The Importance of the Women's March to the Pro-Choice Movement

For the longest time, there has been March For Life. As a kid, the youth group of my church constantly went. We were beat over the head with the evils of abortion and how it destroyed the family. Priests preached at length about how the baby was killed during partial birth, and the Clinton's were monsters for supporting it. Abortion was murder, end of story.

At the age of 10, I gave out the white ribbons. I also helped design a cross in my Sunday School class as a monument to a soul killed to abortion. This whole debate was black and white. Abortionist doctors were bad. Women who got abortions were evil. The babies were angels. There was no talk of the father who flew the coup or the abusive husband who forced her into a pregnancy.

As I got older, I saw friends of mine get pregnant as teenagers. The Christian Right in my area pushed sex ed with religious speakers preaching for us to abstain from pre-marital sex. That was as effective as a band aid on a bullet wound. My high school had the highest pregnancy rate in the area as a matter of fact.

Some of these girls had support, but many struggled. The social stigma at school was horrendous. Some dropped out because they couldn't work, watch their kid, and go to school. The teen dad always cut and run, and he seldom had a job so garnishing the wages were out of the question. Most of the pro-life zealots were also white men who preached God, but wanted to cut the social programs to help these women.

The older I got, the more I realized it was a woman's body and it was her choice. She has to have the baby, and for the most part a man is just a sperm donor and jockey in the equation. There are men who do the right thing, but there are many who don't. Yet the world punishes the woman. Adoption should be an option and is a wonderful one. There are people willing to take kids as their own who aren't blessed with the ability, but you need the birth father's signature in some states and others make it difficult. And religious adoption agencies won't give to same sex couples who will gladly give that child a good, safe home.

For years, as I shed the conservative skin of my youth, I cringed when I saw March For Life. This wasn't a march for the unborn or the poor women in trouble. This was a march for the patriarchy to take control of my body. This was a march for bored white law makers who were obsessed with my uterus.

I realized if a woman had an abortion she always felt like she was the worst person ever. I realized if a woman gave her child up for adoption she always lost sleep wondering if the kid had a good life. I realized if a woman kept the kid she was forced on welfare most of the time and felt cheated out of what her life could have been. There are no winners here, and white male lawmakers fail to realize that.

That being said, for years Pro-Choice had no counter protest. Now we do. With every protest there is always a counter protest, or at least there should be. March For Life has their day, and we have ours. If anything, Trump made Pro-Choice activists mobilize in a way we never have before. Yes, one side believes my stance is morally wrong, and I believe their stance hurts women and children.

Despite my strong beliefs I have friends who are pro-life. We do not disagree on everything. For instance, we all agree most people overlook adoption and it should be easier for people who want to adopt to adopt. We also think there need to be social programs to help single mothers finish school so they aren't always dependent on welfare, and those programs shouldn't be cut. Because not only can they get educated, but their children don't continue the cycle by becoming teen parents themselves. Lastly, we all agree the court needs to come down harder on dead beat dads.

The March For Life and The Women's March are both important events. While I don't agree with pro-life completely, both need to continue to occur so the dialogue can happen. That way, women can make an informed decision as to what they want to do with their bodies without government interference. That the choice they make will be a safe one with the proper medical care.

And it will be the best one for the mother and child, whatever that choice might be.

Buy My Merch

Weiner Whack

Yesterday I was part of the festivities when DOMA was lifted. Celebrating that our world was changing for the better, I was doing some political activism. Yesterday, I was canvassing for Yetta Kurland. Unlike many of her opponents, Yetta is a true Progressive on the Democratic ticket. She cares not only about the LGBTQ Community but also women. She fights for women's rights whether it comes to our right to choose or equal pay for equal work regardless of gender. Not to mention Yetta campaigns for animal rights and I loooovvvveee the people working on her campaign. And she is a friend of my friend Carlos Valentin who by the way is a fabulous director. So yes, I am on Team Yetta.Oh and she accepted my friend request on facebook and tweeted back at me. Team Yetta it is!

TEAM YETTA!!!!!!!

Anyway, I was minding my own business canvassing. I got hugs from strangers and people were being really nice to each other. Even when people didn't want to sign the petition they were nice. It's because they had signed fifty others or they were too busy on their way to make out now that they could get married. That is when I saw some action.

