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Despite last week’s doxing of her latest alleged Five Year Stalker, The Feminist Breeder has not moved on. In a post on Facebook yesterday Gina continued her evil cartoon queen laughing about her big victory over ‘trolls’.
When any of her fans expressed the opinion that this fixation was becoming a bit tiresome for her readers, Gina accused them of siding with the ‘trolls’. With increasing defensiveness in the comments Gina claimed to have “all the proof in the world on my side”, and when informed that perhaps doxing someone and contacting their family was not the way to handle it, Gina responded:
People are free to contact my husband about whatever they want. Then again, I’m not embarrassed by my behavior.
She then went on to share a ‘cauliflower rice’ recipe and gushed over some Mackelmore baby wearing picture.
Gina, aka The Feminist Breeder, troll hunter, has spent the past two years rooting out “trolls” in her “community”. Last week, in her ongoing effort to control access to her amazing world, she informed all subscribers they must provide links to personal social media accounts so she can verify their identity. Apparently at least one subscriber decided to peace out rather than give Gina her information, and cancelled her subscription. Gina promptly disabled her account, at which point the user asked Paypal for a refund since she had already paid for the month, and she still had two weeks left from that payment.
And then everything went straight to crazytown. Gina took to the google machine and dug up everything she could about the person, based on information provided by the user during the Paypal transaction. And then she posted that information on her Facebook page.
Her point evidently not made, she then took to twitter to call out the user. Gina then made the ultimate feminist move – she tried to get the user’s husband involved in handling his woman.
Gina is claiming the woman has been “stalking me for FIVE years”, and published a post to her blog asking readers for support. The alleged “stalker” “troll” has now responded with a post of her own telling her side of the story.
Yes, I subscribed to her lame ass blog. I’ll admit that. But aside from occasionally snarking her on BBTFB, and asking PayPal for a prorated refund. I NEVER. AND I mean NEVER. interacted in any way with this crazy pants…Apparently, The Feminist Breeder, safely behind her paywall, shared as much of my personal information as she possibly could…she basically doxes, or shares as much of my personal info with as many strangers as possible…
With both sides screaming “TOS violation” and “stalking” it’s hard to sort out precisely what’s going on, but if you’re bored today this should give you some WTFery to rabbit hole into.
Jordan Reid, self-proclaimed ‘writer’, is on her family roadtrip from NYC to San Jose. Along the way she decided to stop in Hot Springs, Arkansas for a ‘couple of days’.
I want to be clear: there are great things about the area. It is beautiful out there in the country…There is so much poverty. There is so much decay. And god, is there ever a lot of racial tension; you can practically feel it in the air.
The ‘liberal resident of a coastal state’ then described the horrifying situations she was exposed to in omgAR.
The hotel we stayed in – which was the second-nicest one in town, from what I gathered – had cockroaches on the floor, chipped walls in the elevators, trash on the mattresses, a two-foot-wide pool of water in the carpet from a leaky air conditioner, and burned-out lightbulbs. Outside the hotel sat a woman in a wheelchair wearing a Confederate flag t-shirt, smoking alternately from the long cigarettes she held, one in each hand.
This basically sounds like something from any number of New York City neighborhoods, so I’m not sure why she had to travel to Dixie to experience such upsetting sights. She goes on to say the ‘hotel received two visits from police officers within twelve hours (two that we knew of, at least)’; that she heard someone use the n word; that she and her family unwittingly rode in an elevator where someone had been pepper sprayed minutes before.
I can’t feel good about having gone to this place, and failing to show you what I really saw. Because there was a dark and ugly undercurrent hiding behind the facade of leisure…
Jordan is responding to the collective ‘wtf?’ of much of her audience by saying ‘it was important to write about it – if only for the reason that writing gets people talking’. Because obviously nobody was discussing poverty and racism in America until a white, upper middle class lady from a white, upper middle class suburb told everyone how awful poverty and racism are, and she should know because she made a choice to stay in a bad hotel that one time.
