Okay, I’m not going to embed the infamous video of Moe and Tracie from Jezebel drunkenly disclaiming on pulling out as viable birth control, unwanted pregnancy, and how it’s okay to be reckless in Williamsburg because the guys there are pussies, but I will link to it.
Because I think it’s relevant to this conversation we’re having about sluttiness and regret: how much of sexual adventure is about knowingly putting yourself in danger?
I’m thinking: some.
That sure-I-was-raped-so-what video sparked an uproar about third-wave ladies having reckless, unprotected, casual sex and getting date-raped and not thinking it was such a big deal.
Of course it delighted the stereotypical-second-wave finger-waggers, who finally had tape on this dubious trend they have been condemning. (*Cough* Linda Hirshman *cough*.) Continue reading
During a lull at work today, I found myself googling exes for fun, like ya do. I never expect to actually find anything.
But today I learned that a guy I had a thing with back in 1994, Brad Will, was shot a couple of years ago in Mexico. There is even a photo of his murdered body online.
Probably no one exemplifies the progressive 90s man more than Brad, who played music and wrote poety and exuded a combination of hubris and honor, sentimentality and recklessness.