Welcome back to Sexist Beatdown, the erotic weekly chat wherein Sady of Tiger Beatdown and I discuss our innermost desire to be raped, forcibly married, and impregnated by a handsome and affable doctor of our parent’s choosing.

Shit, no, no—that’s the subject of our $39.99 Pay-Per-View edition of Sexist Beatdown (check local listings). This Sexist Beatdown is actually about how a handsome and affable doctor who rapes, forcibly marries, and impregnates a young woman is a totally awful and fucked up hero to write into your romance novel!

Or is he?

Are rape fantasies—and the Romance Novelists who love them—any more disturbing than all the other strange sexual fantasies being parsed out there in pages upon pages of awkward prose? Before you answer that: You should know that some of these strange sexual fantasies involve sexy role-playing as “Friends” character Chandler Bing.

Read More “Sexist Beatdown: Rape Fantasy Edition” »

Quick Quiz! Sex. What is it, exactly?

A. One step past whatever you were just caught doing with that woman who is not your wife.

B. Anything that two people do together in private when they love each other very much, not including whatever those queers are doing.

C. Whenever the one with a penis has an orgasm.

D. Given the obvious power disparity between men and women in the patriarchy, an implicitly non-consensual act—unless two girls are doing it, but only if two girls are doing it exclusively for their own pleasure and not to satisfy the male interest in two girls doing it.

E. Dancing.

Today, Sady of Tiger Beatdown and I will get to the bottom of this mysterious phenomenon, and figure out why the definition of “sex” is not actually any particular combination of penises, vaginas, anuses, and mouths, but rather a tool for cheaters to pretend they’re not cheating and homophobes to pretend they’re different from gays. Good morning, by the way!

Read More “Sexist Beatdown: Let’s Talk About Sex, Whatever That Is” »

Pre-post-post-feminism was marked by elaborate personality-based costumes

Sady of Tiger Beatdown and I were totally prepared to have a Very Serious Discussion Concerning Our Feelings on the Defense Of Marriage Act and Why Obama Was Or Was Not A Dick About It (VSDCOFOTDOMAAWOWOWNADAI) today.

But then we read this awesome piece by Steve Haruch, dude in Texas, about why post-post-feminism in pop music is just pre-feminism in disguise, and we thought, “fuck it, let’s talk about Beyonce in a cop outfit.”

Read More “Sexist Beatdown: How Beyonce In A Cop Outfit = Feminism Now Edition” »

I have a confession to make: I love Dude Comedies. Any film where Two to Five Douchey Guys Shirk Their Societal Obligations to Embark on a Night They’ll Never Forget can probably coax ten bucks out of me. I’ll even watch the Dude Comedies where all female characters are relegated to the Fun-Hating-Wife or Slutty-Sex-Object category, as long as it allows for maximum high jinks. Superbad: Loved it! Old School: Great! 40 Year Old Virgin: Totally convinced me to overlook the whole chastity message! Talladega Nights: Watched it!

I understand these movies are literred with sexism and homophobia and penises; I am simply immune to it. My condition has become so severe that this is looking pretty good to me, honestly.

But no Dude Comedy can draw me in as douchily as the Judd Apatow Dude Comedy. I am powerless to it. I have a theory: Paul Rudd is often one of the dudes. But even a Clueless pedigree can’t justify my apparent obsession with man-children, marijuana-fueled Lord of the Rings fantasies, and underlying date-rape themes.

Help me.

In this week’s Sexist Beatdown, Sady of Tiger Beatdown tries. We laughed, we cried, we had a shmashmortion.

Read More “Sexist Beatdown: Ladies Love Dude Comedies Edition” »

Welcome back to “Sexist Beatdown,” a weekly online “chat” between myself and Sady of Tiger Beatdown. “Sexist Beatdown,” incidentally, could also define every relationship famously depressed person Elizabeth Wurtzel (pictured) has ever had (just wait ’til you meet GREGG, guys!).

In Wurtzel’s latest essay, “Failure to Launch: When Beauty Fades” (published in this month’s Elle), Elizabeth Wurtzel is depressed again. This time, because she is “old” (41)—and also, maybe, secretly, because she’s spent the greater part of those years getting shit thrown at her face by epic douchebags. While aging has brought Wurtzel fame, book deals, and a J.D. from Columbia, it has also stolen the precious glint of youth from her eyes, and left her pining for her Original Epic Douche—the beautiful peppermint-flavored-foot-massaging, bottle-chucking graduate student douchebag GREGG. The essay is, in typical Wurtzel fashion, funny, sad, honest, and problematic.

