In consideration of the forthcoming cohabitation of parties “J” and “V,” to be effected on the 24th of May, 2022 (at which point parties “J” and “V,” whom together shall constitute the “Womyn” of the “Womyn’s Cottage,” shall have reached their 30th birthdays), and the mutual covenants and undertakings hereinafter set forth, the parties (J and V) agree as follows:
Karen W. first talked about her nonsense terrible experience of FMLA here.
Hi, everyone! It is I, the FMLA Lady*, here with some interesting updates to the state of working motherhood. When last I transmitted general thoughts in this regard to you via the Toast and electrons, things were pretty dire. My employer, [redacted], had screwed me out of a month and half of sick leave due to an FMLA
Picture this: a world in which you must declare your preferred gender pronoun, or PGP, in every single sentence you utter. If you are someone who cares about the notion of gender, this may sound rather wonderful. No one would ever get confused. You’d always know how to address your fellow persons, and they would know how to address you.
It's 2050 and feminism has finally won. Women make up more than 80% of serial killers and serial killer-related entertainment shows. Everyone agrees that Harper Lee wrote In Cold Blood under Truman Capote's name as a favor before beating Ernest Hemingway in Greco-Roman-style wrestling. Sex is just when two or more women take the mathematics portion of the SAT together and kick a businessman's teeth in. It's 2050 and Bob Dylan was never even born.
Marissa Maciel's previous work for The Toast can be found here. Exhausted parents lying on the floor, surrounded by government-provided boxes of diapers and wipes. Tired women with their feet elevated staring into space, while human resource managers do not have any reason to call them to talk about maternity leave issues or concerns. Tired men holding up two brands of diapers, debating between chlorine-free versus extra-absorbency, making that decision themselves, feeling confident about…
This is Nichole Perkins' first essay for The Toast. Her previous work for The Butter can be found here. My ringtone is the theme from the Lynda Carter-led Wonder Woman series. The journal I use for ideas and outlines features a comic version of the heroine looking prettily from the corners of her eyes. I have several sets of Wonder Woman underwear that I put on when I want good luck or good…
As excerpted from the work of Shulamith Firestone, and the staff writers of Cosmopolitan and Forbes.
Don’t buy her the sexual nature of Cleaver’s agonies. Don’t compliment her on her outfit. Women are the only ‘love’ objects in our society, so much so that women regard themselves as erotic. Screw the cheesy love songs and candy hearts. Break a few rules and the incest taboo operates to restrain his total
On Saturday, not for the first time, my dad offers to buy me a gun. I’m still in my running gear, sitting on my bed, certain I’m leaving sweaty ass-prints on my good quilt, but I’ve got no choice. I have to sit here, crammed against the wall’s one outlet because my phone can’t hold a charge, and I have to call him. He’s my dad, and I want him to make me feel better.
You never know what you'll find poking through the loose sheet music in an antiques store. Take this, for example: a souvenir from the days when Ivy League schools were good at football, orchestra leaders were a cultural force, and other things were not so different at all. Ladies! Gather ’round the parlor piano and tune your ukuleles to B-flat, because I’m about to teach you the new song all the college boys will…
This is E.B. Bartels' first essay for The Butter. Her previous work for The Toast can be found here. In college, I was a terrible Russian language and literature major. I never finished reading Crime and Punishment, I still haven’t touched War and Peace, and I never went to the public Russian baths. Even though I spent a significant amount of time in the Motherland -- a month living in a Siberian village on…
I used to have a hard time understanding the intimate friendships between other women. They talked multiple times each day, texted encouragements like, “You got this!” and shared emotions more intimate than romance. I couldn’t help feeling both envious and smug. An engineer and Silicon Valley entrepreneur, I had adapted by deriding the girlish sentimentality I couldn’t seem to understand. My friend Amy, in constant contact with her best friend Alyssa, tried to explain it to…
If she is attractive; tell your readers exactly how attractive, within the first paragraph. Speculate on whether she is attracted to you. If she has become successful and not moved to a Western country; ask why, speculate on if she realizes how attractive she is: could this be the reason why she hasn't moved? If she writes about a non-Western country; see if you can find a dead white guy to quote. It…