They was some chatter. I look over and there he is, Anthony Weiner. Yes, he was the politician who showed his pee pee to that girl. He was disgraced. He had to resign. His wife was four months pregnant. It was all bad. And then he was replaced by a Republican (YUCK!) But nonetheless he was still a good candidate and a good politician. Before the arrival of Mr. Weiner, no pun intended, I had been talking to his canvassers and they said that they got to meet him and he was mucho coolio. So as he was running around I decided to snap a pic with him.

Anthony Weiner and I on the historic day DOMA was lifted

I figure yes his last name is ironic. Yes he is a Democrat reminiscent of Bill Clinton in some ways. On the other hand he cares about working people, the middle class, families, LGBTQ People, and women. Especially women, but that is in a different way-couldn't resist, sorry. On the other hand his heart is in a good place. Now hopefully he keeps it in his pants cause voters are stoopid. Sigh McSigh Sigh

xoxoxo
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Paperback available on Amazon and 877-Buy-Book
E-Book available on Kindle and Nook, also through Brown and NYU Books
Audiobook available on itunes and Audible this Summer
www.youtube.com/aprilthestarr
Portion of proceeds go to Ali Fornay Center

How Not To Get A Woman Part Deux

A few years ago, at twenty three, I was waiting to do a comedy show at a pretty much redneck bar. If you have ever seen Blues Brothers and remember that scene in the bar when they keep singing "Rawhide" that is pretty much this place. Anyway, I was early to this pretty much hell gig. Sitting at the bar, I got myself a pop as we call it in Pittsburgh and patiently waited for the producer and booker to show. Just then filing in were a bunch of rednecks. Inbred to the max, they were mullet and flannel wearing. I looked down, told myself to focus on the fireplace. I had been early and still had two hours to go. The only reason I had done this was I had no idea where I was going and hate to be late.

Two of the rednecks glanced at the poster where I was and then back at me several times before making the connection that the girl on the poster and the girl on the bar stool were one in the same. At times like this I wished I had the commentary of the robot cast of Mystery Science Theatre 3000. That is when the game was on. One guy who looked and spoke like the retarded brother of Larry the Cable Guy walked over and said, "You're the comedian."

I nodded. Then he asked, "Are you funny?" Dear God, I hate that question. No, I am not funny. I am a sad and depressing sack of shit and that is why I get onstage. I want people to cry and Regional Theatre wasnt casting so here I am. Of course I am funny ass weed.

"Maybe." I said. I didnt want to talk to this mongoloid any longer. That is when his buddy, who was shorter and even stupider announced that he was going to tell me some jokes. According to his buddy I was "very pretty" and he knew he could "impress a gorgeous girl" like myself. Translated, I had all my teeth and that was a rarity in these parts.

Well Conway Twitty as I will call him began his attempt at comedy. He started with a moderately racist joke one of my drunkles told me as a child. However, he quickly moved on. All of his jokes were about black people being lynched, killed, arrested, and raping white women. Oh and he didn't say black people, he used the "n" word. My whole thing is, if you are going to go offensive you better be funny. This dude was offensive, unfunny, and just a downright bully. Basically a stupid redneck who probably learned how to speak last week. Despite the fact I clearly wasn't into it he kept going. His friends all thought he was the greatest thing since Johnny Carson, and one even said so. I thought about lying that I had to get some air, but I was in the middle of no where and this was pretty much the only destination.

While I joke about race from time to time, they are jokes. I have friends from everywhere and cousins who are mixed as well. Sure these were jokes but the hatefulness was starting to bother me, especially since it WASN'T FUNNY. If he was trying to impress me the only thing impressive here was his utter ignorance.

As the barrage of unfunny continued, this dude moved on to bashing gay people in his jokes. Except instead of the term homosexual he used the "f" word. Again, if you are going to be offensive, you better be funny. This dude was unfunny, offensive, and thought he was impressing me. Note, many of my friends are gay and my book is a part of the Pride Scavenger Hunt this year. I kept hoping he would stop but there was no limit to this man. In his jokes gay people were being stoned to death and black people were being dragged in the back of cars by chains.

Just when I didnt think it could get any worse, he and his friends asked me if I ever thought rape was okay. I told them as a woman it was never okay to rape someone. What did they expect me to say, "Rape, rape, and rape some more." Yes lets rape. That is when they informed me women had too many rights and one of the guys informed me he had just beaten a rape charge. According to him, the woman just "Made it all up." Yes it was official, somewhere along the lines I pissed God off and was dropped into hell. Note, when my male comedian comrades make these jokes these are jokes. They would never hurt me for real. These guys, well I wasn't so sure.

