#All Lives Matter is Bullshit

By Austin B. Hahn

I find people funny who say, “All lives matter,” because they’re usually the same people who don’t do anything to help marginalized groups such as the disabled, the elderly, the exploited, the LGBT community, the poor, racial minorities, those who face pollution, or women. I’m sorry, but since when the fuck have you ever cared about all lives?

Don’t get me wrong. It would be one thing if you said, “All lives matter,” and you had a history of helping underprivileged people, but you don’t, so you should shut the fuck up.

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Abortion

By Austin B. Hahn

*Names have been changed to protect the identities of the sexual abuse victims.

When I was fifteen, a friend of mine told me that she was transferring schools because her biological and step father had molested her for two years. The experience had left her psychologically derailed. I was shocked and words could hardly leave my lips. She said she wasn’t ready to be in a mainstream environment and that the school she was going to would have smaller classroom sizes and personal tutors so she could receive more individualized attention. I held back my tears as I said goodbye. I could sense she had wanted someone to confide in but had almost no one. She was alone in her pain.

When I was sixteen, I had learned that another one of my good friends, Tina, was sexually abused. Her uncle forced her to give him fellatio, and she ended up having to go to court. I began to notice several changes in her personality: she started doing drugs, she didn’t laugh as much, and she just seemed … well, dead on the inside. We could no longer connect with each other, and, eventually, we stopped talking altogether. Several years went by before I saw her again.

One day, as I was riding the train, I heard a voice shouting that sounded familiar. I turn around to see who was laughing hysterically and swearing up a storm. I saw Tina. She was with a group of people, most of them looked like drug users, and she appeared to be high. I was too humiliated by her behavior to say anything to her. A year and a half later, I see her again on a transit bus. She looked healthier. We immediately recognized each other, and she sat next to me. We talked a little about where we were at in our lives. She told me she was in a better place and that it took her a while for her to get her life back together, but she was back on track in spite of everything that had happened to her. I was glad to know that she was living better days; she deserved to.

I have a reputation with my friends for being sexually promiscuous, but I like to take my time before meeting up with someone for sex. In the summer of 2014, one of my friends, Alicia, came to me with a concern she had about my safety. While she refrained from being judgmental, she just wanted to express that she cared for me and reminded me about the importance of being vigilant. I appreciated and understood her concern, but I felt something was off. When I asked if there was anything else that had prompted her to come to me, she told me about how she was almost raped. Years ago, she was at a party and met a guy who followed her into the bathroom. He left an “out of order” sign on the door and tried to have intercourse with her but couldn’t get an erection. The incident scarred her for life and, to this day, not a single other soul knows about what happened to her.

If any of my friends ended up pregnant because they were sexually abused, I would hope that they could have the option of having an abortion without having to explain themselves. Sexual abuse is humiliating, and none of my friends came forward right away after it happened to them. While I acknowledge others’ beliefs, I also cannot ignore my friends’ experiences. To any woman reading this: I ask you to defend the rights of your sisters that previous generations fought so hard for and to realize that sexual abuse could happen to you too like how it happened to my friends. Gentlemen: Think before you act. If your girlfriend or wife was raped, would you want her to be forced to have a baby against her will? Sexual abuse is real, and as long as we continue to stigmatize abortion and allow it to become criminalized, women will no longer be able to choose. No human being would want to be raped and then forced to have a child. This is not an issue of pro-choice versus pro-life; this is a matter of compassion.

In July of 2015, I received several letters from Planned Parenthood about the movement against women’s right to choose. Here are some facts according to Planned Parenthood:

  • Anti-abortion laws that have been enacted in the last 4 years have reduced access to birth control, cancer screenings, and testing and treatment for sexually transmitted infections.
  • The nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office (CBO) predicts 390,000 women who rely on government programs for their health care would lose access if they could not go to Planned Parenthood health centers.
  • Two anti-choice Senators – Kelly Ayotte (R-NH) and Cory Gardner (R-CO) – introduced a bill to supposedly promote over-the-counter access to birth control. In actuality, such legislation would make women pay twice for their birth control – once through their health insurance and then again out of pocket.
  • Fourteen states have passed laws banning abortion after 20 weeks – nearly all of them without adequate exceptions for rape or incest or to fully protect a woman’s health.

