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How not to get raped

Don’t dress like a slut. Whether you’re going to work, walking the dog, nipping out to Tesco’s, jogging, going out for a walk, to a friend’s house, a night out, your boyfriend’s house, the cinema, the gym, the doctor’s, make sure you aren’t dressing like a slut, you slut. (Even though there’s no evidence that seeing an inch of cleavage turns a normal dude into a rabid monster who will attack you.)

However, research has shown that attackers go for women whose clothes can be easily removed (like loose, baggy clothes or clothes with zips.) So, don’t wear loose clothes either – wear tight clothes. Which may look slutty. You slut.

Don’t walk alone at night – are you an idiot as well as a slut? Get a man to walk you home because women aren’t able to fend for themselves and should rely on men.

However, most rape victims are raped by friends, acquaintances, family and partners. So don’t ask your friend or date to walk you home, or they might rape you. Which would be your fault, you brazen whore.

As we’ve already learned, you are in danger from family, friends and acquaintances. You can protect yourself by:

Being born to a lone mother with no male relatives or other male children. This takes care of possible paedophilia or incest from your family.

Not talking to any of your fellow male pupils, students or coworkers so they don’t become friends or acquaintances and rape you. You might get referred to psychiatric services, lose all your friends or get fired, but it’s a small price to pay for being safe

Another risk comes in the form of date-rape. You should avoid this by not dating, and instead having one-night stands with strangers.

An important thing to remember is that although most victims are attacked by someone they know, you can still be attacked by a stranger. So don’t go out anywhere, because anywhere you go, you could meet a stranger.

However, if a rapist breaks into your house they could attack you there. Living with your partner or parents is no help either, as it is common for women to be attacked in their own homes by friends or family. So, really, you shouldn’t have been born female.

Though transitioning to being a man isn’t any help, because men get raped too – by women and by men.

So there is absolutely NOTHING you can do to prevent rape. Everything you do to avoid it brings its own risks.

Above all: be ready to shag absolutely anyone, because if you’re consenting then it isn’t rape so you can’t be raped. May the sluttiest woman win.

And remember, if you do get raped, it’s your fault for being a slut and you shouldn’t be ruining the rapist’s life by daring to out him or report him to the police. Because it was all your fault, slut.

***There is nothing you can do to avoid it, and why should you even try? It’s the rapist’s responsibility to ensure he doesn’t rape.***

 

 
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Posted by on November 30, 2012 in Feminism

 

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Chastity’s blog post

“No vows, no sex”

Hello, this is me writing as Chastity White, a right-wing nutjob. I’m here to tell you why just the women you all should be abstinent. By the way, Kalika is not the only virginal slut/slutty virgin. Check out these other abstinent whores…I mean, totally serious photos that prove my points. If you believe in any other so-called religion that is obviously from the devil, leave now stay and be indoctrinated, you disgusting heathens.

“True love waits”

Women can make it easier for themselves to be abstinent by denying their femininty and degrading their sexuality. We must allow ourselves to be dominated by men, and wear underwear that expresses our dads’ possession of us as a commodity valuable only for our hymen.

Daddy owns me. Daddy’s a gun-wielding, violent maniac who’d murder his own daughter’s boyfriend, and he OWNS me. Help. Please. Child Protection servies? Anyone?

Another good tip is to be on your guard against impure thoughts. Never let a man have sexual contact with you – it’s your fault if he does, because you let him. Women are the guardians of sex and it’s our job to tell him no. It’s not his job to tell us no, or to control himself. If you don’t tell him no, that’s a shame on you but fame for him, because boys should have as many girls as they can. Their virginity is worthless but yours is priceless. This is all non-negotiable because it just is. It’s not even in the Bible, but let’s act like  it’s in the Bible and the laws of our country all at the same time.

Your virginity is your gift. It’s the greatest gift you have – worth way more than your intelligence, personality, good character, hard work, sports achievements, degree(s), religious or political beliefs…

Another argument is that this is all for your own good. Women get hurt by sex but men don’t. This is true for 100% of women and men even in vastly different cultures and historical periods. It’s just as true for homosexuals and trans people. The reason why women get hurt is that we are inferior to men and have a chemical called oxytocin that releases when we chat to friends or have sex; it makes us feel happy. Somehow, that interferes with our ability to not get emotions all mixed up with sex. Men don’t have this chemical or any similar chemical of course. That’s why men don’t have any friends. Obviously. And why men can separate emotions and sex; this separation is the reason why men don’t have committed relationships or get married. Only women ever enter committed relationships, because women fall in love whenever they have sex, and also they want commitment – men never want commitment, of course.

