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Why Aren’t NFL Cheerleaders Kneeling During the Anthem? Who says they aren’t?

“Why Aren’t NFL Cheerleaders Protesting During the National Anthem?” reads the headline on an NBC News site.

I laugh because that’s the stupidest question I’ve ever seen. It cancels itself out before it finishes being asked.

Because they are part of the problem!

No society that isn’t fundamentally sexist would even have cheerleaders. They are part of the system.

If it weren’t sexist: there would be whole squads of male cheerleaders. But  where’s the men’s team that cheers me on during childbirth? How about a bunch of men doing hip-grinding, pelvis-oriented dances to get women through their periods? And I sure as fuck could use some male cheerleaders to get me through menopause.  Where is my high- kicking, ass-waggling, pom pom-bearing man squad?

I’ve never meet a feminist cheerleader in my life.

Oh look at those big strong men. Look at me, sexy, barely clothed woman, waggling my boobs and butt and eating lettuce all day so the men can look at me and be glad they have a penis. Football wouldn’t be complete without slapping an objectified woman on top of it to make it sexy on top of simply being brutally competitive.

There are no NFL cheerleaders protesting for their rights because they know they don’t have any. They exist to please and excite the men for money and that’s it. It’s an athletic form of prostitution; a stadium size strip-club.

That is not to say they aren’t intelligent and talented, but they are willing to prostitute themselves to a stupid, narrow-minded, racist, sexist patriarchal system. Being a cheerleader is the same thing as white women voting for Trump.

Now you want to ask the question again? It’s like asking why Trump voters aren’t taking a knee.  My other answer to that is they aren’t taking a knee because they’re too busy bending over.

Cheerleaders are the Condaleeza Rice of feminism: the Kellyanne Conway of women’s rights.  There is no knee, except to kneel before patriarchy and take its hallowed member into one’s mouth.

Any questions?

Yes, I was a cheerleader, so shut up. And when I saw what was really going on, I quit and joined the basketball team. The women’s basketball team. If cheerleaders want society to change, they all need to quit their jobs and do something useful, something that empowers women instead of  entrenching sexism and its incestuous cousin, racism, even further.

Otherwise let’s all just learn to enjoy our Pussy Grabbing Society and cheer it on!

LET’S GO PATRIARCHY!!!!!

Laughing Coyote

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Categories: feminism, patriarchy, racism, Trump Presidency, Uncategorized, women's humor | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

DANGER at the DOLLAR STORE

CLICK FOR AUDIO VERSION

  So I’m walking to the Dollar Store on a summer evening, which is always a voyage into low self-esteem: Who feels good shopping at the Dollar Store?

Oh look, instead of buying really shitty cat food at Albertson’s for 75 cents a can, I canimages (1) buy 4 cans of completely crappy cat food for 50 cents a can at the Dollar Store, because I’m such a derelict (according to GOP) that I can’t afford the healthier cat food at $1.50 a can, or the outrageously healthy cat food at Whole Foods for $7.25 a can, which would keep the cats alive longer than my lifespan. Then my poor cats would be put down cruelly by strangers who aren’t willing to suck it up and go into the Dollar Store to keep these extra dead-lady-cats-from-next-door alive, because the strangers also can’t afford Whole Paycheck Organic Cat Delight, or the Almost Food for Felines at Albertson’s and Smith’s.

travel-mat-3mm-68in-250px-273pxAnd now for the real question that’s been on my mind for a while: Can you buy yoga mats at the Dollar Store? And if you do will it irreversibly cheapen Downward Dog?  Will I be pilloried at the YMCA for shopping at Cheap Ass Goods warehouse, Santa Fe, New Mexico, or championed for my thriftiness? It’s all going to depend on the quality of the mat. I’m filled with hope: my possible positive self-esteem is hanging in the balance.

I decided to walk to the Dollar Store today. You don’t drive to the Dollar Store. You go there when you have no car and live nearby. If you have a car, you at least park at Trader Joe’s, then walk over to the Dollar Store-the poor person’s Starbucks. Our local Dollar Store is so progressive it opened another Dollar Store in the parking lot with great deals: locals call it The Fifty Cent. They love it because poor white Trump supporters just won’t go in there.

The Dollar Store. It’s a misnomer because it literally means: buy your dollars here. Right. This is the place to buy money. Who’d be dumb enough to purchase money? Um, I’d like to buy a dollar for a dollar. It’s money laundering for poor people.

