, sweet man.
Gordon, your observation reminded me of a radical, and I mean RADICAL lesbian feminist I met years ago. Her sister had been killed by her boyfriend a few days after giving birth, and a court awarded our Lady of Anger the baby boy. She was besotted by the little guy, gently stroking a his hair and spooning home-pureed treats into his mouth as she railed about the intractible, evil nature of each and every man ever born.
She stopped talking to me when I asked her if she was going to have the boy surgically altered, or simply put him to death about the time he started growing a beard.