The Maenad's Bone Garden

A rant.  There are two things I’m never ever going to write unless presented with specific kinds of sell-out money – something six or seven figures. Transition narratives and some meandering plodding thing talking about how much I resent being a mother.  Each is 'the pigeonhole' – the thing that as trans people and women respectively we are "expected" to write. Fucking ew. The second one is soaking in biological essentialism and women as second class citizens. Also, I’d have to actually lie – I’d have to have been able to have a say in raising my child for me to be able to hold it in contempt. I don’t, and never have encountered a single one of those that didn’t leave me with a feeling of “must be nice to be that much of an asshole.”  My kid wound up with her Trump voting relatives for high school because birth-mom had better things to do.  Now she runs with Godslurping dipshits and wears an NRA hat.    Besides, I'm from Texas. There was NEVER a p...

  Hey you, Two Car Home   I urge you, at least one in your lifetime, especially if you are affluent or middle class comfortable to deliberately put yourself alone in a sink or swim situation   - you will find that you have capabilities and skillsets that you did not know you possessed or would ever have known you have an affinity for. How does it feel when you wield that baton, holding your thick leather stick so firmly.   Is it really a substitute?     All of you nut flexers who have some need to be perceived as dangerous you would fold like fuck in five minutes of my life.   I laugh at your bullshit with casual disregard. Don’t bring what you can’t bring to my door. I refuse to life a life hemmed in by your insecurities and hang-ups. You are the one with the problem so let me suggest you-  (select any of the following trite phrases I’ve heard before)   Man up Walk that shit off Rub some dirt in it   If you need ...