What do they hear? Dolphin squeaks? Is it like Charlie Brown’s teacher?

Before we get going, I wanted to send a shout to all of my sisters who emailed me, in the past 10 days, or so, and let you know that I have finally checked my email and I think that I have responded to everyone. Email is the first task that goes to the wayside, when I feel badly because there’s so much in there that deserves attention. I am sorry that my response took so long.

Onward, to today’s chat………

I am officially a (hetero) separatist. Seriously.

I want to know what males hear when I speak. This is becoming a serious bug up my fucking ass.

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I want to move into my shed. I have money set aside to make it a nice, livable structure. And I am seriously fucking annoyed at how the XY have fucking kept women and girls out of these particular skill sets, all because it’s fucking powerful knowledge.

If you want to know what positions are powerful, look around and see how many males are doing it. How many males are politicians, judges, attorneys, doctors, electricians? How many males are strippers, prostitutes, “camboys”?

Me. All the fucking time.

If you are unfamiliar with how mobile homes are structured, they sit off of the ground, at least a few feet. In the floors, there are support beams that run across the width to support the (usually) cheap floorboards, that are covered with vinyl tile.

My bathroom floor is mostly gone. The support beams are visible. Since I couldn’t find a fucking male to work on my shed, I have made it a priority to obtain a board that is cut like this……….

That will cover the floor and keep a lot of cold air from getting in this winter, since I am stuck here because males are stupid. I do not want it bolted down. I do not want to fix the bathroom floor because I don’t want to fucking live here any fucking more. I just need a stopgap to make me a baseline of comfortable until I can move into the shed.

Now, I am asking you. Am I speaking English? Is this really complicated? Am I communicating clearly?

Do you all understand what I am saying?

I have run through so many fucking males about this. Apparently, I don’t know what I want. Or I don’t know what I am talking about. Or what I want isn’t possible. Or what I want isn’t a good idea.

When the male came and laid down the gravel for my shed, he had some people with him, 2 other males and a woman. When I paid him, he introduced me to all of them and I looked at the woman and said “it’s good to see these men have someone to keep them straight” or something along those lines. She immediately was all “oh. No, no, no, NO, I don’t know anything about anything, at all, I am just here helping, So and So, he really knows what he is doing, I am just helping.” (These are the general statements, I can’t remember specifics, it’s been a while, but you get the idea).

But her general tone had a sort of panic, underneath, I could clearly hear it. I recognized it because I have had that tone present in my own voice, years ago, when I was married to my first husband, who chose to enact violence randomly and unpredictably, as a mechanism to terrorize me. I have also heard that tone in other women, too many times to count. I don’t know if she is being subjected to male terrorism, she didn’t say, but if I had to guess, well………

Everyone here knows what my guess would be.

I know all of you know exactly what I am talking about.

I remember thinking that I need to be careful about what I say to other women in front of males, because of the male inclination to punish women for what ANY woman says or does that hurts his manfeelings. I genuinely worried about her, for a bit, and I hope that she is doing ok.

So this contractor ghosted me, after putting me off 3 times. He was coming but something always came up, and on the 3rd time, I stopped contacting him. He named me a price for the gravel, and I didn’t haggle, I just paid it. Even though it was several feet too fucking short. Beforehand, I asked him if a check would be ok or would he prefer cash? He said a check would be fine. He did the work, I told him it looked good and thanked him before writing him a check, that he cashed the next day without incident.

Can you guess where this is going?

I ran into a mutual acquaintance a while back, and she mentioned this particular contractor. I had already forgotten about him, to be honest, but she told me that he ghosted me because I am a SEXIST. My immediate reaction was to rewind in my mind to see where I had been treating a woman/women unfairly. Because males can’t be victims of sexism, lol.

We live in reality, though, while so many males…………. don’t.

He told people that I told a “sexist joke”. I had to think on it, for a minute, because I didn’t interact with him, at all, for the most part, the gravel only took a few hours, my dogs and I stayed in the house, out of the way, until the job was completed and I paid. Apparently, what I said to the woman about supervising males, or whatever it was, was a male idea of a sexist joke.

