Trump Decides to Invade English: Day 10 of Trumpapocalypse

Trump loved my last post: Make Rape Great Again! in which I reported on all the new words being approved by dictionaries and travel guides around the world: words like Trumpaggedon, Trumpapath, Trumpsogeny and What the Trump?

 Here’s what he tweeted to me today: I loved your idea: Make America Rape Again! It’s great! And your idea of putting my name in all the words in English. It’s Trumptastic.

 Me:  that’s not what I fucking meant you Cheeto Bag.

Trump:  Will you come work for me?

I told him to Trump Off.

Then I applied for a Visa to North Korea: it’s safer there.

It’s 1445 days until the 2020 election. How are you coping?

Signing off,

The Laughing Coyote

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Categories: English language, political humor and satire, sexism, Trump invades English; Trump vocabulary; new words in English, humor about Trump, Trumpisms,, Trump Presidency | Tags: | Leave a comment

Make Rape Great Again: Day 7 of Trumpapocalypse

Headlines: Dictionaries around the world ratify “Trumpapocalypse” as a real word.

Also in line for approval:



Trumpassistic         (meaning narcissistic)

Trumpapath           (meaning psychopath, sociopath)

Tritrumpharent      (meaning triumphant)

Trumpiminal          (meaning criminal)

Trumpyrant            (meaning Tyrant)

and What the Trump?  (from: What the Fuck?)


I have some suggestions:

Trumpist (from racist)

Trumpsogeny (from misogyny)

Trumpsoginist   (misogynist)

Plus, Trumpidiot:

for anyone who voted for him, especially if you are a white woman. You deserve a special term all your own but I haven’t figured out a word bad enough. I will have to invent a new word for women who vote against their own interest and that of their daughters because there was plenty of warning about what that would mean.

Right now I’m stuck with a very clunky phrase: I, Your Mother, voted for you, Daughter, to have your Pussy Grabbed, Raped, and Impregnated and forced to have the child because you don’t deserve to have any rights or respect. Yeah me! Make Rape Great Again!

This phrase just isn’t catchy at all. It doesn’t roll off the tongue. For another, it just wanders around inside horror, all casual, like it’s ordering some really nice Rape Me Now blouses and You Haven’t Groped Me Yet, What’s Wrong? skirts from L.L. Bean, or buying some nice Victoria’s Secret underwear with the embroidered phrase: Make America Rape Again on it, in case your spouse or boyfriend forgets what the establishment endorses and accidentally treats you with respect.

 Maybe an acronym using this phrase is in order? Oh yes, I have one:


Okay, that could work, but it isn’t really descriptive of the voter, only the victims of the white female majority vote (53% in case you think I’m full of shit).

I need a word bad enough for these misguided voters: Those that now have forced me to wear a T-shirt saying: It’s a bad time to have a uterus. Hysterectomies for everyone! (Before we loose Obamacare).

Maybe in the next 1448 days before the next election, I will find a term bad enough.

Oh but here’s a word that might do in the meantime:

Trumptor.   (Meaning traitor).


Not-Laughing Coyote Reporting



Categories: feminism, political humor and satire, sexism, Trump Presidency | 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.


Laughing Coyote

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

Day 3 of Trump-apocalypse

How I got through Day 3, Year 1, AT  (After Trump)


Oh god, I woke up with yet another Trump Hangover. Nothing that an hour in the bathroom couldn’t handle.

  1. Installed a vomitorium in my home. (On sale in the same stores that brought you the bidet).
  1. Burned yet another Trump piñata left over from Halloween in effigy.
  1. Decided to open a company specializing in Trump piñatas because burning things in effigy is going to become very popular and I’m going to be rich selling this shit.
  1. Took a quick online certification course in Voodoo.
  1. Went to Hobby Lobby and got several Voodoo Doll DIY Home Craft kits.
  1. Marveled that such a Christian company that loves God so much is okay with selling voodoo doll kits. (Then I realized the equipment was meant for pro-choice and LGBT people.)
  1. Spent the next three hours sticking pins in the Trump and Pence dolls, focusing on the genital regions since the brain area is obviously not relevant
  1. Went back to get more Voodoo dolls from Hobby Lobby when I realized I needed to do the whole cabinet and the majority leaders.
  1. Spent the rest of the day on the internet waiting for news of a mysterious set of illnesses plaguing the new administration requiring quarantine on the planet Mars for the next eight years and how we are going to have to borrow a rocket from the Russians to get them there.

What did you do to get through Day 3 of Trump-apocalypse?

Post here (scroll down to the end of the blog for comments), post on FB or write to me at   I plan to post other people’s ways of coping when appropriate and will do it anonymously unless you ask me to post your name or pseudonym.

Hang in there everyone,

Only 1452 days to go.

