I DON'T GIVE A PISS!

“Hey, Pete, I’m out of toilet paper. Will you pass some over?”

“Sure…but don’t ask me for a tampon!” jokes the boy in the toilet stall next to mine.

It was 1987, I was 18 years old, and I lived in a college dorm with unisex bathrooms. We brushed our teeth, emptied our bowels, and washed our hair side by side in a gender blended atmosphere. Bathrobes and towels covered our private bits but real privacy was scarce. And it was all perfectly NORMAL.

Thirty years later, I cannot believe the political attention and moral outrage now being given to the people with whom we will or won't share our public restrooms. My comfort level or lack thereof is the same whether I am in this shared space with a strange man OR an unknown woman. In fact, the less known they are, the less self conscious I feel. Contrary to the intimate bodily functions taking place, this is not an arena for intimacy. 

Going to the bathroom is not a sexual experience (for most of us.) To those who worry about sharing this space with an opposite gender bathroom mate, I say: get over yourself! We go there for a lot of reasons: to pee or puke, wash our hands and wipe our butts, put on make up, take out tampons, smoke cigarettes. Generally speaking, we do NOT go to the bathroom to meet people. 

So stop creating controversy over this simple and daily necessity of life. I have plenty of other stuff to worry about besides who is taking a piss next to me. Like who didn't replace the toilet paper roll!?!

--Heather

Shaving for Non-Beginners

Starting at the age of 11, I have shaved my legs every day for the past 37 years.  This means that I have shaved my legs more than 13,500 times.

I have shaved my legs in a sink of cold water in the bathroom plane of a transcontinental flight. I have shaved my legs with no water while camping. I have shaved my legs in college dorm bathrooms, four star hotels, and at home in the dark when the power has gone out.

In other words, I am not new to the game of shaving my legs.

Lately however, it seems that the rules of shaving have changed. When I go to purchase a new razor, I am confronted with costly choices of five blade varieties. No longer do my hair follicles need to suffer the single blade assault that used to leave them reddened and irritated. But now, my razor seems to whisk away the hairs by TAKING THE SKIN WITH THEM! Weekly, I find myself sliced, diced, spotted in blood and no closer to the ultimate smooth shave than I was three decades ago.

So I say "Enough!" to the makers of these technologically advanced torture devices. Please leave my simple razor alone, and instead put your laboratory science dollars to work helping me get all that lotion out of the bottom of the lotion dispenser. I need it to relieve my skin just after shaving, and I need it now more than ever! Ouch! Fuck all you razors-on-steroids. I'm over it! FUYA!

--Heather

It's Not You, It's ME

HAPPY V-D From Fuck You All!

--Chocolate hearts by Heather

Selfie Hos

So we started another blog dedicated to our least favorite people.

SELFIE HOs.

Check it out: THE SELFIE WHORROR PICTURE SHOW.

I mean, come on guys, it's not cute, or sexy, or endearing -- it's fucking embarrassing when you post endless selfies of yourself on facebook.

GIVE IT A REST, ALREADY.

FUCK. YOU. ALL.

"Will soooooomebody pleeeeeeasse push me to MaaaacDonald's??" (screamed loudly: 7am)

It's 7am and I am barely halfway through my coffee. I am en route to work and hoping to get there before the next downpour while waiting for the bus outside of the 24th Street Bart.

And here she comes. "Will soooooomebody pleeeeeeasse push me to MaaaacDonald's?" Five or six times at full volume. She's across the street and halfway down the block but I still hear her. Everybody does.

She's in a wheelchair and has a good 200 feet to go, to get that egg mcmuffin at the glorious golden arches. She's pretty scrappy and missing shoes.

I exchange some awkward glances with other standbyers.

Uh... I don't think so. Thank god someone took care of it for us. Cause I know I wasn't in the mood, it was too early and cold for this.

But she had no shame. Go get it girl! And FUCK IT ALL, SHE NEEDED HER MAAAAC DONALD'S!

FUYA!

--Shawn

FUCK YOU ALL Coffee Mugs... And More!

FUCK YOU ALL is now swagalicious.

Coffee mugs. T-shirts. Shower curtains.
Duvet covers. Clocks. Rugs.

I mean, who doesn't need a FUCK YOU ALL throw pillow?????

WARNING! WARNING! NIPPLE ALERT!

Recently, I went to visit a friend in prison (yeah yeah, that's a different story.) Well versed in the institution's visitor dress code, I made sure my pants were not too tight, my shoulders were not exposed, and nothing was sheer. So imagine my surprise when I was flagged out of line and told I would need to go put on a bra because my nipples were showing. And by showing, I mean erect... because it was 42 degrees in there!

If you've read my previous post about my exceptionally small breasts, you already know that I don't own a bra. But I know that rules are rules so I returned to my car and put on another tank top with a sports bra built in. Back in line and ready to go but... nope, still showing. Back to the car for a second tank top and the added measure of folding them both bandage style over my teeny, tiny bosom. Trussed up like a Victorian maiden, I found it a little difficult to breath but dammit, those pesky nipples were squished into submission!

A week later, I'm increasingly annoyed by this. All over America, prepubescent girls are given the thumbs up to dress like strippers but I need to camouflage my body's natural reaction to the cold? Stories of shaming directed at publicly breast feeding mothers crop up daily while Hollywood stars gain fame with artificially increased breast size. Society (read: men in power) has co-opted female breasts and skewed their function so as to be for them -- taken out or put away as they see fit. But that doesn't mean we with have to go along with it.

So yes, sometimes you may notice my nipples reacting to the weather because that's WHAT NIPPLES DO. And if you don't like it, my nipples and I will poke your eyes out!

--Heather