So he punished me. Instead of being an adult and telling me that he wouldn’t be available to do the rest of the work, or maybe telling me the truth, that I offended him, or making up any excuse for why he wouldn’t be finishing my work, he purposely strung me along, so I wouldn’t look for anyone else to do the work, in a manipulative, pathetic, and sad little floppy male effort to put me in my place. And I have to wonder if he warned other males, other contractors, because I am still having trouble getting another contractor, even a terrible one.

So also. Word has gotten out that I am a sexist misandrist.

I am pretty proud of that, I am considering getting myself a trophy declaring myself MISANDRIST O’ THE YEAR.

And I thought about all of the jobs that I have had, where I put up with sexual harassment, groping, sexual comments about me and other women, the “jokes” that males always make, not always in our presence, but sometimes, they go out of their way to make a misogynist, sexist, woman hating joke right in front of our face, and if you don’t laugh along, then males (and their handmaids) will ask you what your problem is? Don’t you get humor? Because those jokes are always funny. And women who refuse to laugh along are just humorless bitches.

Why are dogs better than women? Lock your wife and your dog in your car trunk for a few hours. When you let them out, which one is happy to see you? The dog will be happy to see you. Ergo, dogs are better than women.

My father’s favorite joke.

I once told my father, after having to suffer through this fucking joke about putting women and pets in a trunk for the millionth time because that’s supposed to be so fucking FUNNY, I responded that I would like to tell him a joke about women locking a male in a trunk, but women just don’t do those horrible things, and if we actually did do things like that to males, we wouldn’t joke about it, partially because males everywhere would crycry in mantrumy indignation at being the butt of a bad joke. Also, women don’t put pets in the trunk, either, and we certainly wouldn’t put a dog into a vehicle trunk with a male due to male proclivity to rape animals, if for no other reason. Additionally, I said that I was surprised that he found animal abuse to be funny, to which he became indignant and righteous and offended that I would ever accuse him of such a horrible thing. He wanted to know where I got such an outrageous accusation! How could I accuse him of joking about animal abuse.

I am like, “Harold. You don’t think it’s abuse to lock a dog in a trunk? That’s why you like that joke and find it so funny, (interrupting Harold) that I have heard it from you at least hundreds of times, if not thousands. You like it because your dog and your wife love you, but the dog will (interrupting Harold) docilely, obediently, submissively take your abuse without complaining or crying. Women don’t always submit to male abuse without complaint, not as often as dogs do. (Harold keeps trying to interrupt me, I just talk louder and keep on) That’s the humor that you love so much in that joke, it’s abusing women and animals who love you and made the mistake of trusting you. Isn’t that right.”

And then he informed me that I was humorless, while insisting that I had somehow offended him.

That’s part of male entitlement. Males feel entitled to make us laugh along to jokes about male terrorism directed at women and girls. And males are entitled to punish us, if we refuse, if we don’t receive the joke the way that a dog receives abuse when the male that locked him in the car trunk eventually lets him out, with joy and celebration of the hero who has set us free! With no mention or thought of the male being the one who put us there, in the first place.

And you know, he still told me that joke, all of the fucking time.

But of course, my sexist joke must be punished by some random dumbass XY who gave up a pretty large amount of money just to punish me for a silly statement. But really, I am glad of it, because I am picky about who I give money to, and I would rather live in my shoddy mobile home for the rest of my life than give that cocksucker another dime. I hope he starves.

I found another male, who owns a handyman type business, and of all of the ones that I called, he could get to me the soonest, which was November 8th, at the time. That was almost 2 weeks, I was willing to wait, and he asked me to send him pictures of the shed. So I texted the pictures, he asked me what I wanted done. I knew that he did everything, all of it, because I had asked him, so I told him that I needed electric, water, eventually a bathroom and kitchen, but my priority is steps to get up to the front porch.

He replied that steps shouldn’t be my priority, and my shed isn’t big enough to have a bathroom. I replied that steps will be done first, that I needed steps for stability, and he replied that I could “just use some concrete blocks for a while”. I let that go, for a minute, and I said that I have plenty of room for a bathroom, and then he asked me for the measurements AGAIN, and I told him, AGAIN, to which he told me that maybe I had room for a bathroom, that he would have a look at it and let me know.