Cupcakes and Cashmere, provider of elevated lifehacks, has shared her secret for those times “when someone’s service dies or they accidentally hang up and you spend the next ten minutes frantically dialing each other at the same time and can’t get through”. She and her best friend have a system that will forever alter the way you deal with dropped calls.
…simple things like phone conversations carry more weight, which led us to develop a bit of a strategy for those annoying times when calls drop…Our solution is simple: whomever initially dialed the other person is in charge of calling back. That’s it!
You guys. YOU GUYS. I don’t about you but I literally never thought of having a system for those times someone goes “sccrrr static sound driving into a tunnel *click*”. Usually I just text and say “call back if you want” or one of us, ya know, picks up call waiting if we are trying to dial them while they dial us. Now I can inform the other party of my phone pre-nup before the conversation even starts! In a world full of questions and confusion I say brava to Emily for continuing to post amazing content that the internet sorely needs.
I received a lovely gift today – a copy of ‘Hey Natalie Jean’, the world tour worthy freshman book effort by the blogger formerly known as Nat the Fat Rat. Because I so enjoy drinking and falling on grenades for my GOMI hamily, I will now proceed to use my day off to read this with a bottle or five of prosecco and update this post in real time with my thoughts, including pictures. Just keep on hitting refresh – I’ll get the first part up and then continue updating as I read. Off we go!
Natalie Holbrook, hip and dreamy, has a book coming out March 17th. In an attempt to drum up excitement she has been doing giveaways all week, culminating in today’s big bonanza – a chance to win her ‘uniform’ of boots and Madewell jeans, and a copy of her book. Just follow her simple entry rules!
To enter, head over to one of these retailers…and preorder that sucker! Then go here and fill out the entry form. If you’ve already preordered, bless you! Lemme kiss your face! Go find that email and enter your confirmation number ASAP, you’re already in!
Yes, you read that right: Natalie wants you to prove you have purchased her book in order to enter to win a copy of her book. I’m not a lolyer…but isn’t that sort of thing frowned upon by the law?
Neely, the most special snowflake to ever go unjustly ignored in the blizzard of blogland, has apparently spent the past week slamming her wedding photographer all over creation. Taking her ‘story’ straight to NBC, Neelykins got herself interviewed for that thar real teevee.
Though the photographer, Andrea Polito, responded to requests from NBC describing the situation and offering proof in her defense, media outlets around the country went with the “wronged bride” angle. This of course caused thousands of people to pile on Andrea as some kind of wedding dream destroyer – even taking to her Yelp page to post AIDS jokes – while Neely allegedly went around liking commentary from her supporters (Update: Neely now claims this was not her and must have been an impersonator).
Finally Andrea posted a response on her own blog in an attempt to slow the persecution, stating there are emails which prove Neely’s claims false.
The story you are not hearing is that it was only last week when the bride claimed to realize that, per our contract, welcome packet, and emails, she would not get her wedding images until her album was completed. This conflicts with the numerous emails in which we clearly reiterated what is stated in the contract…
After a few days the tide began to turn in Andrea’s favor. Suddenly Neely did a 180 on trash talking people.
Neely had also posted tweets and instagrams about ‘justice’ being ‘served’, now all suddenly deleted after whispers of a lawsuit began going around. But she did of course post a nice Everyone’s Just Jealous quote to replace the removed ones, because that’s how bloggers cope.
James, the Bleubird blogger behind Mothermag, recently went on a comped vacation at a Mississippi poverty theme park/hotel thing. Seriously, I’m not sure what else to call it. It’s literally old sharecropper shacks sitting by a cotton field, where white hipsters can go play Huckleberry Finn for a few days. Thankfully James and co. were duly respectful of the place’s history and didn’t carry on like a bunch of imperialists come to frolic among the savages. Oh wait.
When we arrived to The Shacks (yes, shacks. That is what they are called because they are literally shacks)…We stayed in “The Rich House”, which is their biggest accommodation…The next morning we explored the cotton field next to our house…
The James clan thoughtfully contemplated their surroundings, the scene of so much past poverty and despair.