That is when the unfunny racist, sexist, homophobe and the suspected rapist began to argue over who was getting my number. It was like that scene in Dirty Work. I just wanted to say, "I think you should fight it out" and then walk away apathetic as hell.

In any event, as this was going on a black dude walked in. Immediately I figured there was going to be a fight at some point and I could take these dudes, so I walked over to the black dude and said hi. These red necks were amazed that I dissed them. One said, "I see she likes the dark meat." I didnt like the dark meat per se especially when the light meat probably tasted like chewing tobacco. In any event, I ended up talking to the black dude and liking him. These dudes then left the bar and kept bitching about what a "cunt" I was. When I told the black dude what happened he laughed and told me they were just morons and not to pay attention. I had a drink with the dude and then he left.

About a half hour later the comedians came and we did the show. It was a rough crowd with a heckler. I did okay but told myself I wasn't coming back to this hell hole in the woods again. I haven't returned since. Still, one thing about me is that I don't like an ignorant bully. Maybe it was because I was bullied as a kid, or maybe my mom raised me better. I dunno. But ignorant bully plus unfunny equals not getting my number.

Love

April

I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Paperback available on Amazon and 877-Buy-Book
E-Book available on Kindle and Nook
Audiobook available on itunes and Audible this Spring
www.youtube.com/aprilthestarr
Portion of proceeds go to Greenpeace

Using My Voice: Why We Should All Vote

Election Day is here. We are all sick of hearing about it. We have the Democrats promising more change. While there has been a lot done to clean up the proverbial oil spill Bush has left, there is still a lot of wreckage and our country is far from being perfect. There are the Republicans promising economic growth but unsure of how they are going to trim the budget while they take away the rights of women and gays. But the thing is, it takes many ideas to make the world go round. And therefore it takes many opinions to make this country work.

This morning I went to the polls. I didnt know when I was going to vote but the sign said voting here and then had aqui for our Spanish friends. When I went it was like a school assembly. Go here, go there. I saw friends and there was an odd bonding like we were all here doing something important. I saw a guy I knew from college on his way to work and he had just cast his ballot for Obama. Then a man I barely know from the gym but it friends with a million of my friends was eating a bananna and we exchanged a high five. We had just cast our ballot. We had just used our voices. We had just made our point.

There is all this mumbo jumbo that your voice doesn't count because of the electoral college. The truth of the matter is, your voice doesn't count only if you don't make it count. In my twenty-eight years of life I have learned you are only out of the ball game if you put yourself on the bench. I made my voice count. I made myself heard. I voted and when I marked my ballot I casted what I believed in.

When I voted for President Obama I said that women deserved equal protection under the law. We are not second class citizens. We deserve clinics like the Planned Parenthood because we need gyno care and cannot always afford it. I also protected my right to choose. My right to choose is not just to have an abortion but also to give my child up for adoption. My right to choose is to choose to keep my child and raise it. Under the law I have a choice. None are easy. But the Republicans want to take that away. They want to control my uterus. I am saying no.

When I vote for Obama I am also defending my rights as a stalking victim. There are conservative male critics who would say that someone like myself who had an ex who was abusive I deserved this. But because of liberals there are places where women like myself can seek counseling and shelter because it is not our fault. I also had a fan stalk me a few months ago. While I am slowly getting my confidence back, I know that again, there are places where I can seek protection and it is liberal legislation. It is people like them who tell me it's not my fault. It is people like them who protect women and don't want to take us back to 1950s and put us into binders.

When I vote for President Obama I am saying that I want my gay friends to have equal protection under the law as well. This means that they are not treated as second class citizens in a country where they work and pay taxes. This means that they have things like hospital visits with their partners and the right to marry without some misinformed bigot telling them that an outdated book condemns their so called choice when science has proven that this is all biology.

When I vote for President Obama I am saying that I support stem cell research. My brother and sister are both in research. Stem cells are currently helping people with cancer and AIDS. No one asks for cancer and despite the stigma no one asks for AIDS either. While the Christians selfishly use every excuse for their worn out pro-life platform, stem cells are saving lives. I am saying yes we can.