Or maybe it’s a conspiratorial metaphor, a little known partnership between The Poor Store and Whole Foods. If you shop at Poverty R’ Us, you will save so much money that now you can buy goods at the GOP One-Percenter Market. (The O in GOP stands for “organic,” so I’ve been told. As in Good Organic Person. Right.)

Hang on, I shouldn’t be so cynical: what if it means I can pay one dollar to buy ten dollars; two dollars to buy twenty dollars, and so forth.  It’s some special Dollar Store conversion table! Wow I am smart to shop here! The shabby appearance of the place belies the miracle of expenditure that is taking place every day here, maybe so the GOP doesn’t find out. Something for us the 99 Percenters! Awesome!

Perhaps it also explains why someone burgled the place last night, breaking one huge plate glass window and the glass door, both covered now by particle board.

So here I am approaching the threshold of the Dollar Store on a warm summer evening, trying to beat down any self-esteem I might have built up during the day by doing yoga and not yelling at stupid people, when a car with completely tinted windows drives up, and slows down, timing its entry into the parking spot to coincide with my trajectory.abcb3940a9a8001d72976bc805836dab--audi-r-black-all-black Ordinarily I would assume thoughtfulness on the part of the driver, but because all the windows are opaque, and the windshield is heavily tinted, it’s making me nervous. I can’t see who is in the car at all. Is the person going slowly because they’re a Christian? A Grandma?  A Braille Driver? Or am I being followed? Stalked?  Menaced?

I personally think windows shouldn’t come with the equivalent of mirrored sunglasses. I deserve to stare into the face of the people who are trying to kill me. However, really dark tint is legal in New Mexico. Given the intensity of the sun I can understand why—it’s the only time in my life I’ve hated my sun roof—but I think tinted windows are the concealed carry of vehicles and shouldn’t be allowed.

Even so, as it pulled up I tell myself I’m being stupid, but my breath is catching a little and I have to force myself to keep walking down the side walk in front of the car and not cower like a man afraid of abortion rights against the Dollar Store wall. And now I come to see something completely startling: a grey Hello Kitty vanity plate on the front bumper. The black sporty car has black windows, black tire rims, black trim and a grey Hello Kitty license plate.

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I burst out laughing. Who puts Hello Kitty on the front of their Macho-Mobile? The driver is either completely pussy whipped, so to speak, or using the cleverest disguise ever because now I’m cracking up so hard I can’t run lest I pee my pants. What kind of stalker/hit man/Russian spy would use Hello Kitty plates? I stand here for a bit, gasping and half-expecting a young Latina woman with heels and pink sun glasses to emerge and blow all my referential frameworks to bits.

But Hello Kitty just sits there, breathing, behind its car-sunglasses and I give up and go inside; obviously driver is male and now too ashamed to get out of the car. The Dollar Store: land of self-esteem. Or maybe he is here to buy some money, or maybe rob the place again, but is now having second thoughts because I’m memorizing his license plate and he knows it.

The cashier inside will not admit to selling money. I figure it’s because all the money had all been stolen last Thursday by the cat-burglar, also a misnomer when you think about it. Who would ever be stupid enough to break into someone’s house to steal a cat? Now planting a cat might make some sense, but not abducting a cat to ransom later.  Running a CAT-NAPPING ring usually means you will be shopping at the Bankruptcy Store for the remainder of your life while feeling really sleepy.

After ascertaining the cashier would not admit to selling yoga mats (and as far as I could tell the inventory agreed with him), I left the store. The Hello Kitty Death Squad Car was still outside. But the car didn’t follow me down the road. We both knew his cover had been blown. Or maybe he couldn’t actually see through the window either and that’s why he’d been going so slowly and was perhaps marooned at the Dollar Store. Maybe he actually needed my help. I could go back and google: Blindfolds for Cars and tell him what a possible remedy would be.

But that would have to wait. Right now I had great plans for my Halloween Costume: Hello Kitty Assassin! I’m going right down the street to the Dollar Tree to pick up some money to buy it!

Faithfully yours,

The Laughing Hello Dollar Kitty

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Categories: Animal Humor, cat humor, money, shopping, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

Ferocious Feminists Fight for Environmental Justice and Indigenous Land Rights OPEN MIC Fundraiser Santa Fe, AUGUST 26

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https://www.facebook.com/events/754641951404990/

Ferocious Feminists Fight Fascism presents:
A Night of Words and Music for Environmental Justice!