-Laughing Coyote


Categories: mental health, political humor and satire, Trump Presidency | 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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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

Ovarian Emails

Ovarian Emails

I got an irate email from my ovaries the other day that said, “Where the hell is our uterus? We are getting reports from stranded ova that after they ovulate there’s  nowhere to go. Can you imagine what that feels like? You wait fifty years for your chance to leave the room you’ve lived in with all the other unripened eggs—you know everything about everyone—their hopes and dreams, their nasty habits, the rumors about the ova who live in the other ovary being smarter and better looking than your lot of listless, shallow and self-absorbed eggs, who are content to post selfies on Body-Book and worry about their weight. And imagine that you’ve experienced all the tiresome competitions between the Left Ovary and the Right Ovary in the Successfully Released Egg Contest, and read all the research and opinions about who deserves to ovulate, and then endured the monthly ups and downs of the Ovarian Selection Process (which is only slightly less complicated than a Supreme Court confirmation). Yet you are always living with a nagging question in the background: Where do we go when we leave this ovarian life? What happens to us? And then finally you ovulate and nada.

I was shocked. Not just because my reproductive system knows how to e-mail but to find out that their sex education system is possibly worse than ours, especially in Ovary-Right. Apparently the eggs don’t know what happens to most Ova: disappearing into a toilet or tampon somewhere, lost and anonymous with the blood that was once part of the uterine lining—all hopes dashed. But who would agree to ovulate if they knew of that probable future? Finishing the email, I realized that my Ova were also not prepared for the other thing that can happen: turning into a human being. Perhaps the ovaries weren’t equipped to handle large scale panic.

My phone beeped, interrupting me. I had a message. It was from Eva the Ovum. She wrote, “We’ve been trying to call you, since typing is hard without fingers and the voice-to-type thing sucks, but you never answer the phone. Some of us think you are a Millennial, but I disagree—I suspect you are simply a curmudgeon who hates talking, but I thought you might respond to a text.

“I want you to imagine what it’s like to be me. Finally liberated from Ovary-Right, I arrived at the end of the fallopian tube only to say, ‘Where the fuck is the uterus?. . . I know there’s a uterus. Right before I ovulated, I was notified about the difference between a fallopian tube and a uterus and this is no uterus. I can’t possibly embed here. I was specifically warned against that kind of behavior. But here I am and it’s basically a door without a house and even the door is missing. I felt disenfranchised. ‘Is this all there is?’ I asked the silent tissues.

“Nothing in Ovary-Right had prepared me for the possibility of the uterus going missing. I dug into the end of the fallopian tube and tried to remember more about the briefing I’d had before ovulation. Does the uterus leave the pelvic floor and come back? Had there been any instruction on what to do if the uterus is late? Should I wait here? Does the uterus have a phone number or an App? If it travels, where does it go? Around the body like some kind of weird inter-organ Uber? Wait a second, didn’t I hear about that somewhere. . . in history. . . the wandering uterus?. . . that causes-yes that’s it- Hysteria, when the uterus wanders around the female body creating problems for the GOP.

“What were those symptoms? Moodiness, hysterical regulation of pregnancy, delusions about birth control and abortion, and a special kind of neurasthenic paralysis of the hands that keeps the Senate from voting on Supreme Court Justices? Yes, that had to be it

“I decided to make an temporary fallopian encampment hoping the uterus would take a break from abusing mankind and come back to pick me up.

“And….nothing happened. A month passed. And here came another Ovum, Olivia, and I reached out to grab her because unlike my slow careful meander through the fallopian tube, she was tearing through it like an egg on a mission. I thought maybe the woman we live in-you-was having sex and making everything slippery and turning us upside-down, which ruined my encampment, dumping the tent over that I’d managed to scrape together out of tissues and the bits of some cancer-causing Johnson and Johnson’s baby powder. Unfortunately, my fellow egg slipped out of my grasp in the bedlam, sailing off into the abyss and then falling and falling until I couldn’t see her anymore. I was horrified.

“Then the questions started up: What is the ovum without the womb? What is a uterus without the possibility of a baby? What is the purpose of an unemployed and undereducated egg? What skills did I really have? Shortly thereafter, I decided I had been alone and self-aware way too long—us ova are not generally good at solipsism or solitude. Obviously some action needed to be taken. ‘But what should I do’ I asked myself. ‘I can’t possibly live here the rest of my life. It’s like a train station for round tiny slugs. I’ve studied Feng Shui and these conditions are not good for me. Plus I feel the danger of dying without a purpose. Parts of me already seem to be disappearing when I sit still too long. Anyway, I was promised a uterus and I want to know what happened.’

“I decided it was no use waiting around for the wandering uterus to come back. In fact if I was a uterus and could move around the body why would I come back to the pelvis where I’d been trapped my whole life? Why not hang out in the left triceps? Or the knee? I hear the face is great this time of year if you know how to handle it.

