Please don’t let this rancid garbage fire ruin the pool for you. I’m a real fat girl who swims laps in public. I do it for me. I walk around the pool deck like I own the place. Swimming is my favorite form of exercise and I love it too much to let people ruin it for me. And you know what? No one has ever given me a…

On Monday I will be 53. I have an appointment for a goal-setting fitness regime with an incredibly hot and ripped instructor. I make that lady in the photo look like an Olympic diving champion. I’m going anyway. I fucking don’t care anymore. I want to get healthy. Please keep living your life like a diving champion.…

I ride my bike to work every day, and I am certain that one day I’ll be a “Fat lady on a bike, haw haw” meme. I have a friend who’s about my size who does triathlons. You want to swim? You swim, and have a good time. If anybody mocks you (and I doubt they will), I am 100% in your corner.

Ugh, fucking THIS. You want to have kids and motherhood is an important part of your experience as a woman? Cool! But don’t shit on anyone who doesn’t want (or can’t have) that. Being a parent is not and will never be a part of my experience as a woman, and that doesn’t make my womanhood any less valid than someone…

I abhor it. So much. From experience, they will also happily shame any female who has never had children and/or has decided to remain child-free. They are also not very queer friendly, or perhaps are friendly only to a particular type of femme queer.

I HATE THE PHRASE BONE BROTH!! I HATE IT! JUST SAY BROTH!!

I hate this kind of ‘pro-women’ bullshit because if you spend that much time looking down on other women, you aren’t pro anybody. Not every woman can or wants to be pregnant, not every woman can or wants to breast feed, nobody needs to love their period...feminine hygiene products makes having a life possible, why the…

And have some unpretentious camping food like burgers, and bacon and eggs.

Yeah, let’s call it Bad-Ass Ladies Stone-Age Survival Camp. We’ll forage and ferment and maybe get to fight a bear to the death or something.

I’m making fun of women who can only get away from male dominated society by escaping into a 700 dollar a head camp where people sob over their belief in faeries. Like, if they had some microscopes and fungus spores I’d bite my tongue but seemingly the only respite for women is bizarre natural spiritualism.

I like how they’re eating congee like it’s some sort of health food. It’s basically the Asian equivalent of porridge except with rice. Congee exists because peasants weren’t given anything else to eat.

I think people who give advice like yours miss a little something — no one thinks the advice is bad, just very misplaced.

But getting drunk doesn’t put us at more risk of being raped.

But getting drunk doesn’t put us at more risk of being raped. The only thing that increases our risk of being raped is crossing paths with a rapist.

The message to drunk drivers is, “Don’t drink and drive” no one says anything to pedestrians and sober drivers, even though they’re the ones getting injured, because it isn’t their behavior that needs to change.

I’ve been “reveal my deepest secrets” drunk. I’ve been “more outgoing and chill” drunk. I’ve been “start crying any second” drunk. I’ve been “sure, I’ll sing a solo in this room of strangers” drunk. But I’ve never been “I’m going to rape somebody” drunk, because that’s just not the type of person I am.

If you got so drunk that a mugger noticed and decided to take advantage of that, a lawyer wouldn’t attempt to use your drunkenness to get the mugger off charges.

One reason we get so annoyed about this is because we can follow all these dumb rules and still get raped. I’ve got friends who’ve been raped drunk. I’ve got friends who’ve been raped sober. I’ve got friends who’ve been raped by strangers. I’ve got friends who’ve been raped by friends. People want to set up all these…

I got blackout drunk last weekend. Here are some things I apparently did in that state:

3 year postpartum and I’m still rocking my pregnancy body. The fascination with “fit moms” and how quick can a celebrity bounce back makes me angry and sad. My body grew a child I shouldn’t feel badly that it doesn’t and won’t ever, look the same.