who needs a rant


I'm giving out free FUCK YOUs to basically the entire world except skeptical owls, those kids who sang that song to their choir teacher and some - repeat, some house cats. The ones with smashed-up bitchy faces. I like them.

WHEW my anxiety is off the charts today and I'm not even a transgender serviceperson or a Native being punished for having the gall to pray in front of white high schoolers. I blame the Blood Wolf Moon, which is what I would call the Trump White House if it showed the same brain-stem-level respect for the laws of nature as a bloody wolf, or the fucking brainless goddamn moon. But CLEARLY IT DOES NOT so we’ll just say something that is both accurate and a SOLID burn: GOSH, they’re handling this like the Trump White House, huh?

Let’s have a quick recap of the week so far, shall we? By the way it’s Tuesday.

First, obviously, we’ve got this fucking guy.

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But Katie, to WHICH fucking guy do you refer?

Good question! In this context, the guy referred to in “this fucking guy” is a compound noun encompassing every single fucking guy in the fuckhouse about which one might reasonably say, “And then you’ve got THIS FUCKING GUY.”

Fun fact, Donald Trump evidently needs to meet with a kid who smirked more than he needs to open up the fucking government so that his own fucking employees can afford their CHEMOTHERAPY TREATMENTS, which tells you everything you need to know about this fucking guy, except that if you still needed to be told everything you needed to know about this fucking guy you must be new to this blog and/or country and/or planet surface. WELCOME. IT’S NOT ALWAYS LIKE THIS, EXCEPT IT KIND OF IS. SORRY. GO BACK IF YOU CAN.

Funner fact! The TODAY show apparently needs Savannah Guthrie to nod warmly while the lovingly, luminously lit alabaster face of the kid who smirked reads his side of the story from cue cards written by his PR team, who probably also consulted on his cap-free “Mommy’s Good Boy” coif.

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Hey, fucking News Show, you could take cameras to the Omaha community and educate some fucking viewers about why that shit was fucked, and I mean all the way, up. You could schlep a crew to youth internment camps at the border and ask some goddamn questions about what the holy Jesus fuck is going on in there right now, and if nobody is talking YOU CAN FILM THE FUCKING FENCE AND TELL US NOBODY’S TALKING.

I don’t think I’m alone when I say I’d prefer information from Nathan Phillips and footage of a fence in Texas than Nicholas “Side Part Of Lies” Sandmann who literally has not a single goddamn word I want to hear.

Not even if he said “Cookies and Cream” would I want to hear A SINGLE GODDAMN WORD, NICK, BECAUSE EVEN YOUR ICE CREAM UPHOLDS WHITE SUPREMACY. #MoreCookies #LessCream (This, by the way, is the joke that people are going to be yelling about on Reddit - "She’s crazy! She thinks ice cream is racist!” Mark my words. Watch.)

So that’s gonna be a whole thing that purely annoys the shit out of me for the rest of the week. Because see, what’s gonna happen is, people are gonna look at Nicholas “Apple Dumplin” Sandmann and be like, “Awww. Wait, what were we mad about? I’d hire that kid to write my laws in 40 years!” and then all of our op-eds and social media channels are gonna be flooded with “Stop demonizing the children!” It won’t matter that nobody of note was doing that, actually, but the accusation will force us to stop having conversations about the complex systems that created the Nicholas Sandmanns of the world, and start explaining why specific examples enable important conversations about systemic injustice, but do not place the BLAME for the genesis of those systems on the people who make up the specific examples, and in 4 days we’re all gonna be so fucking sick of typing two n’s at the end of Sandmann that it’s gonna be like uuuuugh whatever, except NOT WHATEVER this is still BULLSHIT but woah what’s that, CNN has a breaking news bulletin…


SCOTUS did not just lift injunctions that had been preventing the transgender military ban. They did not. They did not. Nope, they didn’t. THEY DIDN’T. Nah nah nah nah nah because check this out, I got this, people:

Dear “The Secret,” I’ve been holding onto my third wish because no, okay, I didn’t read the book but I assume you operate under Genie Bylaws. Thank you for helping me find my other reindeer slipper and for making Costco carry flats of Annie’s Mac and Cheese because we go through that shit at an alarming rate.

For my third The Secret Wish, I would like for the universe to tell the Supreme Court to not uphold a ban on trans military service members.





I think we may have to prepare ourselves for the eventuality that The Secret is not coming.

I remember one time David “Fucking” Brooks wrote an op-ed about how Democrats were sacrificing too many legislative priorities because they refused to compromise on women’s reproductive freedom, and when I read that fucking op-ed I burst into tears. For that op-ed to exist, Brooks had to consider my humanity carefully, decide it was worthless, pick his favorite words to describe my worthless life, and email those words to an editor who swapped a period for a semicolon because it declared my life worthless more forcefully.

I was terrified and humiliated by that op-ed, a tidy package of words that quite simply mowed me down and laughed that I’d have the nerve to protest.

That’s this transgender military ban for our loved ones. It’s a neat little declaration of their lack of humanity, according to the people charged with defending the liberties of humans.

Please reach out to your trans friends and loved ones. Do it right now. Tell them you love them and that you’re with them. Ask how they’re doing. Listen. Send pie.

God DAMN it, this fucking administration can go eat the wrong side of a bowl of spaghetti and if you’re wondering what the fuck that means I’m trying to say I HOPE YOU EAT FORKS, YOU HATEFUL SHIT HEADS.

You know, I had to really try to stay focused on functioning at a minimum level today, because when I have that taste in my mouth (I call it panic spit), the pressure in my chest, the knots in my tummy, and tingles in my fingers and legs, all of that lets me know that I need to stop it with the coffee 2 cups ago, get the hell off of Twitter, and chill the fuck out because girl you are on the express train to an anxiety episode that will keep you awake all night long. You’ll think about your lower back pain and that radiantly gloriously beautiful yoga teacher who told you that a healthy spine means a long life. You’ll wonder if she’s still teaching at that spot in Ballard because you want to know how long you’ve got and also what her skin regimen is.



And I wasn’t even in the crosshairs of the bullshit I saw on Twitter and the bullshit from SCOTUS and the bullshit from the TODAY show and the bullshit out of the White House and I felt like the voice in my head was screaming SOMETHING’S COMING AND IT’S BAD and I was like what’s coming and it was like I DON’T KNOW BUT I’M OPENING UP THE ADRENALINE TANK JUST TO BE SAFE.

But now the day is almost over and I wrote this thing that solved none of the problems, not even the problem of the panic spit that remains in the back of my mouth even though I’ve drunk two mugs of tea tonight.

Sometimes you just have to sit down and notice all the things that were wrong and call them wrong out loud. It doesn’t solve the problems but at least it fucking accurately identifies them, which is something we need now more than ever. Tomorrow we can do more, take another step into the shitstorm, but tonight plant ourselves and say THIS. IS. STILL. FUCKED. BUT I AM NOT YET FUCKED WITH IT.

You still know what’s right and wrong. You’re learning more every day. Stay unfucked and get back in when you can. We need you out there.

Take care of yourselves and each other, loves. If you’re knotted up with anxiety like me right now, I wrote this post about living with anxiety and some of the things I do to take care of myself when I’m bugging out.

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