To make this week’s Misogynist Soup, you will need the following ingredients:
The California Milk Processor Board.
The streets of Afghanistan.
Score — it comes in pink, every girl’s favorite color. Photo via Qream with a Q.
Rapper/singer/record producer Pharrell Williams no longer just composes music — now he’s composing drinks. Perpetually plagued by his concern for the pleasure of women (as evidenced by lyrics like “Take it off now girl / Take it off / I’m a master, baby / With your bra” or “We gon’ double your heart / Great form lady / Just dim the lights / I’mma beat the [expletive] like you never ever felt before”), he has decided the perfect audience for his new adult beverage are ladies. After surveying the alcohol market, Pharrell felt like women were being neglected by booze choices — a problem he’s solved with the creation of his liqueur, Qream. Qream will nourish your night with the same alcohol content as wine, but you won’t have to worry about those pesky calories. According to Pharrell, “a woman doesn’t feel like she’s gained ten pounds just by thinking about it, let alone drinking it.” He noted that he wants women to be able to “reward themselves deliciously,” as “women make up half the population and Qream is about celebrating that power.” I personally can’t wait to kick off Happy Hour by leaving whiskey and beer to the boys and raising a toast to “my power” with a drink that caters to my obvious low-calorie requirement as a woman. Hopefully all these calories we’ll be shaving off won’t have any impact on the “loaf of bread” butts we have that Pharrell so dearly cherishes. Cheers!
You don’t even need a prescription! Photo via Everything I Do is Wrong.
The California Milk Processor Board of “Got Milk?” fame launched a new campaign that speaks to the media’s most forgotten demographic — straight men, of course! These lads face a unique monthly burden of getting heckled by premenstruating shrews, but it’s nothing a few drops of calcium can’t remedy. And if there’s any fallout, the campaign also offers some handy phrases to help diffuse the situation, such as “I apologize for letting you misinterpret what I was saying,” or “I’m sorry I listened to what you said and not what you meant.” Classic! Furthermore, secondhand PMS sufferers can visit EverythingIDoIsWrong.org, the campaign’s official website, which reports the “Global PMS Level” (currently red); a “Puppy Dog-eye-zer,” so men can practice their helpless expressions in response to our outbursts; and an “Emergency Milk Locator,” in the event the refrigerator is empty when we get super-psycho. Just toss a carton at us, tell us it’s all your fault with a wink, and watch us transform. Surely there’s a Nobel Peace Prize in the making here. Steve James, executive director of the California Milk Processor Board, describes this campaign as being “funny” and “good-natured,” as the “humor will allow people to laugh at themselves.” So next time you’re feeling “passionate” (the campaign’s recommended substitution for words like “irrational”) and bloated as you’re curled up on the crouch nursing your cramps with a heating pad, just laugh. PMS symptoms are a joke, and our suffering should be exploited for giggles and milk sales. Ha.
Source: The New York Times.
Awesome Afghan women marching in the country’s capital. Photo via Reuters.
Twenty or so women marched in Kabul, Afghanistan, last week in protest of the harassment they face in public places. Extreme examples of street harassment include acid attacks and gas poisonings to Afghan schoolgirls, but the protestors receive milder forms of this abuse on such a regular basis that it makes even day-to-day living a challenge. The protest’s organizer, Noor Jahan Ahbar, has faced harassment so intense that she has become hesitant to walk anywhere. “The idea behind street harassment is that women should not be out of their houses,” she said. “We want to fight that mentality because we believe that these streets belong to us as much as they belong to the men of this country.” Considering there are very few days when I can make the two-block walk to my car from my apartment without someone rolling down their window to comment on my appearance or imply that I exchange sexual services for money, I suppose I should take note that at least American men have evolved from not wanting us outside at all to approving of our presence in the great outdoors, but not knowing how to react appropriately when they see us there. But either way? Not funny. Not fair. Not okay.
Combine all ingredients and bring them to a boil, much like my blood pressure is at the moment. You’ll know it’s done when it tastes like misogyny with a hint of “please tell me this isn’t real life.” Enjoy!