“Then I remembered some gossip that some Uteri (which is the plural of Uterus) feel that being a receptacle for human life is not always what it’s cracked up to be, which is maybe why the Ovarian Committee told us nothing about it until right before Ovulation. Evidently some Uteri resent being seen as only useful for pregnancy. We’d dismissed this as propaganda because it leaked from Ovary-Left and involved science, which for us on Ovary-Right was just a misspelling of Scientology.

“Subsequently I recalled more talk about our uterus being involved in a Fibroid Ring that she couldn’t get out of that was making her pay in blood and pain.  Maybe she had every reason to get out. Shit, what if our uterus had left the building entirely in order to escape from a Mafiosa of Fibroids? Maybe our Uterus wasn’t in Our Woman’s body at all anymore, but had applied for a passport to places unknown. Perhaps she’d had plastic surgery of some kind and was hiding in plain sight. In fact she could be anywhere or anything, like a fancy scarf, or a small purse, possibly even a man’s face in the form of a mask. Wow that would be really something. I wondered if I should slip out of the body and go look for her, but I had no idea which way to go. There were no signs saying: This Way Out.

“I had to get back and tell the others. I owed them that.

“I found some fibers that no one seemed to be using and, like the Salmon, that I’d read about on the Ovarian Internet, climbed my way back up to the fallopian door, took a running jump at the canyon of gap between the fallopian tube and Ovary-Right and then clung to the outside and threatened to turn into Ovarian Cancer if they didn’t let me back into the Ovary tout de suite.

          “But we’ve never had an Ovum come back,” said the GateKeeper. “Our revolving door only revolves one way.”

Ignoring that Sarah Palinist logic, I said, “I have the Johnson and Johnson’s talcum powder pointed at your head. Get out of the way and I will solve the enigma of the revolving door as well as the mystery of the missing uterus!”

“And so I told my story to the Ovarian Committee, and then, after learning how to write, which took another month, we composed an initial email and then I decided to text you this testimonial. Please tell us what is happening with our uterus.”

And that is how I found out that you should always notify the Ovaries of a major shift in Uterine Policy so they can prepare to fall to the floor of the empty pelvis and be absorbed into whatever tissue happens to be there—a death perhaps better than being carried out of the body on a sludgy river of blood and letting the ovaries know that the hidden dream of becoming your own body through the miracle of gestation and birth is now over.

Did I really want to tell them I chose to have a partial hysterectomy to remove a uterus infested with many different kinds of fibroids, most inoperable, causing pain and digestive problems that would only get worse with menopause still years away? I didn’t know I had to warn the remaining organs and set up a psychological support system. Furthermore, it had never occurred to me that I could email my reproductive system. Think of the conversations I could have had if I’d only known! On second thought, maybe not.

How was I going to explain all this? Was I going to say, “Look ladies I had them excise the uterus, but I left you alive, never mind that now all of you are doomed for reabsorption in remote and unknown pelvic areas, never before seen by other Ova.” Would that spin of me saving them so they could be Pelvic Pioneers be a sufficient consolation prize? What would happen to me if all my remaining ova got mad at me at once? What about sad and depressed eggs? Would they be more inclined to just throw in the towel and cause cancer? What if the ovaries decided to start wandering around my body weeping and carrying protest signs about the oppression of Ova and the murder of Uteri by women? Worse, what if they accused me of being a Republican, who could do ridiculous things, like vote for the GOP from 2001 onwards and decide that putting a Pussy Grabbing Male Presidential Candidate into office was somehow better than choosing the “evil” e-mailing Hillary.

As usual, the threat of even looking remotely Republican galvanized me into action and I began to think hard. Where would a uterus go once she leaves the body if she could? Mine would go fucking vote for Hillary.

So I did what any self-respecting democratic woman would do when texting her ovaries: I became a politician.

I texted back a headline to Eva the Ovum. It said, “Hysterical Wandering Uterus Votes for Clinton.”

Eva the Egg texted back, “Our uterus is out voting for president?”

I wrote, “Yes. In fact I think my sex organs have been plotting this for a long time: the fibroids being an excuse for voter autonomy. It is the Year of the Hysterectomy: GET OUT THE FUCKING VOTE. Female sex organs are so excited to vote for Hillary who is a Woman’s Woman, not like that shit-for-brains Sarah Palin, who finds plastic Ziploc bags confusing, and totally different than that morally bankrupt, talking penis-puppet Condoleezza Rice—who has all the morality of a cockroach despite her IQ being four times that of G.W. Bush. Women are out voting for Hillary Clinton with all their reproductive organs—vaginas, wombs, ovaries and brains, and no one can stop it!”

I added, “Last night Trump held a press conference and whined and screamed and said, ‘We need to crack down on Illegal Wandering Uteruses Committing Voter Fraud. We must keep female reproductive organs from rigging this election and getting away with it.’ But no one’s listening to him anymore and he can’t stop it. Apparently it’s too much pussy for even him to grab.”

