A social-justice worrier has her BVDs knotted because the Princeton men’s a cappella singers, the Tigertones, keep singing “Kiss the Girl” without her consent:
No matter how “great the tradition,” this canonical Tigertones tune should be struck from their repertoire. Its lyrics raise some serious issues. The premise of the song, originally sung in the Disney film The Little Mermaid, is that the male Prince Eric, on a date with the beautiful female Ariel, should kiss her without asking for a single word to affirm her consent. Despite the fact that an evil sea-witch cursed Ariel’s voice away, making verbal consent impossible, the song is clearly problematic from the get-go.
I can see where this girl is headed: thirty-one instead of twenty-nine.
It angers me that a natural impulse to kiss an attractive member of the opposite sex is condemned as “toxic masculinity,” a sophomoric opinion coming from an actual sophomore who, by doing so, is engaging in toxic feminism … with the support of the University.
Most of all, I grieve over the sad barren emotional lives of the young SJW generation. Very, very few experiences in life are as great as a welcome passionate kiss from the guy, especially if it’s unexpected. Denying yourself a rich emotional experience under the guise of … what? … a neopuritanical rejection of the “romantic and sexual liberties taken by men” is not only what Rosalind Russell must have had in mind when she said, “Yes! Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death!”
There are people who prefer kale to a bacon cheeseburger. It’s pretty much useless to try to change their minds.
In fact, it’s a virtual certainty that you’ve seen one:
House sparrows are everywhere humans are. But despite their suggestive species name, Passer domesticus, they aren’t officially domesticated. The bold, tiny, gray-and-brown birds are found on every continent except Antarctica, hopping around cities, pecking at leftover food on sidewalks, and sometimes chasing away native bird species. A new study suggests how these ubiquitous avians have adapted to living alongside humans: The evolutionary process of natural selection may have favored genetic changes that altered their skull shape and allowed them to digest starch — similar to domesticated animals like dogs.
So that’s what happened to that corn dog you dropped by the curb.
No one has attempted to scare me off WordPress.com; it’s not my primary site, but it has its uses, and I would not consider giving it up no matter what goofy stories I am told. If someone’s tried to scare you off, you should read what Ms Peters has to say.
It’s been almost a quarter-century since I was thirty-nine, same age as hometown homie Jack Benny, but I remember spending a lot of time thinking about being forty. So I can still appreciate this observation by Shailaja V:
When I make up my mind to learn something, I go all in. It’s almost as if this ‘learning demon’ possesses me and I fill myself to the brim with everything possible. Don’t worry, it’s a harmless creature.
I am not known for going all in. Still, at the age of 42 I got this insane idea that I ought to have my own little section of the World Wide Web, which barely existed the year I was 39. And, demonically enough, I still have it.
Far more polite than that big honker in the middle of your steering wheel:
A friend of mine hasn’t actually blown her top, but she’s definitely had it up to here:
Listen. Really, listen. I don’t care how much melanin content you’ve got, who or what you want to consentually rub your gooey parts against, or how you’d like to identify yourself. Are you useful? Can you make me a sandwich? Mow my lawn? File my taxes? Massage my feet while painting my toenails? Entertain me?
Then why for any deity’s sake should I give a flying flip about your well being? Because you feel discriminated against? Show me.
I’m a woman of color in flyover country. I’ve never been able to pass. I’m a survivor of many things I never deserved, but the sun just keeps rising so I better keep on.
The world has crapped on me and my own over and over and yet, we persevere. You, my dear snowflake, really can too. Yes, you too can own a tiny house in the suburbs with innumerable plumbing problems and mice so your children can go to the right schools and you’ve got the bragging rights of living in the right suburb.
What’s that? Your point is being missed?
So you’re a socialist? That’s awesome. What, exactly, are you contributing to society? From each according to his ability, yes? So, what are your abilities? What are you throwing into the pot for redistribution?
Oh! You have a bowl.
You really should read the whole thing.