These are just a few statistics in addition to the 47 anti-abortion laws that were passed in 2015 (Carpenter). The fight continues. How will you act in 2016?

If you care to fight for the rights of women, you can do so silently in the privacy of your own home by donating to Planned Parenthood at: https://secure.ppaction.org/site/Donation2?df_id=12913&12913.donation=form1

Source

Carpenter, Zoë. “Nearly 400 Anti-Abortion Bills Were Introduced Across the Country This Year.” The Nation. The Nation, 11 Dec. 2015. Web. 31 Dec. 2015.

July 18th, 2015

By Austin B. Hahn

Dear Journal:

Fuck the gym! I decided to skip it and have sweets for dinner. Marie Antoinette once said, “Let them eat cake,” so I did. Besides, why am I staying in shape . . . so I can get good dick? Ha! I’m afraid that’s about as scarce as a good politician in this country. I’m so fuckin’ tired of looking good and some tired-ass-old bozo messages me on Grindr. Sometimes I don’t understand men. They want a hot piece of ass, but some of them don’t even have a good dick, so they try to compensate for it by driving a big truck.

The ones who really piss me off are the hypocrites. They’re the ones who want someone good-looking, but they themselves look like shit. When some guys message me, I just want to reply, “Have you ever thought about asking yourself this: would you fuck you? If the answer is no, then please do not send me a message, or come back to me after you’ve been consistently going to the gym three to four times a week for about a month and a half.”

This one goes to any woman who is reading this right now: raise your sexpectations! Do not let Tubby McTubbertin be your bare minimum standard of what a man should look like to you. Men are not supposed to have phantom babies. Ladies, you shave your legs, wear makeup, wax your pussies, and you don’t complain. The least he can do is go to the fuckin’ gym, and if he has money, then he can afford to fix himself up.

Anyway, I’m not done complaining.

I was recently at a wedding, which was awful to say the least. No one there was polite enough to ask, “Hey, Austin, so tell me your story about how you fingered someone in a taxi cab?” so, while I was there, I never once said, “Gee, thank you for asking.” My conversations didn’t expand beyond the dull question, “How are you?” which I can’t stand, along with several other phrases:

“I’m (nationality). I have a hot temper.”

Why do some people use their ancestry or nationality as an excuse to justify their bitchy behavior? “Oh I’m Irish,” or, “I’m Italian,” or, “I’m Cuban, and when the Cuban gets angry . . .” Hey guess what? I’m a human being, and I don’t give a fuck.

“Bless you.”

How come some people can say to a complete stranger, “Bless you,” but they can’t stick up for someone they don’t know who’s being physically attacked? This colloquialism exposes how insincere the English language is. Bless me? For what? Because I sneezed? It doesn’t make sense. In Spanish they say, “salud,” which, directly translated, means “health.” That makes sense. You’re sneezing. Maybe you have a cold. Maybe you’re falling ill. Who knows? The point is it makes more sense. I’m amazed that people can tell me, “Bless you,” for doing something as frivolous as sneezing, but when I volunteer at a foodbank, I’ll be lucky if anyone even says, “Bye and thanks for your time.”

“Sorry.”

This word has probably been used more than condoms. “Sorry” has become a social norm to use in everyday conversation in U.S. American culture, but no one means it! “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Bitch, what are you sorry for? There’s even a game called “Sorry!” It’s ridiculous. People in the United States apologize for slamming the door, interrupting someone during a phone conversation, farting in public, belching at the dinner table, and the list goes on. The proper response, in these contexts, would be, “Excuse me.” On the contrary, if they were to get into a dispute with someone, the majority of them would be reluctant to apologize and say, “I was wrong,” because their egos are more important to them. This commonly, overused word also shows how superficial the English language is.

“Live every day as if it were your last.”