Eva the Ovum wrote back: “Wow.”

I wrote, “Your sacrifice, Eva, just might save our Democracy.”

A day later I got a text from Eva the Ovum. “I was so inspired by how our Wandering Uterus is trying to save the world that I’ve convinced all of us in Ovary Left and Right to ovulate all at once behind Hillary Clinton. After all, we are Stronger Together! Come on Girls! Let’s go fill out all those ovals!”

I sat back with a sense of a job well done. No more periods and a female president! What a great time to be alive!


The Laughing Coyote

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

How to Get Assaulted and Thrown Out of a Lesbian Dance by a Man

How to Get Assaulted and Thrown Out of a Lesbian Dance by a Man

For this pride season I thought I would offer advice for those women who would like to experience getting thrown out of a lesbian Pride dance by a bunch of men because one of the men grabs you aggressively and inappropriately. I’m writing this this weekend, in case any women would like to experience this in 2016-like at the All Woman Pride Dance tonight in Santa Fe. Maybe you can write a poem or short-story afterwards, or invent an interpretive dance, after having that kind of “learning experience.”

Setting the Stage for Your Assault

  1. First, it’s all in the planning. Make sure the LGBT planning committee hires a man with a reputation for violence to run the women’s lesbian dance venue. First things first. (Bear in mind these members may or may not have known about him beforehand.). It works either way.
  1. Second, insure the All Women’s Pride Dance is run by a someone who appears to really dislike (possibly even hate) women, evident from past behaviors and who also has a reputation for hostility and being very hard to work with or get along with. Remember women, if you want to get violated, you need to plan ahead and pay attention to these details!
  1. Make sure you hire exactly the man that the organizers for other Women’s Dances refuse to work with on the grounds that said man is rude, intransigent and impossible to work with.
  1. Make sure that all but one of the security team are men, hired by the highly problematic manager. Make sure she is a late arrival when the crisis goes down.

3b. For an added ironic twist, hire a gay man who has these behavioral traits.

  1. Insure that everyone in authority at the venue has been thoroughly schooled in the Blame the Victim Manual 101.

          Yes women this looks like a lot of work and what I’d say to that is: you gotta’ put the effort in so that you can assaulted easily and fluidly, no matter what you say in your defense when it goes down.

And then I would say: actually, this shit pretty much arranges itself—it’s like our culture is set up for this or something. So although it looks like it might be a difficult thing to arrange for a manager of a women’s dance to act threateningly to more than one woman at the dance, if you have the right ingredients, it is actually phenomenally easy! Who knew?

  1. Insure that the venue runs out of freely available water about 5 hours into the evening, on a summer night, making it necessary for all the women to go to the bartenders to get water, bearing in mind that most of the women had been buying liquor all night and that most women stop when they have had enough, so we aren’t banging into each other on the highway on the way home—I believe it is called Responsible Lesbian Drinking Behavior or RLDB.

Note that you only need one bad apple. The rest of the bartending staff can be courteous and enjoyable making sure that the women are lulled into a sense of safety at an All Woman Lesbian/Bi/Curious/Just-like-Jamming-with-Women- Dance during Pride.

6.   If you can control the weather, make sure it is very hot—that will be easy during Pride in Santa Fe in June because it’s usually quite hot and you can count on the fact that most Pride venues provide free tap water all weekend to keep people from passing out. That is a welcome and thoughtful thing, and many venues in Santa Fe do this year round in places where dancing occurs. Thus you, while setting up your own victimization, should not have a problem getting “free water,” into place, bearing in mind that you paid for the water as your price of admission to the venue.

(By the way Patriarchy, if we had equal status in society and made decent money percentage wise, we might buy more drinks at bars and perhaps start assaulting each other because we’re so drunk. So bartenders and managers start voting to equalize things for women. You will benefit. Terrorizing a woman for needing some water instead of more liquor is so last Tuesday.)

7. Instruct the manager of the venue to make speeches to the women who are seeking water to make them feel bad for not buying more liquor instead and to shame them for being thirsty and/or on a budget.

8. Make sure you do drink over the course of the evening so you can be blamed for being drunk. This is essential. If you don’t drink, then say you did because everyone knows that if a woman has had some alcohol, then everything that ensues afterwards, can be blamed on her: everything from being grabbed very aggressively and threateningly, to being raped. Even murdered. Well she was drunk, says the man, obviously I couldn’t help murdering her. Plus her legs were showing.

Remember drunk women are never raped or assaulted.

9. Again make sure the venue runs out of water, necessitating a request to provide more water in the big jug next to the bar, creating the whole domino effect.

