* Dan Savage weighs in on vajazzling:

So I have to know, Dan: What is your opinion on vajazzling? – Vajazzle Azzle Gadazzle

Asking for my opinion on vajazzling, VAG, is like asking a vegan for her opinion on the wallpaper in a steak house. I’m simply too revolted by what’s on the menu to take much notice of the décor.

Vaginas: Revolting no matter what, so why bother with the appliqué?

* Via Feminine Things, the argument for why schools should not alert students to acquaintance rapes on campus.

* Old, but good: I Blame the Patriarchy on men in wedding dresses:

When I got a spam for “men in wedding dresses” this morning I thought, hell yeah! I sure do wanna see some men in wedding dresses. I bet men look even more asinine in wedding dresses than women do. And who doesn’t want to look at something asinine first thing on Sunday morning?

Men universally look asinine in women’s clothes, yeah? The reason for this, and for mild funniness in other low forms of humor, is incongruity. Nothing says “I submit to my species’ disdain and surrender forthwith any claims to my own humanity” quite like a wedding dress. Women’s clothes are designed, according to a rigorous standard of misogyny, to communicate that the wearer is totally up for self-abasement. Men, on the other hand, are required by law not to be totally up for self-abasement. Therefore, in accordance with the laws of patriarchy, comedy and gender, a dude in a wedding dress is improbable and unnatural, thus causing the observer to laugh or retch or curl a cynical lip.

s.e. smith writes a Dear Dear Abby: Please do not explain away sexual assault by calling it “hitting on another woman.”

* John DeVore of the Frisky advises women to ask men out on dates, then insists (thrice!) that the woman need not foot the bill:

If a woman asks a man out on a date, she is not obligated to buy dinner. I just wanted to clear that up. . . . don’t worry about the bill. I’ve actually been asked this question. The dude will take care of it because that’s what dudes do. There are some things the male species will always be in charge of, like bear defense. You know what else? Buying dinner on the first date. (Dear Testicles: She’s going to spend time and money getting her hot on anyway.) . . . Now make sure you look gorgeous. And don’t worry: He’ll get the check. If he doesn’t, he’s a donkey pizzle.

I love that DeVore’s imaginary female reader is so afeared of being expected to pay for anything ever that she avoids social situations because of it.  You figured us out, man! We’re so nervous about the possibility of whittling away our petty women’s salaries on the beers of our suitors that we have instead spent centuries waiting for men to initiate all romantic contact. Also, we refer to men who have earned our disdain as “donkey pizzles.”

Image via freeparking, Creative Commons Attribution License 2.0