I cannot begin to recall how many divorced bitches I have seen who have an expression, such as this one, hanging up on a wall somewhere in their home. I can find the same quote on multiple Facebook and Instagram pages, “Live, Laugh, Love”, for instance, which I find funny because it’s usually posted by people who don’t do any of those things in actual life. What’s more, if everyone were to live each day as if it were their last, the world would be crazy. Would you want to see me twerking my fat ass on top of a table at McDonald’s or getting fucked by a sexy mailman in public? Don’t you tell me you would! Unless you’re a voyeuristic whore, you wouldn’t like to see what I do on casual Friday.

“Have a good one.”

What am I supposed to have that’s good??? A blowjob? A drink? A vacation? Be more specific. If you want to wish me a good day, a nice weekend, or a wonderful vacation, then say so.

“I’m good.”

When I ask someone, “How are you?” I want to know how that person is feeling. Being vague by saying, “I’m good,” tells me absolutely nothing. What is “good” to you? For some, “good” means they’re feeling happy while for others it means they’re as high as the Eiffel Tower. I understand there are certain social situations that require discretion, but if I’m asking how you’re doing, it’s because you’re a friend or a family member, and I care. I don’t ask people I don’t know how they’re feeling, which brings me to my final thoughts . . .

I’m not a car salesman or a pretentious asshole . . . well, at least I try not to be. Since I’m not getting paid to kiss anyone’s ass, I’m not going to pretend to be interested in somebody for the sake of small talk. I’m a passionate person, and I don’t appreciate false statements of well-being. With the exception of detached professionalism and avoiding disclosure in the business world, don’t come to me with your bullshit asking, “How are you?” when you don’t care. It’s annoying, and people rarely like to feel as if they’re talking to a robot. Connect with people by asking something genuine instead, and open yourself up.

We only scratch the surface in artificial conversations. When we share ourselves and we’re receptive to others through listening using non-judgmental body language, we create opportunities to form relationships with people we might’ve been looking for our whole lives. You could be talking with the love of your life, your best friend, your business partner who helps launch your career, or you might learn something from someone you wished you would’ve learned years ago. Take risks in communication. Approach someone with more depth than just, “Hi. How are you?” and you will discover how the power of your everyday communication affects your life.

How to Get Over a Bad Ex-Boyfriend (For Girls and Gays)

By Austin B. Hahn

Honeyyy, are you finding yourself all alone again for the holidays, (like last year?) Well, truth be told: I wouldn’t know what that’s like. HOWEVER, what I can do is offer you my advice, but listen up bitches: this isn’t just another “How to Guide” written by some self-proclaimed dating expert or psychologist, (who the fuck do I look like, Dr. Phil???) This is some plain good ol’, straight up, skip the bullshit advice. If you’re looking for sympathy, you’re better off making an appearance on the Oprah Winfrey Network. I have to warn you: if anyone has already been, is, or is going to be offended, then I suggest that you FUCK OFF. Thank you!

For some people, getting over a boyfriend can be just as hard as getting under one. Fortunately, for hos like me, that’s not difficult. Clingy Claires, Needy Nancys, and Two-Ton Tommys, if you’re missing your ex, here are some steps that you can take to improve your aim:

1) Eat your feelings.

That’s right! Go to the kitchen and find whatever you like that you can get your hands on. No one has ever complained after eating their favorite treat. Bitches from Jenny Craig might say they feel guilty afterwards, but I beg to differ. Just look at Kirstie Alley; when was the last time you ever heard her say “no” to a box of chocolate donuts? You want something to distract you from thinking about your horrible break up??? Then go eat something deep fried, smothered in chocolate, and sprinkled with powdered sugar. I’m sure it tastes better than your ex-boyfriend.

2) Don’t go to bed angry; STAY UP AND PLOT YOUR REVENGE!!!

If there’s any solution to a bad break up with a guy that cheated on you and screwed your best friend, then this is it. First of all, don’t go to your mom’s house, and then write that asshole some piece of shit e-mail about what you “learned” in the relationship. Because boo boo, let’s be honest: the only thing you probably learned was that his mother should’ve swallowed the load when she had the chance. Writing a five-page e-mail is basically giving him a long ass letter of recommendation that he can use as a reference for future dates, and you don’t want that. Instead, try something unorthodox such as: taking one of your friends out at two in the morning and fucking up his car. Jackass players will cross you off their list of potential dates, and the message will become clear to your ex: you shouldn’t have fucked with me!