When I vote for President Obama I am saying that I want universal health care. I am a freelancer and sometimes things wax and wane with my job. While my lifestyle is my choice, a full time job would mean benefits but also take me away from my career. With universal healthcare I have coverage no matter what. Also it protects poor children who did not ask to be brought into this world with single mothers. They need healthcare too. What about them?

When I vote for Obama I am saying global warming is a concern. I live in a city that has been through a hurricane. We had an earthquake yesterday in Jersey and as a New Yorker I was sick from the aftermath. We supposedly have a snow storm this week. The Republicans deny this while I know this is a fact. We had no winter last year. Big industry has destroyed our planet. People in the Rockaways have no food, clothing or shelter. Mitt wants to take away FEMA. I am saying no. I am saying these people are helpless through no fault of their own. I am saying that they don't deserve to loose everything. I am saying you are out of touch Mitt.

When I vote for Obama I am saying thank you for cleaning up the economy and for making my job that nearly dried up in 2009 have a second life. As a freelancer I can tell you that around the middle of 2010 and 2011 when my job began picking up there were tremendous signs of growth in the economy. It was all because of the hard work of our president.

I espoused my views and maybe you disagreed. However no matter what your views are your job is to make your voice heard. Maybe you hate Obama. Maybe you hate the health care plan because you are pro-life and don't want to pay for my birth control or abortions. Maybe you are anti-gay marriage because of your religious beliefs. Maybe you are anti-stem cell because of your faith as well. Maybe you believe global warming is a myth. Maybe you are unemployed and furious. Maybe you believe Mitt will clean up the economy. If that is your belief, don't just take it to facebook like a numskull. Go and vote and make your voice heard.

There are many opinions in this world. I have friends and family members that are Republicans. It's not even because they are anti-gay or crazy but don't want the government in their business. Some are pro-life for religious reasons. I would say that they are still good people.

No matter what our beliefs are we must stand together and make this country work. We must make our voices heard on the ballot. We must let the people speak.

In the words of PA Republican senator Tim Murphy, "It is important that both parties work together to make things better."

So what I am trying to say is, if you want more Obama, VOTE!. If you want some Mitt, VOTE!

Don't just sit on your ass.

V-O-T-E!

Love April

I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl

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Shut Up, Woman

Recently, someone outside of comedy asked me what I thought of everything that happened as a result of Eddie Brill being fired from Letterman. This person, while a friend, foolishly believes everything the media prints. I explained that Eddie Brill is not prejudice against female comedians, and overall does not hate women. They asked me how I know. One, in this piece of old news everyone knows that the “journalist” did a hatchet job to further his own dubious career, and second, I know Eddie. Eddie has always been supportive of me in my endeavors. Plus just because you take a workshop with a producer doesn’t mean you will get on the show.

There are plenty of factors that make a person Letterman friendly. One is age, the second is funny, and thirdly do Dave and the booker like you.

What seemed more abhorrent was how people were willing to throw stones at Eddie Brill, a man who is a friend to all comedians regardless of their gender. Did this outsider friend not follow the story, seeing how the women in comedy rallied around Eddie? At least those that knew the truth did.

What offends me is how women hate is allowed sometimes and not allowed other times depending on the individual in question. We love in a culture that no doubt is sexist, chauvinistic, and the glass ceiling, while barely visible, still exists. Sports commentators time and time again make veiled anti-woman references yet they are allowed to keep their jobs. Not to mention Sean Connery once said in an interview it was okay to hit women, and Hollywood still hires him. Mel Gibson and Charlie Sheen actually hit women and they are saluted as anti-heroes who, while we claim to dislike these hooker buying cokeheads who abuse women, we buy the tickets when they come to town.

Don’t even let me get started on rap music. On nine out of ten rap albums there is a song about raping women, abusing women, and Eminem even goes so far as to wish the mother of his child dead in the trunk of a car. The word bitch is used as a proper noun to describe females as well. Yet this music that perpetuates that it is okay to hit a woman is allowed to remain on shelves, and these woman abusers are millionaires.

What is wrong with this picture?

You ask me what makes me an authority on men who do and don’t hate women and how I can tell? When I was twenty one years old I almost married a very abusive, sick man. Suffering from borderline personality disorder, my ex had abandonment issues. Being a nice college woman, I thought I could change a man who did massive amounts of drugs, dated strippers as well as other women who worked in the sex trade, and had a violent temper. I was wrong. I was always wrong because I was a woman. My ex couldn’t stand that I had more friends than him, was more educated than him, and ultimately had more of a future than he could ever hope to have.