The hymen/corona is of sacred importance. Everything else is okay because it is the non-existent hymen that is symbolic. We know it’s actually called the corona, which never gets ‘broken’ and the ‘hymen’ is just a myth, but WE DON’T CARE. Seriously. So fuck off, liberals.

When you are abstinent, it is of paramount importance to comport yourself in a decent fashion. The abstinence cult doesn’t harm women in any way, or perpetuate the double standard at all. In fact, giving Daddy complete control over his daughter’s sexual choices in a purity ball or purity pledge is actually empowering for his daughter – even though girls as young as four are forced into these pledges. After all, what could be more self-actualising and healthy than letting Daddy decided who you date, and giving Daddy a key until the day you get married and he gives that key to your husband, symbolising the key to your heart and your virginity? This is very progressive behaviour and not barbaric or repressive at all. And although the fact that boys aren’t made to attend purity balls and pledge their virginity to their mothers, that doesn’t mean that we care more about female virginity than male virginity…it doesn’t…honest!!!! As to why Mommy isn’t the natural guardian of her daughter’s virginity, as she has of course gone through the same temptations and understands the urges and hormonal upheavals a young girl has to face, well…Mommy can’t guard her daughter’s heart. It’s Daddy’s job. After all, Mommy is just a woman…she doesn’t have a penis, which of course means she can’t be trusted with anything. Just look at the wonderful regimes in Iran and Saudi Arabia – they know the score. Just because some women – and men- in those countries vehemently oppose the laws and campaign for gender equality doesn’t mean the governments aren’t totally right. We should use their example in our own society by not having a separation of church and state. That way, we could have abstinence indoctrination – sorry, I mean education – in ALL schools, not just some. Then the virgins will be virgins and the sluts will get pregnant and be shamed by the community as they won’t be allowed contraception or abortion (in my ideal universe). The women would have only two choices: which will you be, slut or virgin? No grey areas, just black and white – if you’re not a virgin, you’re a slut. The boys can do what they like, of course, boys are naturally meant to have lots of sex. And everyone would be a repressed conservative and worship the government.

Women are of course passive and asexual, and we don’t have a right to anything more.

 

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Mama I’m in love with a pervert

Mama I’m in love with a criminal. And this type of love isn’t rational, it’s physical. (it’s physical). This song by Britney Spears was playing in an arty clothing shop in Glasgow as I was spending my prostitution earnings. I’m playing it right now. The rest of the lyrics after this are: Mama please don’t cry, I will be alright/and all reason aside, I just can’t deny, I love that guy./He’s a rebel with a tainted heart/And even I am just a tart.

Roland thinks that I think I love him, so if I did my song (to the same tune of Criminal) would be:

Mama I’m in love with a pervert now.

And this type of love isn’t rational, it’s physical. (It’s physical).

Mama please don’t judge him cos he treats me right,

And I got all the fucking that I need all night. (all night long).

He’s got a corporate facade but a pervert’s core

And he’s the perfect mate for me, a whore.

Mama please don’t sigh, he’s not my only man

Your daughter’s proud to be a slut and she has ten.

Mama please don’t cry, he got millions

I’ll love him till I meet a guy with billions (with billions)

He’s a pervert but an educated one

And furthermore the sex is really fun.

Mama, he’s the one I have to marry

If I really want that red Ferrari!

 

Mama please don’t cry, your baby’ll be alright

As long as she can fuck three hours a night. (Three hours a night)

And Roland is my soulmate, I can tell

By his balance sheet and his car as well

Mama he’s polyamorous like me

And he holds the key for me, to set me free.

He’s a dirty old man with no qualms

But he’s giving me 8000 pounds

See, he’s of financial benefit to me

And also I’m learning how to fuck for free.

He’s a professional who loves his art,

And I’m a kinky bitch without a heart.

 

Mama I’m in love with a pervert now,

And this type of love isn’t spiritual; it’s professional

I’m a prostitute who likes electric drills

So, if I lived my fantasies, I’d kill.

What I want to do to him is criminal

And my self-control at best is miminal (it’s minimal)

Mama, my dreams are the devil’s art

But rape and torture are dear to my heart.

Mama please don’t cry, I won’t set him on fire

All laws aside, I can’t deny, wanna rape that guy.

The Government can’t torture me in Britain,

This is a situation that’s not worth living,

But worse still, if I use electricity

On him without consent, they’d imprison me.

 

Mama, Roland’s fucking a criminal

He doesn’t know my sex drive is so powerful

Mama I’m scared I’m gonna lose control

And end up in jail, cos you know, I’m a ho.

Mama do you know where to get a taser?

It’d be cool if I could find a laser

He’s a fucking pervert, a predator

But an educated fucking pervert, so that’s better.