10. Make sure security is trained to not listen to you once the drama goes down, so when the bartender starts screaming “Get her out of here! Get her out of here!” security simply surrounds you, putting their hands on you, even though you are just standing there with your plastic, 6 ounce, empty water cup saying, “He grabbed my arm and tried to pull me up into the bar in a very very angry manner and I simply threw ½ cup of water in his face so he would let go of me because I felt threatened and bewildered by being suddenly and angrily grabbed and almost jerked off my feet.”

You will probably find that you have to repeat yourself three times, and have to raise your voice, because the manager-bartender keeps screaming louder and louder as if he is a hysterical girl who has been bitten by a wild animal suddenly and without warning, even though he grabbed the animals paw and nearly pulled it off.


I have found as a teacher, it is helpful to give scenarios, or examples to students, of various social dynamics and principles. Thus I am providing a step-by-step example of one possible scenario that demonstrates how you can get thrown out of lesbian dance while defending yourself from a hostile man who is grabbing you and being threatening.

Here it is important to get a little backstory about the main female protagonist, so when you go to set up your own victimization you will be fully in character and able to manipulate all the variables to your satisfaction. (Or his satisfaction really, because that’s all that is important.) You have to understand how your life has created the seed such that you are the kind of woman who just asks for men to hit you, for example.


If you don’t understand the woman’s character and possibly deeply troubled past of having a Ph.D. in psychology and teaching in many university and college settings, and being a published writer, as well as her vocational background as a crisis counselor and assistant director running a group home for troubled adolescent girls, and being a lesbian bisexual, with various successful relationships, having good friends all over the United States, and having traveled abroad extensively, and having had many wonderful and illuminating hours being alive, as well as having a well-developed shamanic spiritual practice, that includes helping other people, you will not fully understand how all these events conspired to turn her into the kind of person who gets thrown out of a Lesbian Dance by, not just one man, but four.

Apparently this sordid past, and her tight red dress and education and ability to detect nuance and sexism, all led her down this train wreck of a situation of making a man assault her.

Women are such bitches, aren’t we? We should never be allowed to abort embryos, use birth control, vote in elections, or get an education because then we run around making men grab them inappropriately and scare them when we defend ourselves with ½ a glass of water.

Let’s run through a scenario:

Two women approach the bar, “Could we have two waters please. There is no more water available out here. The big jugs are empty.”

The manager-bartender hands over two waters in 6 ounce plastic cups. He goes and refills the jug at the side of the bar.

The two women, stand at the empty bar, discussing music and literature.

The bartender comes back, frowning and angry, buts into the conversation and says to the women in a hostile tone, “You should know that next time there won’t be water for you. Not anymore. Tomorrow night at our bar you’ll have to buy water. So be grateful that you are getting something for free tonight.”

The manager then stares at the women and then throws things around underneath the bar in a clunky way that sounds like frustration or anger.

The two women stare at him and then at each other. He stalks off to tend to something down at the other end of the bar. Both of them have purchased tickets. Both have purchased other beverages, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic throughout the evening and are thirsty because of dancing. Both are paying customers. Both have regularly patronized the local LGBT establishment in the past and spent plenty of money. Both are women.

The woman in the red dress says to her friend, “What’s that about?”  The shorter woman in pants frowns and says, “Why did he need to say that to us?”

(The next step is crucial.)

When the bartender comes back, the woman in the red dress says to him, “Why did you feel the need to say all that to us about the water?” (Make sure to come from the point of view that being rude to a customer over water is unjustified and that if she were a man, she wouldn’t let that kind of thing go either. What man would really let another man say to him: okay, but that’s all the free water you are getting tonight and you should be grateful. Bad boy. Bad bad boy.)

“What?” says the manager.

“Why did you need to say all that to us about the water. I mean it was kind of rude to say to us in the way you did, like we don’t deserv- ”

The manager then grabs the woman’s left arm that is sitting on the bar and jerks it hard, pulling her off balance in order to shove his face aggressively close to hers and angrily hissing “We spend too much fucking money on water for you women.”

Startled and scared and immediately self-protective, the woman in the red dress throws her cup of water, about 3 ounces because she’d drunk the rest, in the proprietor’s face in order to make him let go of her arm. Immediately the manager starts yelling,

“Get her out of here! Get her out of here! Get her out of here! Get her out of here!”  (Sounds like Donald Trump huh?)

And then one, then two, male security guards come in and without asking her what happened, grabs her arm telling her she has to leave. She says “Let go of me. Don’t touch me. He just assaulted me and grabbed my arm and was totally rude. I threw water in his face to make him let go.”

In the background, the manager, let’s say his name is Doug Nava, for example, is screaming like a girl, “Get her out of here, get her out of here!”

Meanwhile the woman’s friend is saying, “She didn’t do anything. He grabbed her. He was rude to us.”