Read More “Sexist Beatdown: A Peppermint Foot Massage Does A Douchebag Make” »

Feminism: Oooooooooover it.

In this edition of Sexist Beatdown, Sady of Tiger Beatdown and myself of the Sexist talk of DoubleX, Slate’s new online magazine for women—it’s just like us, except we’re the problem! Also, people who don’t report their own rapes. It is mostly them (and not, saaaay, rapists) who are the problem.

Oh, problems. They create so many pageviews, which, in turn, solve our main problem ($$$). I think it’s about time for Sady and I to CASH IN: What’s the problem with DoubleX, anyway?

SADY: hello! are you ready to speak? or are you too busy KILLING FEMINISM?

AMANDA: i actually just thew up a blog post, which, as you shall see, is what i actually think is “killing” “feminism.” let me start with the Bust quote on DoubleX’s dead feminism obsession, though: “We don’t know about you, but we’re disappointed. (And we also need to figure out the best way to fight off this new undead feminism before it eats our brains.)”

Read More “Sexist Beatdown: DoubleX Is Killing Feminist Blogs Which Are Killing Feminism Edition” »

For this edition of “Sexist Beatdown,” Sady (of Tiger Beatdown) and myself (of the Sexist) would like to extend a warm invitation to all men, children, good mothers, and bad mothers (abortionists will be tolerated, but the childless will be ignored).

This week, up for discussion is Ayelet Waldman: wife to Michael Chabon, mother to four, author of “Bad Mother,” in that order! Waldman made women hate her in 2005 after announcing, in the New York Times, that she values her husband over her children. We don’t really give a shit about that. What we want to know is: Does Waldman value husbands over children over good mothers over bad mothers over abortionists over the childless?

Let’s sort of find out!

SADY: hello! are you ready to talk about how some lady HATES and/or does not maniacally worship her children?

AMANDA: I can barely begin to think about it because i HATE this woman so much!
Read More “Sexist Beatdown: Bad Mother > Abortionist > Childless Edition” »

Men Men Men Men MANLY Men Men Men

Okay, before anything else: Please read this. I’m not sure what it is—more on that later—but it appears to be a column for the Globe and Mail penned by Lynn Crosbie about the true definition of “Samoan,” the reason why “Two & A Half Men” is “excellent,” and whether women in popular culture have been effectively replaced by mere “warmins.” Anyway, it’s a must read, but mostly because I could never possibly fucking explain it to you.

Ahem. Welcome to Sexist Beatdown, hosted by Sady from Tiger Beatdown and myself of the Sexist. Every week we do this little experiment where we drink a couple glasses of wine, sip a bit too plentifully from the NyQuil, and leave long, rambling voice messages on each others’ telephones that we then transcribe and place on the Internet for public consumption. Oh wait, that’s not us, that’s the way we imagine Lynn Crosbie’s latest column came into existence. My bad.

Although: Sady. Darling. WE SHOULD TOTALLY DO THAT ONE WEEK.

But for now:

Read More “Sexist Beatdown: Samoans, Indoor Plumbing, And The Secret of True Womanhood” »

Welcome back to Sexist Beatdown, a weekly ladyblog collaboration between myself and Sady of Tiger Beatdown: When our powers combine, etc.

Up for discussion this morning: Caitlin Flanagan’s most recent book review, “The Passion of Alec Baldwin,” an epic indulgence of armchair celebrity psychoanalysis in which Flanagan argues that:

(a) Alec Baldwin is a babe

(b) Ireland Baldwin totally has the hots for her babe dad, who has the hots for her, too

(c) Kim Basinger is a bitch

(d) choosing to spend your modest professor’s salary on expensive foreign perfumes to satisfy your wife’s whims instead of paying to fix the broken heater in your home will ensure that your daughter, Caitlin Flanagan, is raised with a purer vision of romance

(e) who the fuck knows for what this woman is truly arguing??

Begin.

SADY: hello! who wants to discuss DEEP PSYCHOSEXUAL TRAUMA? Specifically, the psychosexual trauma inflicted on me by Caitlin Flanagan and her latest piece.

AMANDA: sure dude

Read More “Sexist Beatdown: It’s OK to Want to Do Your Dad As Long As Your Dad Is Alec Baldwin Edition” »