LEYKIS 101 - (link poem)

Hey man, the way some men see it,

They’re a black horse

She’s Hoss

He’s biting at a bit while lost, dragging the wagon

She’s a sitting pretty boss but standing, a fist with a kiss

Digging for Goldilocks’ rocks,

Cross that she rules through woes

Because her flesh is tender and can easily bruise

They see their entitlement, not as a misuse,

But as vengeance.

They want to drink alcohol until four,

Play Xbox with their boyz,

Watch all of the sports and WrestleMania.

They’re all into action flicks

And have Magnum dicks

Guns mean their liberation

And they are under no obligation to hold the door anymore…

Children aren't raised, they’re kidnapped.

They’re pawns in a system that just goes on & on.

But she’s the one dancing with ties tied to her arms.

She’s the one the serpent charmed.

Chained to your side, with a strange face for love.

Taking innocence like a man…

Richard Ramirez as ‘Night Stalker’ but that’s not him,

He’s just a bad-ass motherfucker

That would chop her up and eat her up if he could.

Because she looks that good.

But don’t expect him home for dinner.

He’s too busy torturing a neighbor girl with paint thinner.        

How The Facebook Page For 12 Year Old Rapist Memes Just Became Munchausen Syndrome's Facebook Page

So...it all started with this article by Mary Elizabeth Williams called 'The War On 12-Year-Old-Girls', it has since ended in the film 'Eden'.

I'm currently reading 'What Do Women Want? Adventures in the Science of Female Desire' by Daniel Bergner and this is after reading Peggy Orenstein's 'Cinderella Ate My Daughter' while endeavoring to get through 'Gulp' by Mary Roach.

During this recent reading journey what I've come to realize is that the ceaseless cries of manufactured males, screaming frat house catch phrases at each other and putting Revenge Porn on the internet, is a culture war, this is a knowledge war, yet we are in the midst of a Communications Revolution and we can literally just MAKE our own culture, we don't have to buy it any more.

I decided to retaliate against 12 Yr Old Sluts because grown men calling children sluts is not okay.  It's not something I could personally condone.  Something in me, perhaps a higher calling of maternal instinct kicked in (which is how a childless woman can still be an asset to society) and I lashed out.  I made a 12-Year-Old-Rapist-Meme Facebook page hoping that by pointing out the irony of being completely unable to identify a twelve year old boy as a rapist, raped, or promiscuous is impossible to discern in a glance or a once over but why do so many males do that with such a sense of correctness to us?

You're either too old, too young, too overweight, too crazy, too smart, too loud, too emotional...too much or not enough of something to earn his complete respect let alone a wedding ring.  So many males seem to just stop seeing their multitude of flaws, the same eyes that see each imperfection and short-coming of every aspect of our being.  We have men who are political/religious/media leaders blaming women in the workforce as part of the collapse of the American Family Unit, while they demonstrate more person-hood to a fetus than an actual person who's already here on the planet, who like to judge the so-called welfare queens for expecting handouts, where we are told having an abortion makes us more susceptible for breast cancer, we are paid less, underrepresented and OVER sexualized in the media (to the point where spell check keeps asking if instead of sexualized did I mean serialized) , office boardrooms, and politics--all while more households have a single head whom is a woman.

When did men start to think it's okay, even funny, to bully, taunt, cyber-stalk, and commit a thousand other sexual slights to our mothers, daughters, sisters, maybe actually to you?--has it always been?--will it always be?  Why has feminine energy been reduced to sex and motherhood with a thousand frivolous vanities?  And why are so many females compliant to just go along with it?  Are they that ignorant of reality?

But back to the topic at hand, the updated FB page, none of my memes on Rapist 12 Year Olds after the first few days were true to the page's theme.  I didn't promote it a lot, only had three likes, and all my comments were from angry males insulted by the page that found it difficult to articulate as to why.

This blog gets far more steady traffic and I wanted to share my collection of articles and pictures with you, constant reader, thus retiring the tittle of 12-Year-Old-Rapist-Memes to Munchausen Syndrome.

The preordained kyriarchy we are enmeshed in is a Munchausen syndrome that needs to end in this generation so that other generations may live harmoniously instead of in the hellish discord we've been experiencing.

Thank you for reading.  Please, feel free to visit the new Munchausen Syndrome Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/Munchausen.Syndrome.Zizzer.Zazzer.Zuzz and share what needs sharing.

Stuck In The Middle With BobbySue

In the mornings when I’m getting ready for work, I listen to Lisa Landry on Pandora.  Despite her being a stand-up comedian, her antidotes can be terrifying.  A domestic soothsayer of sorts, she can warn of the trials and errors of marrying the wrong man, the man obsessed with recipes, siring a son, and having dedicated bowls for keys; motherhood as a forced burden -not a blessed reward.  This morning my mind began to drift to the time when I first—and coincidentally last time—ever douched.

My first—and only—girlfriend, BobbySue Elisabeth Dawn McGraw insisted upon me having the experience.  Said nothing could make you feel, cleaner.  I remembered the rush of mint on the insides, an enema for the soul, tingling, the ultimate hygiene.

I’ve only read one account on the act of female douching and it was written by Stephen King in ‘The Dead Zone’.  The female character Sarah uses it to supplement sex, in order to quell her sex drive, to the point of it hurting her.

And I realized the extreme disconnect between Sarah and BobbySue.

BobbySue had had so many dicks in her, including her step-fathers, in her childhood, where in her adulthood she would go from door to door in a fully lite house checking doorknobs to make sure they were still locked.  Door to door, room to room.  She snorted heroin to forget how in the middle of the night, he’d single her out from her other siblings who reached to protect her, a part of her mind still always hiding in cubby holes and running away from home.  Eventually when she would depart and become under the custodianship of her biological father, since he was a crack-head, got her addicted to crack and pimped her out to support their now completely justifiable habit at twelve years of age.  BobbySue spent so much time getting herself sent to juvenile prison on purpose, by the time I met her when she was 24, she was illiterate. 

So this morning, sometime between washing my face and brushing my teeth, I wondered as to why BobbySue had so loved that summer eve’s feeling and knew why.  She was washing all that evil dick out of her.  All that had terrified her.  All that had immobilized her.  All that had confused her.  All of her self-loathing, guilt, and disgust.  Each dick no better than a fucking ‘Sorry!’ game piece stealing her love, her innocence, parts of her soul.

Rape is not merely the violation of a human body, it is the violation of a human soul.  You are not inside of just their body.  You are inside of their mind.  You are inside of their soul.  And you are a violator.  You trespass and desecrate a sacred temple.  When bones are broken, a life is broken.  It is the ultimate invasion and force of will.

It’s not sexy, it’s not hot, and not every woman has a “Rape Fantasy” but every woman has a real, legitimate fear of rape or else there would be more female midnight runners.

Women don’t douche because they want dick, they douche because they had too much.  They douche because that dick has soiled their very soul, their zombi.  They douche for rebirth of self.  For a wound that never heals.  Marked from birth, a less than.  A slut slot for your comedic undoing.  In your house?  Has your last name?  That bitch is your property, do what you will.  The broken American women and girls will just continue to douche privately in their bathrooms and not write about why.  Because maybe like my BobbySue, they were molested ever since they could remember by a man they had to call father.  

BobbySue’s mother in denial or worse yet, victim blaming.  Like my own mother was doing the other day about Amanda Berry. 

Feminism worked?

If Wikipedia gets their way, I’ll get categorized an American woman writer.