Two more guards show up and encircle the woman in the red dress who is fiercely arguing her point. “No, he grabbed me. He put his hands on me. I didn’t do anything wrong. I threw the water on him so he’d let go of me. Do not touch me,” she says to the security guard who is trying to grab her arm, of course to escort her out. To his credit the guard let’s go of her arm.

Meanwhile the manager is yelling “She hit me! She hit me,” like the woman is Calamity Jane or something. (If she had been, he would not have been standing up anymore.)

And now her friends are showing up and saying, “Listen to her. Listen to what she is saying.”

The guards are now telling the two original women, plus any of the other women who are coming to her defense, that they all have to leave.

The woman says, “He puts his hands on me at a lesbian dance and you are saying I have to leave.”

Another woman says, “He shoved me earlier tonight when I was-”

And then another woman says, “He was so rude to a friend of mine tonight while she was trying to figure out what line to stand in to buy a drink ticket that she went home.”

One of the guards is saying, “Ma’am if you don’t leave now we are going to have to take you out by force.”

At this point one female security guard shows up, and says, “Yes I hear you, but it’s his venue and he hired the guards so what he says goes.”

The woman in the red dress says, “Oh so even though he assaulted me by grabbing my arm and being threatening, he gets the final say because he hired you.”

She hesitates and nods.

The woman who has been assaulted says, “So the security is about protecting the man who grabbed me in a totally aggressive and intimidating way and not about protecting the women and the paying customers at all.”

She said nothing, but the woman could tell she had made her point.

So at this point six  women surround the woman in the red dress and they all get thrown out of the dance.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! This is how this goal gets achieved! 

Outside the venue, the woman almost goes home and then decides she wants a record of the events, though it will not help her get un-thrown out of the dance, or un-manhandled by Nava, or the security guards, who at least, kept their paws off her when she demands they not touch her. Plus she figures she will need the police report to press charges if she decides to. (She decides not to because “being grabbed, yanked aggressively and angrily hissed at by the manager,” is may not go anywhere in court and she doubts she can corral the other women who have been the victims of his behavior and attitude to go along and it seems like a lot of work. Plus she knows she will likely be dragged through the mud. If he’d actually punched her, she would have gone through with it, but no one punched anyone. Had she actually punched the manager, as he claimed, she would have left marks for the police to take pictures and note. That did not happen. She was careful to not exaggerate about what he did either.)

Plus then she remembers I wanted this to happen. It’s my fault of course for not letting a man put his hands on me aggressively. This is what I set out to do tonight, get thrown out of a lesbian dance by an angry gay man. You’d think a gay man wouldn’t do that to a gay woman…but I’m obviously stupid.

Someone later will explain to the woman that his bar was imploding and he was mad because (theoretically anyway) he hadn’t made enough money that night to cover the costs. (The Blue Rooster will fold 4 months later, no doubt due to people avoiding the venue. Again it will be the woman’s fault.)

Now outside the venue, the woman calls the police and they show up and tell her that the manager has already called them and filed his report which says that she hit him. What a liar. The woman then files her own report, saying that that never happened and she has a witness, who corroborates the truth.

The police are courteous and professional and there is nothing outright to suggest they don’t believe her. They are men too, but many men are good upstanding people. This woman knows many such men, gay, straight and trans.

She files the report in case she needs the information later and to document what happened in case she wants to file charges of assault against him later. She wants her side of the story told. She’s not just going to sit there and take it, not from a man and not from anyone.


Soon the gay partner of the manager shows up and apologizes for what has happened and offers her and her friend free drinks at their bar down the road to which she says, “No thanks.”  He is not patronizing, but apologetic. She accepts his apology and suggests that the manager shouldn’t be managing people or running women’s dances.

The boyfriend (who will later break up with manager) refunds their money and asks her not to take it out on the bar. She agrees to nothing. He admits his partner has an anger problem.

So, Ladies, this is how to get assaulted by a man and thrown out of a Lesbian Dance during Pride celebrations. No doubt you will want to try this on your own! It’s easy to make this happen, apparently, no training is really necessary if you built the right ingredients.

Maybe in 2016 we can have several women being assaulted by straight men too. I am so looking forward to it.

At this junction the woman could congratulate herself on “getting a free dance.” Such manipulation, but all women are manipulative and need help from men to stay in control. Right?

Some of you may question how I know this scenario will work?

Because it’s all true and it happened to me. Minus the part of my setting it all up beforehand. That was irony and sarcasm to make a point: I, and everyone else, gay, lesbian, bi, straight, curious, and trans should be safe at a gay venue. Especially if we are all gay or friends of gays!

This is Laughing Coyote Reporting


Everyone have a safe and enjoyable Pride. Even you Nava. No doubt you have also been mistreated in your life.



Categories: Lesbian-Gay Humor, sexism, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

New Female Viagra Promises 1/2 More Orgasms Per Month to Women Who Are Still Conscious After Taking It

The new female Viagra, called flibanserin or Addyi, promises ½ more orgasms per month for women who are still conscious after taking the drug.

