Stuff Rachel Fucking Hates

Youtube Comments. All of them. Forever. And by “youtube comments”  I mean “comments on anything I read on the internet ever.”

88 Minutes. This is an Al Pacino movie that I had never seen before my dad was watching it on cable one night a few weeks ago. I wouldn’t have believed it was real if I hadn’t seen it myself. You know how Twilight only has two kinds of scenes? Edward doing hella creepy stuff, or Edward and Bella staring at each other soulfully? 88 Minutes only has two kinds of scenes: Al Pacino doing stuff that makes no fucking sense, and really graphic, unnecessary depictions of women being raped, beaten, kidnapped, tortured, held at gunpoint, tied up, bleeding, or suspended from the ceiling by rock-climbing-enthusiast serial killers. I am being literal here – those scenes make up roughly 50% of the movie. I’m going to go ahead and put a trigger warning on this – it will be offensive and upsetting to anyone who expects a rational plot or thinks women are people.

Rape. I’m not even going to fucking go into it. Suffice to say someone was brutally raped, again, and there is a pathetically limited but still important way you can help, again:  donate to her recovery fund is here.

These pants. Maybe it’s a sign I am getting old, but all I could think was “Oh, she would be sent to the principal’s office for violating the school dress code SO fast.” (obvs found via Sociological Images.)

Academic studies of gender roles in seventeenth-century British theater. There. I said it.

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