Featuring the Indigenous poets and activists
Lyla June: internationally recognized performance poet and musician, Dine Walker, and communications director at New Energy Economy

Beata Tsosie-Peña: poet, artist, dancer, community organizer, and environmental justice coordinator for Tewa Women United

Followed by an open mic for performers of all genres and genders on the topic of environmental justice. Poetry, prose, music, performance art, and dance welcome! Sign ups at 6:45; 7 mins max.

Suggested donation $10
All proceeds go to the Black Hills Unity Concert, a project for Indigenous land rights, which Lyla June is organizing.

Saturday, August 26, 7–9 p.m.
Wise Fool Studios
1131 Siler Road, Suite B, Santa Fe

https://www.facebook.com/events/754641951404990/

Laughing Coyote Productions, working with Kristin Barendsen of Santa Fe,         co-produces performers and open-mics that fundraise for various political, environmental and humanitarian causes under the heading: Ferocious Feminists Fight Fascism.

 

 

Categories: feminism, Uncategorized | 2 Comments

I Need Directions for My Directions!

(for audio blog, scroll to the bottom)                 following-directions

I need directions for how to follow directions.

Something like: Step one-read them in order. Step 2: do the steps in order. No improvising. (The steps are numbered in chronological order for a reason. The procedure isn’t: Start wherever you like to put your kids’ swing set together.)

If that were the case, I would start at the end, when it’s all finished.

I wish all instructions said: Start wherever you like! So I’ll start with step 3! What goes good after 3?  I hate 4, 5 looks way too fucking complicated and 6? I think 6 should follow 2, then we’ll do 7. . . then I will see how I feel after that. I may even leave out some numbers. I mean just because you have a bunch of numbers doesn’t mean you have to use them all right? I mean even math doesn’t use ALL THE NUMBERS at once. That’s just stupid.

Good I’m being discerning. Even a little smart about the number line which has always bothered me. What if number 2 hates 1? What if 4 can’t stand the sight of 3? It’s like grade school in a small town where you are always sitting next to Kimmy Stanley and Kimmy Stanley, who wears blue glasses and pigtails, is one boring fucking individual. Karen Spruell is no better. Fuck, I thought, can I just change my name during school hours? I will be the only school kid with a series of aliases. Or is that aliei?

I decided I should change my last name to New. Because I wanted to sit next to Paula Newman and that would guarantee it. This was after I tried to get Paula to change her last name to Stegg so she could sit by me, my name being Stehr. The shortest unpronounceable name ever. Phonics stopped being a thing once I was done answering roll call.

I was the only kid in sixth grade with a disguised name due to chronology, which may be why I developed an allergy to reading directions. So long and drawn out- Jesus I will be dead before I finish reading the instructions and swing sets will be outlawed for the dangerously boring things they are. They really should just collapse after the third use. Even birds won’t use a use pink and blue swing set. Ever see an abandoned swing set in a yard?

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There’s a perimeter of radioactivity around them, no squirrels, butterflies, raccoons—not even any spiders, for God’s sake. Maybe they know something we don’t. Children play strategically around them, as if they don’t even see the swing set that dad nearly lost his marriage over during one very long Christmas Eve sponsored by egg nog. (Rum? Really? He would have been better off with whisky or scotch. Who builds anything drinking rum? Maybe that’s why the kids won’t play on it.

I figured maybe if I didn’t follow the directions I could build a swing set that kids might use for more than five minutes. Our yard isn’t really big enough to have a black hole of that size in it and I’m not about to have my kids stay indoors with me. I’m their fucking mother for god’s sake, not a companion animal. My job is to make sure they don’t expire before age eighteen and if they are in the house with me all day and night because they are avoiding the Bermuda triangle of a swing set in the back yard, someone is going to be spending some time in the lockup, and last I checked Murdering Your Own Children Even if they Fucking Deserve it, is not on the list of preferred parental behaviors, and I don’t want to be in a tiny cell next to Kimmy Stanley or some shit for the next thirty years of my life.

I thought maybe if I just followed the directions in a-chronological order, the swing set might look so goddamn interesting and mysterious that my kids might not ever come back in the house at all, and this was a goal worth working towards.