3) (Ladies) Tell your girlfriends he’s gay.

As unconventional as this step might seem, believe it or not ladies, it actually works. It’s humiliating when someone cheats on you, and you don’t want to have to go through the heartbreak all over again as you explain to your girlfriends what happened. What’s more, chances are that if he cheated on you, he’s likely going to try to bang your best friend. To prevent him from moving on to his next victim, you HAVE to make him undateable. Telling everyone he’s a sore loser, and he’ll never find someone as good as you isn’t conducive to successfully making him undateable. You have to be creative. Say that you caught him in bed with another man, and after discovering his attraction to men, you realized why you two were having “relationship problems.” DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT be bitter when stating this. It’ll become obvious that this is a total bullshit lie, and no one will believe you; however, if you speak calmly and maintain your composure, then your friends will be more likely to believe you. Remember: you’re saving your friends from making the mistake of dating this asshole, so in essence, you’re doing them a favor. After your girlfriends express their sympathy, (i.e. “Oh honey I am sorry to hear that. How awful …” etc.), tell them that everything is okay, and there’s no resentment between you two, even though there might be, and that it was probably just as hard for him to deal with his sexuality. Make it a point to your girlfriends that you’re one of the few people who know, and you don’t want them to say anything to him. This will surely make him undateable. He’ll be as unwanted as Tommy Lee’s STDs.

4) Go out and bang someone else!

There. I flat out said it. Be a ho! Get a little 50 shades. It’s time to get rid of those cob webs between your legs. (Gays . . . for some of you this might mean reinstalling Grindr on your iPhone.) No one ever told you, “I regret that orgasm.” There are plenty of people in the world, and you’ll never be as young as you are now, so don’t wait to have fun until you’re in a stale – I mean stable – relationship with someone at sixty years old when everything begins to hang like a slinky.

5) Once you’ve done all of the aforementioned things . . . go on a date.

Forget about being a monument to your ex-boyfriend. Let that disgusting old guy with lots of money take you out on a date. You have probably already been with a good-looking, young, broke guy while watching a Netflix movie on his laptop in his apartment, so try something different. Besides, I’m sure an older man will be more attentive to you, (considering the likelihood that he hasn’t been on a date in over thirty years.) Since you’re getting back into the dating scene, here are some helpful tips:

  1. Don’t forget to talk in a whispery, sultry voice. Men like that shit. You could say, “I have to go take a dump . . . I’ll be right back,” and, as long as you’re talking in that sexy voice, he would go nuts over you!
  2. (Ladies) Keep the boobies out. A man doesn’t want to see your “good” credit score, bachelor’s degree, or hear about the book club that you belong to. Half of what you say will go over his head, and then during the other half, while he’s listening to you, he’ll be thinking, “God damn her breasts look great!”

III. (Gays) Wear tight clothing that shows off that ripped chest and firm ass. Leave something for the imagination, without showing off too much, and keep him wondering what his money can get him.

Take these tips, and you’ll earn a second date. Think like Anna Nicole Smith, who married billionaire J. Howard Marshall II when he was eighty-nine years old: the more you entice him, the closer you’ll get to his bank account.

6) Acknowledge that you have been hurt and move on.

As the cliché goes: men are pigs. Fuck them (and not in the good way!)

You might have had a relationship with a boy who was shittier than the Parisian sewers so that you could appreciate, when the time comes, what a good man feels like. When you go through an experience, understanding why it’s happening can be difficult as you’re living it in the present moment. Recognizing its purpose is easier when you look back on it.

Some people come into your life as transient spiritual workers, then leave a tiny footprint on your heart as they walk on by, and you’re never the same. Others are like a thorn in your ass that you got from running into a rose bush. Either way everyone is a teacher.

On a final note, you have to let go of the fear of being hurt again so that you can start living the better life that you envisioned for yourself yesterday. If you don’t, then you’ll never get to the final chapters of your love story. Besides, you never know where you’ll meet a man who synchronizes with the rhythm of your soul, so keep an open heart. Who knows . . . he might just be on that subway you’re getting on tomorrow morning.