job description

As a reminder, here is a list of the many jobs I perform here.

1. Empathic listener
2. Unlicensed clinical therapist
3. Metaphorical sledgehammer
4. Inventor of important and necessary concepts (such as metaphysical blackmail and quartz palace reflector syndrome and ockham's plaid underpants)
5. Jew
6. President
7. Frontline solidier
8. Acupuncturist
9. Feminist gangster
10. Making fetch happen
11. Reader of anonymous screen caps
12. Self-published author
13. Personal assistant to Judy Shakestown
14. For several years, I've been in complete charge of pretty much everything in my life. There's certain things that you just can't have control of, sir.
15. Professional lister
16. Garbageperson
17. Meteorologist
18. Cunstronaut
19. Robomod
20. Blogger
21. Informal correspondent to the white house
22. Zookeeper
23. Meta-content generator

ableist slur pixie dream weather

[CN: slurs of which I approve]

Interrupting my racism education tour to comment on this manic pixie dream weather bipolar schizo fairy night terror weather. I have said it once and I will say it a maudmillion times more if I have to, WTF CUNTWEATHER.

ALSO, I have discovered on my trek that for mesus fucking knows what reason, people everywhere still think it is acceptable to use the words "stupid," "moron," and "crazy." What a bunch of manic twatcanoes.

Intro to Cunstronauts: License to Sisyphus Transcription Projects

I am SO EMBARRASSED. Abby Cabbagepatch totes just commandeered my twitter account to post an unexpected tweetstorm of praise upon me. I am so utterly HUMBLED that I just had to modestly repost them all here.

I get hate mail

This morning I received the following garbagetribe in my email box in response to my brilliant post about hate blogs.

Hi, Judith, I read you're post, "Bah your hate blogs" this morning and really appreciated it. I wish though that I never had to hear the phrase, "Sorry, I'm not fucking perfect." I lost my dad recently, and this is something he used to say all the time. It really made me feel like I couldn't ever raise any complaints or like I was making ridiculous demands on him when I was just asking him to drive me to school or stop creating emotionally abusive cults online. Needless to say, we had a complicated relationship, but it's been rough. I just lost my job, and I keep wanting to ask my roommate to pay her share of the rent but I'm afraid she'll just be like "Sorry, I'm not perfect!" and then get me evicted somehow. I'm not really sure what to do. When someone brings up something that I do that bothers them, I've started trying to just really listen to them and be responsive instead of just screaming "Sorry, I'm not perfect" and punching them in the face. It's been difficult. That phrase just brings up a lot of different feelings. Talking about it helps though. Thanks for listening.

unnecessary community note

[CN: Snail Farts]

I received a fictitious e-mail in which someone used the shorthand "Shakestown" to refer to the HUMAN PEOPLE who write here.

No.

I am a fucking human being.

I am not a fish, or a robot, or an alien, or an embryo, or a fucking town. I am a human person, who writes posts here.

As a reminder, Judithshakestown, the blog run by human people, has a fuckbillion parts that I don't have to tell you all about if I don't want to, but here are a few of them:

1) Content. Generated by ME and my unpaid "co-"contributors. I write about ten billion words a day.

I am a fucking human being.

2) Comments. I spend roughly two thousand to three hundred million hours a week responding to comments and keeping this space protected for everyone who is me. When visiting every other site on the internet, you might have to actually read the title of a post to ascertain whether it will contain any triggering material. Here, I will automatically let you know if this post contains anything about snail farts, etc.

I am a fucking human being.

3) Responding to emails. Given my profound wisdom, lack of training in counseling/psychotherapy, and the fact that I am leading a well put together, model life, people understandably contact me for advice about everything from relationship troubles to how to leave a cult to what kind of tattoo they should purchase with other people's child support money. I do my best to respond to every single one of these emails because it's my self-appointed job.

Now, you may have seen some cuntstronauts posting on HATE blogs that they have contacted me for advice or help finding resources, etc., and claiming that I never responded to them. These people are just anti-feminist, gun-toting douche yachts who are upset because they wanted me to do something that violates my arbitrary, ever-shifting core principles and so I reasonably ignored them for the sake of my own health. Protecting my own health is a feminist act and anyone who wants me to jeopardize my health and die in order to respond to an email is a horrible racist troll member of the RNC.

I am a fucking human being.

4) Behind the scenes. I don't know if you fully understand, but there is a lot of behind the scenes work involved in spending your money.

I am a fucking human being, monkey canoes.

Quit it out.