As I built this monstrosity I also employed some Synchronous Directionality, which is when you do all of the steps of the instructions at the same time. You definitely need to wear tennis shoes for this. I figured Syn chronous Directionalitywould keep me completely safe from all thing ordinal, but as soon as I built the swing set, loosely speaking, the government called and wanted to hire me and wouldn’t take no for an answer, even when I said “I can’t follow instructions.”

Apparently the bureaucrats needed help understanding the tax code, which science has proven cannot be done while following the guidelines, and then Trump wanted me in the Strategic Planning Department.

I asked, “Really? Strategic planning for what?”

They said they didn’t know and that was part of the beauty of my job. I was to work towards an unknown goal using something like Debbie Snack Cakes as a template and, since my name is Debbie, and I needed to rehabilitate my name and reputation because of that awful Dallas thing of the early 80’s, I took the job and created the Adventitous Planning Department. No one knows what it means so I pretty much do whatever I want, mostly designing things that don’t work, but that’s not a problem since no one can really figure out what the things I design are for in the first place.

Like place mats for cars. That was a signature piece. I also designed an ice cube tray that makes anything but cubes, mostly jagged slivers in random triangular shapes that cut your throat open when you drink your highball. (So if a highball is more mixer than booze, is a lowball more booze than mixer? If so I’ll have three lowballs please.)

Meanwhile Ice Scientists have told me that my non-cube ice shapes aren’t random because ice cleaves apart in certain predictable patterns, but since I was listening to the words they were using to explain this out of order (like listening to English as if it was German) I didn’t understand what the Ice-atists were saying to me. Global warming will take care of the ice anyway, so I don’t really need to know.

I have also recently embarked on atemporality where I attempt to experience time out of order. Like expecting a break up that already happened! Some people call that depression. I call it planning for your past. (I’m going to do that surprise break up better this time because I know all my lines!

Atemporal living is also very similar to housework-pretty much the eternal return of the same, thus the stuttering now of the dishes never being over, also known as timelessness. Who knew you could get that with your kitchen? Being a practicing Atemporalist also means I’m never late anymore.

And my other trick, called a-historicity is also coming along nicely. This consists of pretending something that never happened happened last week. President Hillary. I thought I’d be alone in this project, but no! I’m attending a Hillary is Really the President party tonight.$_1

We are going to bring lowballs and build a swing set.

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Your’s truly,

The Laughing Coyote

Audio of this blog below…give it a listen!

 

 

 

Categories: miscellaneous, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , | 4 Comments

6 Months with Lady Viagra: Wow that extra .5 orgasms per month was really something! (Audio blog)

As performed on May 20, 2017 at FURIOUS FEMINISTS FIGHT FASCISM OPEN-MIC FUNDRAISER NIGHT AT ICONIK COFFEE ROASTERS IN SANTA FE. THANKS EVERYONE for raising money to prevent families from becoming homeless!  (Audio)

 

 

Categories: feminism, Health, sexism, Sexual humor, Uncategorized, women's health, women's humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Furious Feminists Fight Fascism Open Mic and Fundraiser-Santa Fe NM May 20

Laughing Coyote Productions Presents:

FEROCIOUS FEMINISTS FIGHT FASCISM!

OPEN MIC and FUNDRAISER

Performances include The Problem with Lady Viagra (Deborah Stehr) and The Pussy Has the Power (Kristin Barendsen)mic_me Kristin open mic

Saturday, May 20, 6:00 to 8pm

Iconik Coffee Roasters, 1600 Lena St,

Santa Fe, New Mexico

webpage: Bit.ly/FerociousFFF

Writers, musicians, performance artists, and our fans — come out for an inspiring night of creativity and resistance! Sign up at 5:45 p.m. and keep your piece to 7 minutes max.

Politically oriented work encouraged (but not required). Performers of all genders welcome. Parents, note that there will be some adult language and themes.

Suggested donation $5, but no one will be turned away for lack of funds. Iconik’s delicious pastries and self-serve coffee will be available for purchase. All proceeds will be donated to Adelante, serving homeless families in Santa Fe.

Join in the fight for human rights, women, people of color, our earth and animals, LGBTQ people, the arts, peace, the Constitution, freedom of speech, democracy, and sanity!

unnamed (8)                      Iconik image                        Venue donated by Iconik Coffee Roasters, Santa Fe

Sponsored and hosted by Kristin Barendsen and Deborah Stehr

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Categories: feminism, political humor and satire, sexism, Trump Presidency, Uncategorized, women's humor, Writing Related | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

Satan Denies Voting for Trump: Day 4 of Trump Apocalypse

 

In an exclusive interview with Dumbfounded Magazine, Satan reports, “I just couldn’t get behind Trump. He’s just too evil. I might have endorsed him if he hadn’t had the support of so many vile GOP leaders and half the population of the United States, but under those circumstances, I just couldn’t go through with it. It’s just too vile, even for me. He’s giving the Devil a bad name. In fact I’m thinking of leaving this field altogether.”

