Laughs for the Ladies

Yes, even feminists make jokes-- (when we aren't, you know, burning their brassieres, counting arm pit hairs, or playing bullseye with pictures of penises in their spare time)--and here are some of them i dug up from a site (appropriately) titled, Feminist Jokes.



They vary from har-de-har-hars to definite knee-slappers, but here are some of my favorites. A drum roll please?:



1.) Q: Why do men like BMWs?

A: They can spell it.



2.) Q: Why do men name their penises?

A: Because they don't like the idea of having a stranger make 99% of their decisions.



3.) Q: What's a man's idea of helping with the housework?

A: Lifting his legs so that you can vacuum.



4.) Q: Whats the difference between a man and E.T.?

A: ET phoned home.



5.) Q: Why is psychoanalysis a lot quicker for men than for women?

A: When it's time to go back to his childhood, he's already there.



6.) Q: What did God say after he created man?

A: "I can do better than this" and he made woman.



7.) Q: What's the difference between a bar and a clitoris?

A: Most men have no trouble finding a bar.

I know we've got Rush Limbaugh and all of the youtube assholes to make fun of the Femininazis, but this time, guys, the joke is on you.

Slick 70's Slogan

Femspo for the day:

"77% of anti-abortion leaders are men. 100% of them will never be pregnant."

Perfect.

What Howard Wants You to Know

I know that as a feminist, i'm supposed to let him have it. But I think Howard Stern is trying to make two very important statements:




1.) Yes, white men can have geri curls.


and:


2.) When you look like the unfortunate-looking love child of Slash and Keith Richards you are bound to have a successful career as a "media mogul".


I also understand that were it not for the Howard Stern Show, his current fanbase of ball-scratching Frat Boys with names "Donny" who drown their post-grad grief in an ice cold Budlight while Green Day blairs from the stereo in the background--these All-American guys would have nothing to watch. No where to go. No way of bonding with their fellow ball-scratching cavemen. No way of being entertained.



And isn't that the motive behind everything Howard-esque?


So when he features pseudo-lesbians who spend an entire ten minutes playing tonsil-hockey, he's trying to entertain you. And when he's interviewing some volleyball-titied ex-porn star with an I.Q of akin to a small hamster, he's trying to entertain you. When he pries his female celebrity guests for sex-life secrets and they make up outlandish stories about what turns them on for the sake of showbiz, both him, and her, are trying to entertain you. And of course, when he volunteers women for humiliating, dehumanizing acts (you know, like being handcuffed to a bed, legs spread-eagled, while being tickled with a feather) he's trying to--for the love of the gerri curl!-entertain you.


And he's trying to convey that message quite loud and clear.


But I hear you, Howie. I hear you.