That's really scary, Erin. I'm glad he chose the stereo.
It's about imposing your ________ (fill in the blank: rage, powerlessness, misogyny, etc) on someone perceived as either a victim, or someone the rapist wants to place in that victim role, for whatever pathology of theirs.
V. true. Unfortunately, so often, violence begets violence, and perpetrators are very likely survivors themselves, either of child sexual abuse, rape, DV, sexual assault in prison, or some other violence that fuels that rage, sense of powerlessness, misogyny, etc. Not that that excuses their behavior, either. There are a lot of ways to respond to shit that happens to you, obvs.
ION, just found two camel crickets in my bedroom. Killed one, one got away. How am I supposed to sleep now? It will definitely jump on my face in the night. Definitely.
What is a camel cricket? And why would you say that about it jumping on your face?! God, now I'm not going to sleep.
Convincing people I am Too Damn Much Trouble -- this could be my superpower.
And here I am stuck with my superpower--being able to go the whole day without peeing. It just doesn't compare.
It's other men that are helpless in the throes of all these sluttily dressed women.
Yeah, that's why those other men attempt to rape the sluttily dressed women the second they see them: when the women are surrounded by bouncers and cops or have ready access and ability to use 911 or weapons. Their fierce lusts never let them wait until the sluttily dressed woman is alone in a parking garage or until the roofies have taken effect. Oh, wait . . .
Camel crickets are like jumping roaches. They are crickets that don't chirp and jump and live all up in the woods surrounding our apartments and once the weather gets warm they come in and GAAAAAH! They are creeeepy.
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amyth, the other one was probably so intimidated by what you did to its comrade that it fled the house.
Oh, and they jump AT you. They have no fear. And one was on my nightstand once and did jump on my face. It happened. That's why they must always die. Always. But they're fast.
I'd like to believe that, Dana. I'd like to believe that. I may have to crank the AC and sleep completely encased in my blankets like a mummy.
Even now, that cricket has gone back and is telling all of the other crickets, in hushed whispers, "Seriously, that woman's crazy. Give her a wide berth."
