Well, well, well. It seems the staff of The Frisky is growing. They added another pretentious chick with a hyphenated name (Amelia McDonnell-Parry, meet Winona Dimeo-Ediger — could you two possibly sound WASPier?). They added someone named Mary Joan Cunningham (ugh) who penned a piece called, “My Angry Vagina.” One of my favorite new additions to the staff is this chick named Jennifer Garam. She writes crap about how her life is just like a TV show (!!!) and how it’s dangerous to flirt via text messaging. Her articles, “First Time For Everything: Getting Naked In Class” (which is just the most overshare-y, I’m-writing-this-because-I-want-to-brag-about-it thing ever) and “How I Stopped Falling For Guys Who Failed To Mention They Had Girlfriends” (I can write this article in one sentence: stop being an idiot) are brilliant.
But the best is Rachel Rabbit White. Poor little Rachel RABBIT White. Yeah, I think that’s her real name. I don’t know, I haven’t stalked her on Facebook or Twitter (that would be so…Jennifer Garam of me). It’s a stupid name, but befitting for the author of — you guessed it — “Why Am I Scared Of Men?” Aw, Rachel honey, let’s discuss your fear in a totally non-threatening, slightly condescending, one-sided…whatever. Here, let me help you.
…This afternoon, when I checked the schedule and read the instructor’s name, Matthew, I started making excuses not to go. I don’t know Matthew, but I might have felt differently if his name were Melissa or Miranda. It isn’t just about my fear of a dude adjusting my warrior pose, it’s a pattern. I have always been like this — with male dentists, doctors, therapists, even Santa Claus. Why am I scared of men?
Let me guess. You’re a very slight woman. Small, maybe even with a physical presence reminiscent of the woodland critter for whom you’re apparently named. Unless that Rabbit thing is a joke. And for both our sakes I hope it’s a joke. Because when I think about a girl named Rabbit the first characteristic that comes to mind is feeble. And feeble women are typically scared of men. There, I answered your question. Problem solved.
Wait, what? There’s another 10 paragraphs to this story? Yeesh, what else do I have to teach you?f
When the adult transition happened for me, and I started making my own appointments for the first time, each dentist, gyno and therapist I sought out was female. If you were to ask me at the time why I only saw women, I might have told you that I was supporting female professionals. Yay gender egalitarianism!
Oh, so you’re an adult now. You say you’ve made “the transition,” as if we’re all supposed to know what that is. Do you mean like a Bat Mitzvah? No, probably not. Not with a name like Rabbit White. I’m 28 and I haven’t made any transitions yet. I’m sure your editor Amelia doesn’t think of herself as being some over-the-hill adult, even at 42, or however old she is.
I guess what I’m trying to say is, if your’e an adult you shouldn’t have any problems with men. Your logic is inherently flawed. Your fear of men means you’re immature.
But, but, but. That probably would have been a half-truth. When I stopped to think about it, I realized that my actions were being dictated by cultural messages that had been imbued in me since childhood.
Oh, God. Here we go. Little Rachel Rabbit White wants to get all grad school on us and talk about the “cultural messages” that have been imbued in her since childhood. I thought I was reading sex/relationship advice. But apparently after realizing her article was only two paragraphs long — and her “fear” was nothing more than normal, everyday immaturity — she decided to copy and paste part of an old college term paper into her article.
So Rachel’s got an IUD? Sweet. I can go in raw when we bone.
So Rachel’s uterus is tipped? What does that mean? It fell off a coffee table and spilled on the floor?
Hi. Have I mentioned I don’t know anything about the female reproductive system? I leave trivialities like that to the girls I sleep with. All I’m concerned with is, “Can I put it in [oriface]?” and “Can I finish in/on your [body location].” Speaking of which, I should tell you the hilarious tale of the little girl I was having a fling with until I screwed things up last week. On the same night I broke my face being a drunk asshole. Ah, Valentine’s Day. Alas, that’s another story for another day.
Whoa, there’s a link to Rachel’s Twitter at the bottom of this article. I can finally see what she looks like!? Let’s see…
Hmm…I guess I was wrong. Not so much woodland critter. She looks more like the abandoned lovechild of Klaus Nomi and Thora Birch.
Welcome to The Frisky, Rachel.
Lil B – Poppin’ V [MP3]
April 10th, 2012
Seriously? This is pathetic. First of all, you read the Frisky a lot. And then you take the time to write an article about the people who write for it? Get a job.
Then, in your article, you make fun of people’s names. Very witty.
And then you rip into this one girl, for writing a little essay that probably took her ten minutes to write, because she is actually making a living as a writer. And you talk about boning her? You are incredibly lame. You are absurdly bitter and tragic.
And Rachel Rabbit White? I looked her up. She’s awesome. So thanks for that. And maybe her “fear of men” has something to do with assholes like you. That would explain it perfectly.
April 10th, 2012
You suck.