My ex controlled me by telling me which of my friends I could and couldn’t talk to. Then it was that his friends thought my ventriloquism was stupid. Meanwhile, these rejects can be found living in your local trailer park. After that there was the fact I couldn’t wear makeup. And then he offered to kill his mother to get the money to be with me because she had a hefty insurance policy, and that is just the tip of the ice berg. He would also call his own mother a whore on the regular.

After we broke up he told me he wanted me dead and humiliated me publically whenever he could. The stalking got out of control to the point where I now have a separate mailing address. I think I have a good idea of what a woman hater is.

These days I can spot it quicker than a fat boy catches a jelly donut. I can tell you Eddie Brill does not hate women. I can spot these attitudes within minutes of meeting a man. Most real men with a quarter of a brain don’t hate women. They don’t think abuse of women in any way, shape , or form is funny or tolerable. Most of the time they don’t have a problem with me. We actually get along well. Most guys with half a brain know that women are meaner to themselves than they could ever be, so they actually treat us kindly.

Because I can spot it I call these mouth breathers out on it. They don't know what to do when I tell them, "Your problem is you hate women, and I don't care if you like me because I wasn't created to lay on my back for your needs." They never know how to take the fact that they have been busted. Yes, I am the nightmare of those assholes and I am not afraid to fight with them. Just like any bully, they don't like a victim willing to stand up to them, and yes they do back off in shame. Dickwads. 

It’s that minority of guys however who are troubling. Yes, I am talking about RFK, Jr. His recent claims was that his wife beat him. I don’t believe that for a second. And if he did they left out the part of the story where he kept telling her about his affairs with other women. Or about how she had to find out from others that he wantonly molested women at cocktail parties. I would have beat my husband too. Actually, her mistake was not beating him to death with a crow bar and burying his body in the back yard.

That’s what I would do. Then if anyone asked I would say he left with an eighteen year old cheerleader.

I know from experience how painful it can be. My ex fiancé used to tell me that he had to sleep with other women, such as his stripper ex girlfriends, because I didn’t do it for him. This was often followed by terrible, violent arguments that got physical. Why did I stay? I thought my love could change a man who was so twisted against women it wasn’t even funny.

But as I said, I can usually spot a guy who dislikes women. One such person was a former Last Comic Standing contestant who shall remain nameless, but I will say he was on between seasons 4-7. This individual was just so arrogant and when I spoke to him literally in not so many words let me know I was created on Earth just to give him sexual pleasure. He bragged about preying on the women in the New York City comedy scene. On top of that, he bragged about preying on the various women he worked with, and often tricked women into doing his dirty work. I wondered how he did it with his limited success and talent. Of course, the writing was on the wall when I saw how he humiliated a beautiful female contestant on the show. Then again, his career has gone down which is God’s fitting way of punishing this moron.

My question is, why aren’t pricks like this being crucified in the press, and why are they going after male bookers who help women as being anti-female?

What is worse, is when this anti-female minority raises their voice they are stupid is as stupid does. Whenever I speak in defense of women these men, who clearly don’t have a brain in their head, accuse me of being a man hater. When I say domestic violence is wrong as well as beating women, belittling women, and abusing them I never say I hate men.

Then again, idiots never listen.

Of course there are the morons who think my comedy is anti-male. I never say I hate men in my routine about my ex. I talk about a disaster of a breakup and how it’s funny. I have been called “bitter” by idiot male comedians and even bigger idiot male bookers. At the same time, most men, bookers and comics as well as audience have been receptive.

What’s wrong? Did I strike a nerve? I wasn’t crawling in the dirt like you wanted me to be? I told the truth so that makes me a bad girl?

As long as we are getting ready to do a public hanging, put me next to the guy unjustly accused of hating women because someone wants to do a hatchet job. Let’s leave the morons who treat women like crap and prey on them to continue their game. Of course, they are without fault.

What am I talking about? I am just a woman.

Sheesh

Love,

April

Femanazi

This past year I have found myself involved in some Women’s Issues Activism. I have made videos speaking about this, I have spoken about this online, and I have written about this. When I was on My Strange Addiction, in a way I sort of, unintentionally, became a symbol for female independence and solidarity. My man made me choose him or the puppets. I chose the puppets. I got fan letters from many young women telling me how men mistreated them or how they escaped the throws of an abusive relationship.