The up side of this is that while on flibanserin, you won’t need to drink because the medication provides for passing out already.

Apparently the drug comes with syncope, or random fainting spells, and a list of AA meetings, because you can’t drink at all when you are on the drug. (I suggested that the prescriptions be dispensed with a free portable fainting couch, but I was summarily dismissed by male doctors who know that women would just prefer to fall on the ground instead).

Presumably that extra ½ orgasm per month makes up for not being able to imbibe your favorite martini.

Researchers are not sure what happens with the ½ of the orgasm you are not having, which seems pretty uncomfortable to me.

Is your orgasm simply on pause, until the next calendar month? That will create some odd expressions while you are shopping, doing a Power Point presentation for shareholders, and caring for your kids. . . Don’t worry kids, mommy is just stuck in the middle of an orgasm she won’t have for another two weeks. Go do your homework.

“Woman paralyzed on bus from not being able to complete entire orgasm,” the Daily News reported last week.

Perhaps this is why women tend to pass out while taking Addyi? And you can’t even have a drink to relax while you are stuck in mid-getting off! I would think having to run around the planet trapped in mid-orgasm might be worse than not starting to have one to begin with.

It could also produce strange wrinkle lines for long time users.

This was denied by Sprout, yes the weirdest-name-ever-drug company that makes Addyi, a word that rhymes internally with Giddy-up, which I think would have been a far better name because isn’t that what they are doing to us? Giddy-up there women and hurry up and have some more orgasms that we can charge you for! Hurry Up might have been an even better name. (Why don’t drug manufacturers ever consult me about these things?)  Hurry Up and have that half an orgasm that you are still paying full price for.

          Hurry Up and come faster and more often so men don’t have to learn about relationships and pleasuring a woman, and learning the difference between a clitoral orgasm, a uterine orgasm and a full-on G-spot orgasm that comes from deep under the earth and ruins your carpeting, not to mention how to make a woman come so hard she spews liquid in all directions: Why should women be the only ones with faces full of cum? (Oh I’m sorry, ‘female ejaculate.’)

Look folks, my political correctness is slipping, I’ve been stuck with only half of my last orgasm for four weeks now, and the rest of the climax is overdue, and I’m overwrought with anxiety because I’m worried that the 2nd half of my medically induced orgasm is going to show up at the wrong time, like my next job interview (because dealing with a month long 1/2 of an orgasm got me fired), while I’m piloting a plane, at a political rally against Donald Trump….actually I want it to show up when Bernie Sanders finally admits that Hillary beat the crap out of him fair and square. Ahhhhhh that feels so good!

 Hurry Up! so women themselves don’t have to take responsibility for knowing how to create and direct their own pleasure. Why take personal responsibility for your libidinal expression when you can pay to take a pill that lowers blood pressure, is very hard on the liver, creates fainting spells and has its own black box warning right out of the gate? The logo should read: Take flibanserin, before it gets banned!

The pharmaceutical company, Sprout, refused to say if some women pass out while having that extra .5 to 1 whole orgasm per month. But fainting can be a plus if you really aren’t that into your partner, and a double-plus plus for men who would rather have sex with an unconscious woman.

This Half-an-Extra-Orgasm Pill can sort of treat your blues too because it was originally developed as an SSRI to treat depression. Personally, I know that ½ more orgasms per month, despite the facial tics I’m developing, has totally turned around my Major Depressive Disorder!

Addyi apparently can provide cures for psychological disorders, as well as make a woman more independent of her partner, an unintended consequence, but real nonetheless.  Below is a testimonial from Dora, who spend years in therapy and in an unhappy marriage. She reports,

“Praise Jesus, I know having one more orgasm, even an increase of half-an orgasm per month, made all the difference in my life. My life went from being fucking meaningless to be completely fulfilling all without having to change my relationship with my partner, myself, or making my man learn how to really make me come. It’s a Partner in a Pill I must say. Now that I have Addyi, I really don’t need a relationship.”

So even though Addyi, a name which sounds like a sexually repressed jihadist might make on the way to blowing up an air terminal-

Or is that the sound the woman makes while having that .5 to 1 more fulfilling sexual experiences?

Or is that the sound she makes when paying for the prescription?

Or the sound that a woman makes when fainting on the cement?

Or was it the sound the original researchers made when it failed to work as an anti-depressant, and failed the first two applications to the FDA as a libido pill, for not demonstrating enough positive effects, to make the side effects worth it?

Addyi! Addyi! Addyi!

(Why did it get passed? Politics and money. The product has not changed.)

Addyi! Addyi! Addyi!

Or was it the sound of the original developers killing themselves so as not to report another failed product to the shareholders? (Addyi does rhyme with Hari-Kari).

