I can’t abide people who use old memes and then feel obliged to explain them as if they’d just invented fire. I remember drunk discussing Lake Bell with an old roommate who told me she was the ultimate Hollywood butterface, then felt compelled to explain the meaning of the pun. I found myself becoming filled with a shapeless rage. It’s not the sexism that bothers me, it’s the lack of grounding. Unless you’re Leonardo Dicaprio and you’re pulling a different world class lingerie model for every time somebody made a gay joke about you in middle school, you’re pushing that same set of Sisyphean balls up the lady hill we all are. You’d run over your tightest bro’s before ho’s buddy for the chance to lay biblically upon Lake Bell. That’s the power of truth that surged down my arm and into my fist as I punched him square in his man titties, Fucking Craigslist.
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