As a result I chose to take the activist route. My mother told me it wasn’t the thing to do, but I feel I have a bigger duty to young women.

As a result I have been called names like: man basher, dyke, lesbian, man hater, etc. Many of these honorary titles are bestowed by males who have no idea what they are talking about. Just because I speak out against violence when it comes to women doesn’t mean I date other women. It doesn’t mean that I hate men like my father and my brother who are doing the right thing; standing by their families and supporting their very talented and brilliant wives. Just the opposite. I hate men who abuse women whether it is physically, sexually, emotionally, or spiritually.

It’s funny to me when these Einsteins start speaking. I want to tell them that they are taking it personally if I am not referring to them. When I speak of men who lie, cheat, and abuse I don’t speak of all men. I have never once said that. Yet I am bound and gagged by these fools constantly having to defend myself against the patriarchy.

Recently, I have gotten opportunities to do activism; to tell my story about being in an abusive relationship. Sometimes it is hard to go back to that place. Actually, it always is. There’s nothing like remembering how a man called you names, how you were a doormat, and how he wantonly cheated on you. Then when I defended myself against him and his cohorts, all of whom had something to say about me, I was a “man hater.” Or I was considered less than because I was a woman, and it was no speaking unless spoken to.

Perhaps this is why I lash out against the patriarchy the way I do. Perhaps it is because I have been bullied, and I am not a fan of bullying in any way. As a result, whenever I see certain attitudes prevalent in men and I hear an expression like, “boys will be boys,” it sickens me. It not only cheapens their gender, but also makes way for a societal double standard that paves the way for feminine embarrassment and abuse. It’s the language we use in our culture, the attitudes, that gives the okay for things like dating violence. While as a whole we do not condone this behavior, we enable it with song lyrics like, “Smack up my bitch.”

Then there are jokes where the punchline is hitting a woman. Whenever I get testy there are male comedians who say that it’s a joke and tell me to “calm down.” The truth is, it’s not a joke when you have been on the receiving end. And as a society we should not calm down. There are plenty of other things that are funny. Abuse of women is not funny. While it might be ha ha at the club, it okays a disgusting behavioral standard that should never be allowed.

Until recently, there were no real laws protecting stalking victims. Even worse, in the mid-twentieth century, whenever the wife called the cops on a husband who was beating her they usually let it go. Legislation in these departments have come a long way. Unfortunately, as a society we forget all too quickly.

In a way I am glad I went through what I did with the ex. Sure I don’t trust or love as easily, but I am smart and can spot a bully and an abusive male with laser vision. I can also spot a man who has a view of women as inferior, and has a complex and therefore will treat them badly. In addition, while having someone in your life is nice, I know it’s far from the end of the world if I don’t have anyone. I know in the end not to depend on a man but rather to depend on myself. This goes for anyone, male or female.

A lot of women break their necks to get married and have children only to divorce anyway. I don’t feel that need to answer to a power structure that pins it on me if it doesn’t work out. I don’t feel the need to conform to some standard, that when lovely is very lovely, but when terrible is nothing but societal imprisonment. I don’t feel the need to yes some man because I don’t want him to leave. I don’t feel the need to serve an outdated model that has made so many feel so unhappy because they felt this is what they needed to do, this is where they needed to be, and this was how they were forced to live.

If you have someone, great.

If not, no biggie. Life goes on. I know from experience I would rather die alone with my puppets than be with a man who takes them away, makes me feel like crap, occasionally hits me, and promises to kill his mother in order to get the insurance money to be with me. All the while making me support him.

While I have made my way into the world as a standup, I find that a boys club where they are as thick as thieves. Once I was told by a male booker that being a woman and looking the way I did would work against me. Then I was basically told by other male bookers that talking about my breakup with my ex in a comedic way made me look bitter. Meanwhile, the routine is about my ex trying to make a comeback, one, and me rejecting him. Second, my so called bitterness is more about me taking my hits onstage like a man instead of laying down like a woman which would be oh so easy for them. Maybe they didn’t like it, but the fans, male and female, do.

