As long as we’re all airing our half-baked theories about why rape happens, Kathryn Holmquist has got an idea: Rape happens because girls think they can say “no” whenever they want. According to Holmquist, the date rape problem begins with girls who want to get physical—girls who deliberately drink, flirt, and engage in “deep kissing” in the club—and then don’t want to have sex. She writes:
Read More “Writer to Rape Victims: Sometimes, It’s “Too Late to Say No”” »

Last week, I wrote about some disturbing Internet comments posted in the wake of the Richmond gang rape that blamed the victim for drinking alcohol. The post inspired some really positive responses . . . and more disturbing Internet comments.

Alex makes the case for victim-blaming—at least girls will now know “the possible consequences of decisions.” Decide to have a beer, maybe you’ll get gang-raped: A valuable lesson for young girls:

Read More “Sexist Comments of the Week: Do Drunk Girls Deserve to Get Raped?” »

Don’t believe me when I say that people actually think drunk girls deserve to get raped? Let’s take the case of the 15-year-old California girl who was brutally gang-raped at her homecoming dance for hours in front of dozens of onlookers. Apparently, the victim had been drinking. For some people, that turns her horrific rape into a valuable morality tale that will put the fear into our nation’s drunk girls. Helpful Comments points us to some not-atypical online reactions to the story:

Read More “Drunk Girls Deserve to Get Raped” »

Earlier this week, we looked at the popular fear of date rape drugs, and how that fear helps distract us from acquaintance rapes that involve willingly ingested substances, like beer. Beer, you say? In this edition of Sexist Beatdown, Sady Doyle of Tiger Beatdown and I talk booze—the most common date-rape drug, the cause of a shit ton of other problems, and a pretty fun thing to drink, in moderation. After the jump: we bemoan the double standard of passing out, yearn for a consentalizer test, and check in on how our femininity is holding up—it’s tipsy, thanks for asking!

Read More “Sexist Beatdown: Date Rape Drugs And A Couple of Beers” »

This week, a study in the British Journal of Criminology announced that “date rape drugs” are “largely an urban myth,” as “there is a stark contrast between heightened perceptions of risk associated with drug-facilitated sexual assault and a lack of evidence that this is a wide-spread threat.” Several sites for women met the news with skepticism. Feministing suggested that the study may have engaged in victim-blaming. The Frisky warned that the study “needs to be viewed with caution. I don’t think we want women to start leaving their drinks unattended, just because the chances of getting roofied are slimmer than they may have thought.” TresSugar hailed the report as “depressing.”

I, for one, am celebrating. First: the research suggests that women aren’t regularly being drugged on their night out—wonderful news! But it also means that we may finally retire all the media scare-tactics, the girls-night-out drink protection strategies, and mercifully, every single absurd product that has arisen out of society’s inflated concern of drink spiking—and has dangerously distracted the rape conversation from addressing the real experiences of victims.

Read More “The Date Rape Drug Is An Urban Myth. Let’s Put It to Rest.” »

Every day until Halloween, I’m offering up the worst “sexy” Halloween costumes on shelves this October. Up next, per reader request: an elaborate sexual assault joke!

THE “SEXY BREATHALIZER” COSTUME:

Read More “The Worst Sexy Halloween Costumes: Sexy “Limp Brethalizer” Edition” »

CNN’s Stephanie Chen discovered adult kickball today. But somebody didn’t stick around for the post-game.

In her report, Chen argues that grown kickball enthusiasts hit the field in an attempt to reclaim their lost youth. Kickballers, Chen writes, hope to relive the experience of “fifth-graders during PE class in Sparks, Nevada.” As any veteran of adult kickball can tell you (don’t judge me: I went to like two games!), the bygone era kickballers are attempting to reclaim is college, and the real sports begins after the field is empty.

Read More “Adult Kickball More About Fucking Than Kicking” »

The woman, who arrived at the bar alone, is “fascinated by human sexuality,” she tells me. Sure, she’s got theories. “Some of my ideas are pretty radical,” she insists, before flagging the bartender for another Pink Slip.

Two sex tips from a drunk person, after the jump.

Read More “Sex Tips From Drunk People” »

Today is the Washington City Paper’s first ever Food Day, meaning that all the paper’s columnists have been sent out into the wild to report on what our people are consuming. Though food and sex are inextricably linked “in the limbic system of the brain” and in “pop culture,” I’m eschewing edibles today. I’ve been tasked with reporting on a less sexy, but more noble, enterprise: daytime boozin’.

You can read my posts over at CP’s Young and Hungry blog once I get my ass to a bar. In the meantime, let’s get started by reading up on Earl, D.C.’s greatest Erotic Photo Hunter, who manages to get some daytime drinking in between pokes of the Megatouch console.

Caught in the headlights: Earl is master of the Hunt.

Show Earl a photo of a topless woman, and he’ll respond like most heterosexual men—sure, he’ll take a look at the boobs. Show Earl two photos of a topless woman, and he’ll ditch the boobs—that’s an amateur move—and look for the color of her thong, the pattern of her rug, or how many eyes her dog has.

Earl is a connoisseur of Erotic Photo Hunt, an electronic bar game that puts a bawdy twist on the “spot the difference” puzzles that fill out kids magazines or the comics page. The rules of Erotic Photo Hunt are simple. Drop in a quarter. Choose “Babes” or “Hunks.” Inspect two photos of the same soft-core pinup, identical except for five Photoshopped differences. Touch all the variations before time runs out, and you advance to the next round. Each round is faster than the last. Never go straight for the boobs—differences are most likely to reveal themselves in the less titillating areas of the screen, like foliage, motorcycles, or pets.

“It’s like playing the one-eyed monster,” says Earl, a semi-retired mechanic who prefers to go by his first name. “You just put your money in, and it just takes it and stares back at you—challenging you.”

Read More “Breast Practices: Insider Tips from D.C.’s Greatest Erotic Photo Hunter” »