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I fucking will have steps. And I will have them FIRST.

Cleotis has hip problems. Acey has back, leg, and hip problems. I have 4 steps up to my current front door, I have had to carry acey and Jackie too many times to count, and cleotis needs help getting her butt lifted, especially when it rains.

My dogs are not able to use concrete blocks as fucking steps, not to mention it’s so easy for a clumsy ass male to fall, even with a clear, level path. I am stating here what I refuse to say to these arrogant ass males, because I am not explaining things to them. I don’t owe them a fucking explanation, they don’t fucking own me.

I know they don’t do this to other males. I know that they just say “yes, I will do that” or “no, I am not interested/can’t do that” when other males are paying them. Why do they want to force themselves onto us as a fucking daddy?

I mentioned in a recent post about the male that I met outside the hair salon that gave me the creeps at first sight. Another thing that made him unbearable is his inability to listen. I told him at the beginning of the conversation that the shed is sitting on a gravel pad, and it’s sitting on bricks, for now, a few inches over the gravel. He asked me SIX TIMES if the shed is sitting on concrete. He kept saying “is it sitting on concrete? Because that’s going to be expensive, I will have to break up the concrete under the shed to run power to it”. When he said the same thing a seventh time, I just told him “yeah, nevermind”.

What was he hearing? Women don’t have any issue conversing with me or understanding what I am saying. I know having a dick makes males stupid and boring, but does it also make them deaf?

So my friend at the salon knows a male that has done some work for her, she says he isn’t creepy, that he isn’t a thief and that he is dependable and does good work. He has a nickname, similar to Tiny, because he is short.

I talked with him, yesterday, over text. He said that he wants to look at the shed, and I asked him if he could meet me at 11 a.m. Friday morning at the salon where my friend works. This way, I don’t have some random strange male on my property, I can meet him, first. He agreed to meet me there.

I sent him the picture above, with the dimensions of the board that I need to temporarily cover my bathroom floor, and I told him that I need a piece of wood cut to those dimensions, and if he could bring me this specific board on Friday, that I will pay him for it when he gives it to me. He asked if plywood would be ok, and I said that whatever wood he could access would do, that it’s just a temporary cover for my bathroom floor, to keep the cold air out this winter, until I can get moved into the shed, and I shared this so that he would have a point of reference.

I also wanted to see if he could do what I asked without trying to be a fucking daddy, as well as to see if he would overcharge me.

This morning, my friend from the salon called me, and she is really excited. Sometime after talking with me, yesterday, Tiny the contractor called her because he thinks that between the 2 of them, they can decide what work I need.

They decided that my bathroom in the mobile home comes first. And that Tiny was not going to bother with the board I asked for, but instead, he was going to come into my house, look at my bathroom, and find out what he needs to fix it.

I wonder if he is going to do all that without pay? Because my money goes to the shed first. I won’t know if I have money to fix the mobile home until I get the shed finished.

My friend was seriously confused, she couldn’t figure out where my irritation was coming from. Swear to fucking god, she said “Tiny is so concerned about you, he wants to help you, he wants to make sure that you don’t freeze this winter.”

First, this random male is not “concerned” about me. That’s just fucking ridiculous. Secondly, I don’t want or need his “help”. I want to be warm this winter, that’s why I bought a fucking SHED, so that I could move out of my shoddy mobile home and into a NEW PLACE, with a new bathroom and with plenty of heat and insulated walls to hold the heat in, if I can ever find a male to do the job that I need and can pay for.

I don’t know what is going to happen. But I told my friend that if Tiny shows up on Friday without the board, and tells me that he wants to do work that I didn’t mention, don’t want and don’t need, I will continue looking for that unicorn contractor who will do what I am hiring out to do. She said that if I didn’t hire tiny, that her second ex husband is a contractor, that she would put him in touch with me.

Why do males have to make everything so fucking hard. I am considering making a Twitter in my real name, mentioning my area, and putting a call out for female tradeswomen, to see if I can can hire a person with basic listening skills. I am tired of idiot dick draggers wasting my time.

Jayne