Mama, I’m in love with a pervert now,

I’m a pure virgin with my innocence in tow

Mama, do you think he’s too much for me?

If he loves me back, I might get that Ferrari.

 

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“Good bang for the buck”: the Gentleman’s guide to texting prostitutes

If it wasn’t for the suicide distraction, would I have pushed for a higher amount once he said it’d be a few days to make the film? After all, I was hoping for 5/6k for a day of being with him (plus another couple of days – the “if we could see each other more often” clause). I don’t know. But the deal has been done, and what has been done may not be undone. Forgive my ramblings; I am suffering from Roland withdrawal; sex IS a drug, and I understand sex addiction now…I feel so restless and frustrated. Reading Baudelaire’s poetry makes it excrutiatingly worse, as does eating ice cream, or hearing a sigh, or the wind moving branches, it is as if my entire body is very sensitive. I feel like banging my head on the wall in sheer frustration. When I think of him I pant slightly. I move my hand down my side, over my belly and bottom and imagine it’s his hand. I used to feel my curves as a 12 and 13 year old, delighting in my changing, slim, curved figure, but this is different – my hand doesn’t follow the natural curve of my side, but skitters randomly, feeling and touching. There is no relief from touching other places either, which is odd, as there used to be. Maybe he slipped time-delay viagra into my drink.

I remember sitting across from him and deciding to let him open negotiations; it is easier to control a negotiation if the other party opens it. That chicken was delicious. I just remembered that before we ordered, he said “don’t worry, I’ll get this” and yeah I knew he probably would, but that did have a calming effect on me and I was then able to actually choose what I wanted instead of staring at it in horror looking for the cheapest thing that wouldn’t make me look like a cheapskate. (Because if he had refused to pay me more than 3k I’d have wasted like £30 for nothing).

Roland had booked a hotel for us, but then had to cancel at the last minute. This was over a week ago. I was all psyched up for it. Anyway here are our most recent texts:

Hi, I wish you were here. Do you miss me? I do, because my brain associates you with pleasure and money. And for your personality, of course. It’s not all about the money, just mostly about that. But I chose you for your character. I wish I was Queen Tut, it would be so much fun interrogating my enemies. Teeheehee.

and

Hey r u free on the 11 or 12th? I’m getting really frustrated over here. I thought of going up on the rooftops and screaming “Rolaaaaand! I need sex! Rolaaaaand!” into the depths of the mystic night but then I figured you wouldn’t hear me over the […] mile distance so I wrote you this text instead. [Here, the mating call of the female is expressed in emotive imagery to entice the male and keep a guise of proprietary.]

and

I’m free anytime exept the 5th, 6th and 9th. This is torture (and not the good kind). xx [Notice how humour is used to disguise the desperation of the mating call and titillate the male with thoughts of s/m torture].

Roland: My dear, I would not want you to be tortured in this way. But also I do not wish it to end in a train wreck of fantasy hitting reality. As I said, you have the potential to be dynamite. But if bang there must be…then let there be light! What are you doing next thursday (12th)? [Roland’s talents for taking pictures of naked women in s/m poses photography are alluded to here with the bang/light imagery. The use of the coloqiualism ‘bang’ denotes a cultured man of the world.]

Me: You 😀 We could plan the film’s plot, characters and setting etc. I really want it to be well made, a project with a clear plan and goal, i dont want it to be a train wreck either.

P.S. That bang/light thing actually made me LOL

U want me overnight? [ An example of the delicate, yet eloquent phrasing in this most sensitive of questions, as espoused by a graduate of a prestigious Law school.]

Roland: Yes I would say overnight would be cool. Might as well make you earn your money – I’m sure you’ll give good bang for the buck baby yeah 🙂 . [Notice the use of alliteration to give the sentence better ‘flow’ and emphasise the financial and erotic nature of prostitution. The use of this poetic tool befits a man who graduated from one of the top 2 British universities. Also, in keeping with the fine traditions of his English heritage, a gentlemanly conduct is assumed at all times when texting his ladyfriend.]

Me: Course I will 🙂 And really, Lord [Roland’s surname] that is most unseemly. I happen to be wearing a purity ring that just arrived from the states. And you will have to successfully torture me to get that blowjob – I mean, oral-genital stimulation. [Here, the female’s background in Law affords her the foresight to enjoin the male to exercise the proper restraint in pressing his advantage, in case he may forget himself in the hotel room he has acquired for the sole purpose of degradation, exploitation, and perverse sadomasochistic sex acts which will be filmed. The female knows her virginity will not yet be taken on the 12th, because they have not yet worked out the most entertaining and humiliating way in which to take it.]

 

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