Singer, songwriter, dancer, and this week’s #MeToo cover girl FKA Twigs, the woman whose initials don’t stand for anything, who ‘just wanted a selection of letters that sounded quite kind of masculine and strong,’ filed a lawsuit against career violent bad boy Shia LaBoeuf for sexual assault, battery, and emotional distress.
She met him in 2018 on a movie set, years after he became more famous for his execrable behavior than for his acting, and got involved in a relationship with him.
WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG???
Cue the tired Greek chorus of female voices asking the same damn question…
I t’s considered racist to say about other groups of people, “You all look alike to me.” But…what if they really do? Including your own tribe?
My roommate came home one afternoon — I worked, she was still in school — and said, “Oh my God, you wouldn’t believe these three girls I saw today. I literally couldn’t tell them apart!”
Seems three blonde, pretty little Barbie dolls sat together, with the same manufactured look — hair, makeup, clothes.
“Literally, Nicole, I couldn’t tell them apart. They were like little clones. …
I read many of stories about crappy male and/or white behavior, some threatening, some anger-provoking, some seemingly banal like the woman who was stopped by a creepy guy who wanted her to see his cute puppy.
I guess it would have made more impact if she’d been, like, twelve, but she was a grown-up in no danger. Some days you just don’t have much to write about!
Another pedestrian story detailed a woman accosted in a largely non-threatening manner by middle-aged drunk guys on a subway. …
We drove toward the lot where I’d parked my for an early-morning pickup by John, my boss. I felt no trepidation as we approached; we’d enjoyed a perfectly great day together at a tech expo in New York City. John didn’t mind driving in Manhattan like I did.
As we pulled up to the curb he put his arm around my neck. “How about a kiss goodbye?”
I pulled away. It wasn’t the WTF moment you might imagine.
“No, no, that’s not appropriate!” I stammered. “We need to keep it professional.”
“Oh, come on!” he said. “Just a little kiss!”
And you thought former-senator-now-Prez Joe Biden was bad.
Six women have come forward with multiple claims accusing New York Governor Andrew Cuomo of inappropriate touching, questions, and potential ‘trial balloons’ to see if they were amenable to a sexual affair.
The predictable accused’s response to the outrage began with the usual denials, and, as more accusers stepped forward, the customary slow pivot to reluctant admission that certain actions from the past may have caused unintended pain to others, followed by the venerable utterly unconvincing apologies.
One response one never hears from these touchy-feely Old Boys: Asking why the women didn’t…
John Oliver trended on Twitter the other night after someone pulled up a not-terribly prescient interview he'd done with Stephen Colbert in which he noted that Markle may not have really thought through marrying into the Royal Windsucks and that he wouldn't be surprised if she pulled out at the last minute. She says herself she had no idea what it was like. …
A high school friend took decades to learn how to not be abused.
I’m not sure she’s yet worked it all out, but her Facebook posts are a helluva lot more take-no-shit than I remember her at seventeen.
She was a year younger than I, and I saw her life laid out after my first semester in college.
We shared an invisible coat of Boy Repellent. Neither of us had dates, fantasizing about guys who’d never notice us.
What I didn’t share was her firmly entrenched low self-esteem. She married it. I never understood where it came from. She appeared…
Mike and I mixed it up a lot back in the day.
He was the sales manager of a small-town New England newspaper and I managed Classified Ads.
I joined after escaping the local AM radio station, managed by a mercurial man who personified the world an abused person lives in. Everyone walked on eggshells around him in a constant state of stress, wondering when he’d blow up at the slightest thing.
Frying pan, meet the fire: Turnover in the Classifieds department was more common than an apple pastry at the local Dunkin’ Donuts once the young department women (always…
It was in grade school when someone first called me a ‘retard’. I immediately grokked it was some sort of insult and I called stupid people ‘retards’ until my mother heard me and forbade me from saying it. Then she explained what a ‘retard’ actually was.
Turns out we had someone living on our street who fit the description — someone’s sorta slow older brother.
I thought it faded out with, like, you know, maturity, because I didn’t hear it so much anymore, but some years previously it made a comeback. Now it’s more common to hear someone call another…
She’s been bothering me since I read her story on social media a few weeks ago, detailing vicious abuse by a narcissistic psychopath.
I wish I could feel unadulterated compassion for her, but there’s an ugly underlying message I can’t stop thinking about.
Her tacit admission she aided and abetted child porn and the global trafficking supporting it.
She didn’t report him, of course. Because abuse.
I won’t fault her for not allowing police to charge him with assault and attempted murder when he pushed her down his staircase and broke her arm in several places. Nor, I guess, will…