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Why the fuck her trainer put her in a “pro” fight after less than two months of training… shit. This is why women’s boxing gets a bad rap. There’s nothing inherently wrong with ritualized violence (sports), so long as everybody knows what they’re getting into and everybody plays by the ritual’s rules. When you don’t, […]

So, Ikea’s getting tapped for its sexist male-only assembly brochures. Living in a place where Jenn and I (yes, that’s two women, no men) put together every stick of the copious Ikea furniture in the place, I find the idea of hiding the sexism in furniture manuals by pleading it’s about “not offending” people (like

From a speculative essay on the origin of human history, by our dear friend and philosophy canon member Immanuel Kant: “In the course of time, however, the growing luxury of the town-dwellers, and in particular the seductive arts in which the women of the towns surpassed the unkempt wenches of the wilderness, must have been

Another day, another dollar. Back in New Jersey. Last fucking week in NJ, dammit. Only mildly sleep deprived, because I was smart enough to take a Tylenol PM last night. Stuck in the Tuesday conference calls of doom: eight to nine hours of `um. Yum. Here’s a great idea for running your project – Fly

Jason’s got some thoughts up on polyamory (I’m going to say polyamory as opposed to polygamy, because I feel that polyamory implies that everyone involved is marrying *each other* as opposed to polyandry or polygmany, in which it’s more along the lines of one person of one sex marrying a bunch of people of the

Amanda and Bitch Ph.D. and Media Girl, on PP as well. Glad I decided to write about this one; sometimes going real personal can bring it home.

Well, Kirstie Alley’s Fat Actress is gonna be out soon; not that I’m going to see it, cause I don’t watch tv, but I’ve been interested in the tabloid interest in her and the show.. mainly because she’s 5’8 and considered an obese balloon at her highest weight of…. drumroll…. 203 lbs. Um. 203 lbs

Because we don’t talk about our uteruses enough. I hadn’t been in for my yearly exam in about three years, when I had to get a clean bill of health in order to get a student visa for South Africa, and it was About That Time again. I chose to go to my old friend

Working on getting my shit together. Feeling incredibly slothful. I’ve pretty much reached the breaking point with the traveling stuff – I haven’t done a bit of cardio work at all this week, and only a couple days of weights. It’s tragic. And I can feel it. The writing’s gone by the wayside, and about

Of course, all the strength in the world won’t help you a wit if… you forget the Ikea box with the actual bed slats in it. Yes, I have three academic degrees. Fucking shit. Guess who’s sleeping on the floor tonight? Brilliant.