I guess my mission is that I want to be the next feminist icon. Perhaps I will be more Wonder Woman and less Gloria Steinem. (But our dear Glo was a Playboy Bunny, ya know). But I want to be that force that makes it safe for young people, especially young women. While I do not exclude young women from my mission statement I am more familiar with being a young woman, because that is my gender identity.

If wanting to smash a double standard that keeps so many down-male and female-makes me a femanazi, I will gladly wear that crown.

If wanting young women to stand up against men that prey on them makes me a femanazi-put that on my vanity plate.

If wanting young women to know that they are worth something makes me a femanazi-I think I will get that tattooed on my bicep.

Love,

April

Words From A Rusty Vagina

Last night I found myself in Long Island City. Before my journey there I had delivered a Hershey Kiss telegram to a fourteen year old girl and her friends who thought I was the greatest thing in the world. It was actually awesome walking the streets and seeing the tulips in bloom. These days I am content where I am. It’s quite odd and insane, for now.

This past week I did an interview in fIXE, a fetish lifestyle magazine. Bondage scares me, but I liked Cary Monotreme and Margaret Cho had appeared in the magazine before me. I also did an interview for Alt Variety, a popular underground website. The interview questions were insane but I think it will turn out funny. I also am now a regular cast member on the Richard Crawdaddy Show. This past week May Wilson was caught having phone sex with Richard and Melissa Gorgia was interviewed. Next week it is Vanilla Ice. To top it off, Panic Girl, a job I got through my so called “man hate,” has been sketched and is set to go up next week.

So excited.

Of course before all this I talked to my parents, both in Nashville for a wedding, and they went to a country western museum. My dad is now convinced I should write a country song. I think I will. Men have burned me and ruined me enough that I have thought about shooting a few and hiding the bodies. Perhaps that will be my theme.

Anyway, back to Long Island City. When I got off the train I saw my friend Joe Dalby’s old apartment building. He is now in Florida. I remember having Monday night potluck with my boys there. Casey and Spring, parakeets in charge, would be squawking up a storm. Casey had a foot fetish, and would often bite my feet whenever I spent the night on Joe’s couch. Joe was like my gay uncle. We talked about life, we gossiped, he cooked for me, and we watched the gayest movies ever. With Joe around it seemed like it made up for the fact that I always felt like a failure when it came to men or career. But in 2010 I started to feel different.

I remember Joe cooked the best steaks. He also cooked burgers that were so good I didn’t care they were medium rare. We would then gossip on the phone with other people about other people. I felt so protected under Joe’s roof. I was shielded from the beauty standard of the straight, hederosexual world where they only wanted big tits and an ample ass. I have an ample ass depending on the time of the month and the diet, but never big tits. We would giggle about the boys we liked and damn the men who hurt us. There were a lot of those in both our lives.

While we both agreed men do lie, Joe did get me to cut them a little bit of a break.

When I passed Joe’s house I saw Cranky’s. I had spent a lot of time there in the summer of 2011 doing a kid’s puppet show. By that time Joe had left the neighborhood. The kids loved the show, but the creator had her head up her ass. Everytime she listened to me things went well. Everytime she didn’t things went to shit. Then again, I work with puppets and children extensively, what do I know? At the same time, I remembered the food and the families in the place. At the show there were a lot of alternative families. There were gay parents who brought their children for example. While I am pro-LGBTQ, most of my gay friends are single, and if they are partnered they don’t have kids. Shocked wasn’t the word, but rather pleasantly surprised. They were like any other family, wanting what was best for their children.

I still remember being outside of Cranky’s and the Israeli web tech for a site I was a talking head for pulled up on his motorcycle with his beautiful blonde wife. I didn’t know him but he knew me from my broadcasts. It was the universe telling me in it’s gentle way that I was doing right.

Killing some time in the hood, I walked up the street passed a venue doing a show. I saw some comedians I knew and said hi. One who is well regarded that I had met during one of my TV tapings waved me in. We were friendly, or so I thought. When we got outside as not to disrupt the show he said, “What’s with this man hate? Who hurt you?”

I hardly call being aware of women’s issues man hate. Yes, I come down hard on men, but not all men. I come down on men  who either demean/abuse women or male politicians who want to take rights away from my gender. I hardly think those sentiments are anti-male.

