STRIKE this sh*t

by Karene Horst, contributing editor

That’s it.  I’ve had it.  I’m going on strike.  

Let me clarify.  I’m going on a shaving strike. That’s right. I’m no longer shaving my legs until the government stops messing with access to safe, legal abortion for the entire period of a woman’s pregnancy.

The Divine Miss M, Bette Midler, suggested via tweet that women stop having sex with men ” … until [women] are guaranteed the right to choose by Congress.”

But for me, a sex strike would not do the trick. If I were to make that announcement, I bet quite a few guys out there would breathe a sigh of relief.  “Dodged that bullet!” they’d jovially quip to each other.

Still, I’m sure a couple dudes would feel a tad dismayed if I publicly renounced sexual relations. A little sad. The economically disadvantaged who have given up the online dating thing because that photo of him with his motorcycle on Plenty of Fish never earned any winks.

I’ve actually been on a sex strike more or less for quite some time and no one has noticed. First of all I was married for almost 20 years.  Then I hit my horny 40s with a vengeance as a lusty divorcee, but I’m ending my sixth decade on this planet deeply disappointed in most things male.

Besides, as a “woman of a certain age,” my prospects are pretty dismal to say the least. 

Sure there’s a guy once in a while who will leer suggestively, or at least hopefully, in my direction. My options are all either dead broke divorced dads looking for a free babysitter slash housekeeper or some guy in his seventies hoping for one last curtain call before his adult kids cart him off to the nursing home. 

Most eligible men my age are poaching on the 30-something crowd. Nothing cracks me up more to see these fading wannabe hipsters pushing strollers and hauling diaper bags after their young hottie hears the alarm go off on her biological clock.  

Of course men will settle for a comely 40-something with money, but as an almost 60-year-old, I’m not even a blip on their radar screen.

All’s good. I prefer to fly solo.  I’m not interested in wrestling with viagra-induced erections or providing entertainment once his favorite porn site gets shut down.

So I won’t officially join the sex strike, and I doubt I’ll cross that picket line. Instead, I’m hoping my scruffy shins send shivers along the spines of every self-righteous asshole who feels he/she/it has the right to dictate what a woman chooses to do with her body.

These cultural weasels want women out of the boardroom and back in the bedroom and the kitchen: at home raising children. Forever economically hamstrung so we keep our mouths shut and do what we’re told if we want to keep our meal ticket or avoid a beating.

With the “pro-life” crowd, it’s not just about abortion. It’s about ANYTHING a woman does. What a woman wears. What a woman says.

These cultural weasels want women out of the boardroom and back in the bedroom and the kitchen: at home raising children. Forever economically hamstrung so we keep our mouths shut and do what we’re told if we want to keep our meal ticket or avoid a beating.

A sex strike targeting men punishes lucky pro-choice women who can snag the young studs still worth the trouble.

So let’s stop shaving and plucking and lasering and waxing and tweezing and start subjecting hapless humanity to pubic hair sprawling across our butt cheeks and down our thighs while we sport thong bikinis!

Spider-like bristles crawling across skin. Long, black whiskers oozing from chins, noses, and eyebrows.  Unappetizing tufts of hair poking out from our armpits. With these offensive weapons we will disgust and dismay everyone, even those patsies for the patriarchy like Congressmoron Marjorie Taylor Greene.

Anti-choice maggots deserve this punishment.  So do those of you who vote for politicians supporting these laws despite your personal belief in the right to abortion, or your general ambivalence on the issue. Men and women who simply ignore the hostile bullshit that has mired our country with all sorts of disgusting misogynistic laws interfering with women’s healthcare, you shall also suffer.

In addition to countless abusers, wife-beaters and vicious beasts in power, from Congress to courtrooms and positions of authority across this country, in 2016 we put an “alleged”* rapist in the Oval Office, who then nominated an “alleged”* wannabe rapist to the US Supreme Court. 

Legislators in our country have tried to require that women seeking abortions undergo medically unneccesary and physically invasive transvaginal ultrasounds. That’s nothing short of legalized rape.  

But why am I surprised. In addition to the countless abusers, wife-beaters and vicious beasts in power, from Congress to courtrooms and positions of authority across this country, in 2016 we put an “alleged”* rapist in the Oval Office, who then nominated an “alleged”* wannabe rapist to the US Supreme Court. 

In 2018 a majority of the US Senate happily approved seating a judge on the high court, the same judge who has displayed complete disdain for the constitutional legal precedent set by Roe v. Wade. This jerk was accused of trying to assault a 15-year-old female when he was seventeen. The majority of the senators disregarded this and other complaints against him because they lacked forensic, corroborated proof without a reasonable doubt.  The FBI’s minimalist investigation avoided interviews with potential witnesses who partied with the “alleged”* wannabe rapist and who might have provided testimony on how the nominee lied under oath to Congress about his youthful drinking problem that probably contributed to his outrageous behavior toward women.   

And this was a job interview!  Those senators did not need to prosecute the Kaveman for a crime. They had to decide if he was fit to serve a lifetime appointment on the US Supreme Court. 

Judicial temperament my ass.  A national legal precedent has been set and I can’t wait for my next job interview.  To hell with dyeing my frazzled mop to cover those unattractive grays or brushing my teeth.  I’m showing up with a margarita and an attitude.

If some chick accused Colin Kaepernick of the same behavior, hell if Colin just looked lasciviously in a woman’s direction, those good ol’ boys in Washington D.C and their buddies would have lynched Colin.  Whipped on their white hoods and dragged him behind a truck.  A Ford pickup truck. 

We “alleged”* victims of sexual assault needed this perennial reminder that white men are not rapists, they are simply exercising their god-given right to be boys who will be boys. Executive privilege.

Then #HimToo sputtered into a thing, a disgusting thing really.  Pundits and social commentators bemoaned this frightening change of circumstances for strapping young lads. Even our then $?&!!@# president bemoaned the fearful world order wrought by women standing up to their attackers, declaring this “a very scary time for young men in America.”  

Throughout this alarming period, brave men confessed through social media about their fears and nightmares of some deranged woman crawling out of the woodwork and accusing them of sexual assault, ruining their careers, their marriages, possibly even disturbing their golf game. 

Still, some of those same men persevered, continuing to leave their homes at night, driving through the dark to risk everything at some bar or strip joint. Oh, what heroes!

In the meantime, I’m growing a frizzy assault on a society desperate to mold women into docile Barbie dolls with perfectly coiffed, preferably blond locks sprouting only in socially-approved areas.

But back to the shaving-strike deal.

Of course some “good” guys will beg for a visual reprieve.

Tough.  Collective guilt.  Grow a pair.

In the meantime, I’m growing a frizzy assault on a society desperate to mold women into docile Barbie dolls with perfectly coiffed, preferably blond locks sprouting only in socially-approved areas. One strand at a time.

So let’s have at it, Ladies. And why stop at unsightly hair on our luscious bods. Stop holding back on the burps, belches and farts. Scratch haphazardly at inappropriate places in public. And ditch those damn bras. Of course, not you young lovelies — the creeps crave that tantalizing vision.  Make sure those healthy, bouncing beauties are securely tucked away from public view. Let’s force them to focus on post-menopausal globular sacks hanging past bulging, puckered bellies.

Gross everyone out until they learn to respect the awesome power of the female physique. Then leave us the fuck alone!

*under legal advice the term “alleged” is used loosely to cover the publisher’s butt.

About Karene Horst 10 Articles
As a fourth-grader, Karene Horst decided she wanted to be a writer when she grew up, and it's been downhill ever since. Her novel Moving Men is available via FlyingTreesPublishing.com