Pardon Me While I "Her ASS" You

Pardon Me While I "Her ASS" You

"Psst."

"Hey baby."

"HEY!"

"Nice butt. You workout?"

"Your eyes, they're SO exotic."

"Uhm, sure, I'll move."

I have just committed every sin imaginable on their harassment scorecard. So says the Feminist Action Club at Sierra College. That's right, a harassment scorecard. According to their statement (linked at the end of this blog), they have created a non-confrontational way for those who feel sexually harassed to address situations without having to speak up or further escalate into a more inflammatory tone. A card with a checklist is provided to the offending harasser to politely but specifically let them know that they have done something to make the victim feel harassed or threatened, and under no uncertain terms, identifies it as harassment and demands it to stop.

Bullshit.

This card makes me want to harass somebody. Look, I was raised to respect and honor the role that women and men both play in our society. Yes, there ARE ROLES. If there weren't male and female roles, we would cease to exist. We need women to be women and we need men to be men. We need women and men to interact socially and sexually in order to procreate and continue as a species. If this feminist trend continues, human life will cease to exist. We will become extinct. I've seen this movie before. The robots will take over.

The idea that commenting on the attractiveness of someone else's ass has turned into sexual harassment (hey, wait....... her "ass" ment - damn, I never thought about it that way) is a farce, and de-legitimizes ACTUAL sexual harassment caused by those who truly need help with boundaries (cough-cough Bill Clinton cough-cough). That this is originating from a college campus is no surprise, but it gives the appearance of being educational, which again, is a farce. The only education that the sexual harassment card provides is a theory of beta-male dominance - an oxymoron to the Nth degree.

If you Google "what do women want" (well, if you are Googling that, you have other issues entirely, but I digress), you'll find hundreds of thousands of references geared towards trying to understand a woman's psyche. When I was a kid, "Google" was my dad, or my best friend, or that Taylor Swift female friend-character from her You Belong With Me video. But no matter where you go to try to figure out women, the task suits only one ultimate purpose - to figure out how to get in their pants.

That's all modern feminism has become - a way to stop men from getting into women's pants.

Just stop, feminism. You're drunk. And you're gonna end the human race.

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