Or is it the sound a woman should make when reading the side-effects in THE LITTLE BLACK BOX that comes with the medication. Yes, Female Viagra comes with its own Black Box warning from the get go.  Unlike Prozac and Zoloft which took over 20 years, Addyi has a black box warning now, which is the most severe warning of possible life threatening side effects that can exist on consumer medication.

Maybe the fact that the word “flibanserin” has the word “ban” in it is a bit of oracular truth in all the propaganda. And that’s the prediction some experts are making (see below for a list of informative links below this blog post), namely that the drug will probably be pulled off the market in a couple of years, either due to side-effects or ineffectiveness, but that will be after the pharmaceutical company makes a bunch of money.

Or maybe Addyi! is the sound of a somatic and psychological jihad perpetrated upon women by profit and patriarchal driven big business and medicine, just because men have often suffered from the delusion that there is something wrong with feminine sexuality, when most of the time there isn’t. I think we should develop a pill for Male Sexist Delusion Disorder or MSDD. Women would buy this pill for the men in their lives (and for the insufferable women like Condoleezza Rice and Phyllis Schlafely who do their dirty work for them).

What should give us women, and anyone related to a woman, pause is that Addyi affects the nervous system of the woman, not blood flow to the organs, like in the case of Viagra. Something else: SSRI’s, of which Addyi is one, are known to cause lower libido in patients that are taking it. How in the world can a class of medications known to lower sexual libido be marketed as a libidinal enhancer?

WTF is right!

That’s like trying to sell Valium as all night study aid.

Furthermore, only 10 percent of the sample patients who participated in three studies showed any improvement in libido or orgasm at all. That means that for every 10 women who take it, only 1 will have that oh-so-sought-after ½ of an orgasm per month that will make all the difference. Third, “low libido,” only exists in a fraction of the women in the United States and then you have to measure whether or not “low libido” in those women is in fact a problem. Fourth, the drug can’t be used in menopausal women or post-menopausal women which is when most women might actually need or want it, and fifth, most libido problems are emotional, psychological or hormonal and Addyi does nothing to address the hormones and there’s no real proof it really does anything significant, that ½ orgasm notwithstanding.

I think just getting really drunk before having sex, if you feel inhibited, just might be the more prudent course of action.

It’s what I plan to go back to if I can ever stop fainting!

But Seriously Folks…

I would hesitate myself to take a drug that affects the entire nervous system, with serious possible side effects that compound if a person drinks alcohol, such that no alcohol use at all is recommended while taking the drug. It’s stupid to take medication when there’s no solid evidence to support its need or its efficacy.

Most sexual issues can be remedied by education about how to pleasure and self-pleasure and addressing issues with the partner, that includes knowledge about how women’s arousal patterns and sexual needs are different than those of men and probably will never be remedied by a pill, unless it is one that just makes people horny. Why haven’t we just prescribed rufies or rohypnal for all these women?

Oh yeah, the unconsciousness part!  Apparently this is only legal if a pharmaceutical company does it!

Addyi! Addyi! Addyi!

This harkens back to medicine’s habit and psychiatry’s habit of pathologizing an aspect of women’s sexuality and then medicating the woman for it and in this case, marketing it to make money until people realize that it is dangerous and doesn’t work.

More information is available in the links below and though I find the concept of ¼ an orgasm funny (I had to cut down my dosage), I think flibanserin is an attempt to exploit women and men’s desire for more complete and enjoyable sexuality. Addyi is no Viagra, that’s for sure.


Laughing Coyote

Web Links for your information below

Pertinent links so you can see some of the research and do your own.

Documentary on the attempt to develop a libido enhancer for women  “Orgasm, Inc.”

“On average, treatment with Addyi increased the number of satisfying sexual events by 0.5 to one additional event per month over placebo. Across the three trials, about 10 percent more Addyi-treated patients than placebo-treated patients reported meaningful improvements in satisfying sexual events, sexual desire or distress. Addyi has not been shown to enhance sexual performance.”


“Because of severe side effects Public Citizen, a consumer watchdog group says  Addyi will be pulled from the shelves in a few years time because of “serious dangers to women, with little benefit” to them.

“Unfortunately, we haven’t heard the last of this drug,” the group added.

“This is a product that is neither very effective nor particularly safe”” Dr. Susan Wood, a former FDA official told the NBC, adding that she was disappointed by the approval. “It won’t benefit many women and at the same time the approval comes with a lot of restrictions, setting a precedent that a drug for women’s sexual health has to be treated in a very special way.”

October 2010 The FDA rejects Boehringer Ingelheim’s flibanserin for female sexual disorder, saying there is little evidence it increases libido and citing unacceptable side-effects. The company sells it to Sprout.

October 2013 Second FDA rejection.

Categories: psychology humor, Sexual humor, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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