Satan went on to say that Hillary is not and never was evil. “She didn’t meet the criteria. The most she ever suffered from was some minor league-bad and that’s mainly because she married a man and tried to reform a sexist society. Look I know bad, and she’s no bad.”

Satan continued, “Most sociopaths I know didn’t vote for Trump either. Your basic serial killer/psychopath took a long look at him and his organization and said, ‘Whoa, wait a minute. I don’t want any part of this. I have to draw the line somewhere and this is it. What do I tell my children when I come home from a long day of ripping off pensioners and killing people with knives? I just couldn’t do it.”

Apparently, narcissistic personality disorders, and other personality disorders, have started seeking treatment in droves. One well-established narcissist explained, “With Trump at the helm, there’s nothing for us to do. He’s cornered the market on psychopathology and sucked all the air out of the room. There’s no benefit now to actually being a garden variety narcissist: he’s sucked up all the selfishness and so the rest of us might as well get into treatment and sign up for the Democratic Party, so as to give our lives some purpose and meaning. Trump has being a selfish bastard all locked up and there’s no more room for us personality disorders. As part of my treatment, I plan to work a Crisis Hotline at least until the mid-terms.”

Not sure if this is the silver lining we were hoping for, my brave friends, but maybe it’s a start.

It’s Day 4 of Trump-aggedon. Only 1451 days to go.

May we all have the good fortune to be saved by a sociopath.

Sincerely,

Laughing Coyote

Categories: mental health, political humor and satire, psychology humor, religion, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Trump-apocalpyse Day 2

Ok, survived day 2 of the Trump-apocalypse. Only 1453 to go. Ordered 16 crates of Grey Goose Vodka, 12 crates of vermouth, 16,000 jars of olives and am figuring out how to make vodka-infused coffee breakfast drink along with having bacon at every meal. I need my strength.

Today I turned off the news and learned ballet dancing. I now plan to be the oldest comedian/ballet dancer to make it big in New Mexico while hammered on Grey Goose martinis.

It’s Day 2 people.

Pace yourselves.

Praying for a Trump Free world,

Laughing Coyote

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Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Day 1 of Trump-apocalpyse

Also known as Day 1 AT (After Trump). We now no longer use the Gregorian Calender. 2016 stopped November 8, 2016 AD.  So its DAY 1  Year 1 AT (After Trump). Everything prior to today will be referred to as BT (Before Trump) replacing the hackneyed and tired BC.

Sorry folks. Jesus no longer matters.

It’s a very weird day when I realize I’m a better Christian than the right-wingers because I didn’t vote for the sociopath. Alas now that I’ve achieved a personal milestone in my Christianity, I can no longer use the time tested B.C./A.D., because we’ve been taken over by an Idiot and a squad of right-wing and broken-winged morons. There goes the alphabet!

That’s okay. I was tired of using letters to communicate anyway. It’s much easier to grunt and point at the nearest civil right and then consume it like its some giant delusional cookie treat, never to be seen again, but boy wasn’t that a fabulous five seconds of Neanderthal goodness!

It’s the first time I have felt glad about my upcoming hysterectomy-there will be no possible way to get pregnant after that and be forced to have the baby because I will no longer have the right to get an abortion at age 50. And believe me the fucking baby would want it too if it got a look at me on any given Sunday.

That was the bright spot of Day 1  AT,  dear diary, so glad I won’t have a womb very soon.

Several unthinking people told me today, “Have a nice day.”

I wanted to punch them in the fucking face.

That’s how I survived Day 1, well that and still being drunk when I woke up this morning.

Only 1454 days to go.

Reporting from the Heart of the Trump-apocalypse

Laughing and Heart-Broken Coyote

Categories: political humor and satire, Trump Presidency, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Wandering Uterus Votes for Hillary; Trump Whines about Voter Fraud

(full transcript of blog posted under “Ovarian Emails” after this video)

Categories: political humor and satire, Sexual humor, Uncategorized, women's health | Tags: , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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