We spent the afternoon with our friends and their families, flying kites with the kids and playing in the cotton field. That night everyone gathered at our house and cooked a giant feast…
They spent the evening in their big shack, probably the former home of a brutally poor tenant farmer, gorging on “the most incredible pulled pork, sweet mashed potatoes, corn bread, roasted this and that, salad, and more”. Afterwards, they hopped into the GMC Yukon they were given free, to review, and headed home to their white house, to sleep on their clean white beds.
Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, everyone!
XOJane is trying to post better content lately. As part of that noble effort, they are sharing stories sent in by suicidal teenagers. In a piece titled “How Do I Stop Hating Myself?” a kid asks advice from the Hivers on how to deal with problems that should really be dealt with by a professional.
I’m 17 and I had my first, and so far only, boyfriend when I was 13…A few days before my sixteenth birthday I got a text from a friend of his saying that he was dead. I knew he killed himself and I keep blaming myself for it.
The writer goes on to say they “can’t stop thinking if I had done more he’d still be here today” and adds they “haven’t self harmed in awhile, but this still gets to me so much so that thoughts of suicide flood my head because I just want to stop hurting and blaming myself”.
Does anyone else wonder wtf was going through the XOEditors’ minds when they posted this? Rather than responding “wow this is probably something you should seek counseling for, here are some resources”, they posted it for ragebait and pageviews. Welcome to ‘legitimate online media’, folks.
Jenna Cole, everyone’s favorite parenthood storyteller, is once again spreading the magic of Christmas with her sympathetic approach to childhood dreams. Oh wait, no she’s not; she’s reminding everyone – mainly her small son – that Santa isn’t real, lest anyone but Jenna get credit for those gifts under the Businesslady Balsam she has erected in her honor.
I knew that this was my chance to let him in on the Grownup Secret…I emphasized how important it is that he keep this secret to himself and not tell any of the other kids. When I said that Santa isn’t real, and that it’s a game that parents play with their kids, he smiled really big and immediately embraced the idea that he was very mature and able to handle the information.
Just as she did in 2011 Jenna is making it clear that she will not be teaching her kids that some jelly belly’d house crasher from the Arctic Circle is responsible for their gift getting joy. Their gratitude will be firmly directed at Jenna, and Jenna only, or else she will procure a passive aggressive ceramic reminder of your betrayal.
And so, this year when I was selecting the ornament I would give to T1 for 2014, I chose Santa and a small boy, skating off into the sunset together. To represent this year as the one where my kid chose a mythical Santa Claus figure over the being who actually has the power to hear and deliver on his heart’s deepest desires.
Oh well, at least T1 first got a chance to tell all the kids at preschool that his Mommy says Santa isn’t real. I’m sure all the other parents appreciate that. Happy Holidays!
Dooce, mother without children, attempted to sound uplifting by posting a making-the-best-of-it staged photo to her instagram. The caption was a long novella full of missing her kids, something something new traditions, and a lukewarm acknowledgment of her fangirls’ support.
This holiday isn’t exactly how I’d pictured it, of course, being without my girls…May all of us who are creating and living these new traditions experience that same happiness ourselves…I’ve already heard from so many of you and want to offer you my encouragement in exchange.
She then closed out the long caption with a big fat #sponsored tag. Yes, the photo was sponsored. By painkillers. Is there any moment bloggers won’t sell?
A little over a year ago I got pulled over for running a red light in St. John’s (the most racially diverse neighborhood in Portland). I was on my way home from a party at which I had more than one glass of wine. Likely more than one BOTTLE. My car was not registered. I was uninsured. I thought I was f**kED.
But lol nope! She’s blonde so it was totally ok! “But me and my shiny blond hair got off with only a ticket.”
She went on to inform the world that being able to drive on home (evidently while drunk) and sleep it off in her own bed “made me sick that night. Utterly sick.” She then cried her blonde white self to sleep over her blonde white privilege.
Did anyone miss the part where this canker just admitted driving while drunk? Am I the only person focusing on that? Because her fanpoodles are high fiving her bravery like she just admitted she led the storm at Normandy. Look, I’m all for solidarity but maybe wink winking about how you drove home with “likely more than one bottle” of wine in you is not a cute way to go about it.