That’s when he proposed we have an affair. My mouth hung open. The brazenness not only took me aback, but rather the fact that his wife is a comedienne too, and a well-respected one. Did he not think that she might find out about this exchange? There were other comedians witness to this conversation. The second she finds out she just isn’t bouncing him from the house, she is going to want my head too!  Having dreamed up this escape from the missus for sometime, he then informed me that if we were to do any fooling around it would have to be at my house because he lives with his wife and small child. Then he told me after my telegram was delivered I could stop by and we could fool around in his car.

I was so mystified I didn’t know what to say. What is it about a woman who is independent and dosen’t take any shit that is an aphrodisiac for men? Is it because I am a “challenge?” Do they want to prove they are the one who is different? I have news for you assholes, none of you are different.

Perhaps I could blame the damage on the ex-fiance but even that would be a stretch. I have always been painfully aware that men can be lying scum. But women lie too. Everyone lies. At the same time, I am grateful for the relationship with the ex-fiance, because I know never to depend on a guy and never to get too disappointed when he screws up. After all, he is just a man. What do I want? I also know never to depend on a man to carry my burdens, physical, emotional, or spiritual. I know never to depend on a man for financial support. I know that I must stand alone. A man is like a bad mule, bound to fail me eventually.

I went to deliver my second singing telegram, a California Raison to a man on this 30^th birthday from his wife. It was a loft walkup. I memorized the Marvin Gaye “Heard It Through The Grapevine” before going up. I called the contact a few times and finally she picked up. The performance went swimmingly, which makes me realize not only do I love my job but I am looking forward to the release of my book, I Came, I Saw, I Sang.

That’s when I decided again that I would not be having that extra-marital affair that I was proposed earlier. I had seen the couple I delivered the telegram to. They were happy, they were healthy. Now who was I to come between two people like that?

What’s even worse is that I have been the other woman. I know how it turns out, despite the presents and the promises you always end up being the bad guy. In this case I would definitely be the bad guy. He would be fine, being a man in the male dominated realm known as standup comedy, where women often get the shaft. His wife would go out of her way to let everyone know I had been the one to wreck her home, even though it was her husband’s idea. I am inching up on the ladder, and in this male dominated realm sex can be used as a weapon. Nothing good can come of this career wise or spirit wise.

That’s when I decided I wouldn’t tell him the answer was no but rather show him by not going back to the club to meet him in the backseat of his car. To think, he didn’t even buy me presents.

For years I have been labeled by bookers and comedians, mainly male, as a man hater because I talk about my nasty breakup with my ex-fiance. I have been called bitter. I have been called a “rusty vagina” because whenever I see mistreatment or abuse of a woman in my vicinity I call it out.  

Believe it or not, many of my fans are male and feel the same way I do, women are not put on this Earth simply to satisfy a man. At the same time, for as many comedians and bookers who want to throw labels on me and make snap judgments, there are many young people who look up to me, male and female. There are many bookers, mainly male, and many comedians, mainly male, who take a chance on me because of my talent, my hardwork, and my fearlessness to be myself. Many of my fans, as I said, are male. Many of my friends, gay and straight, are male. Do these things make me a man hater or painfully aware of the reality that we live in?
Yes, sex is used as a weapon in my industry but it is this way at any job. Now it is your choice whether or not to succumb. You can fuck your way to the middle, but never to the top. I have known many women, sick and tired of the pressures of being kicked aside in favor of those less talented, who have caved in and did sexual favors for stage time. It got them some good spots, maybe even a TV spot or two. But either they didnt have the goods to deliver and eventually their star faded or they pissed off the person they were sleeping with and that person, being higher on the food chain, sought to blackball them. And them, being the woman, was painted as the harlot in this exchange, not the older male horn dog.
In the past I have mused in my blogs about wanting to sleep my way to the top because I knew women doing it. There has even been word on the street that I have done it. For the record, I stopped dating comedians long ago with the exception of my last fling. Truth is, male comedians are happy to date another woman comic when she is lower on the food chain and not doing as well career-wise. But either when her natural talent surpasses his or she gets breaks he doesn't professional and personal jealousy rear their ugly heads. Suddenly, his manhood is being threatened and she must go back to the kitchen and cook. I knew if my last fling went any farther it would be a disaster and he would never be happy for me despite what he said. Men say they will be but never are when it actually happens. That's why none of my boyfriends, no matter what they do, ever know about my career.
I have had a man who tried to take my career away from me. He pretended he was proud of me only to eventually try to silence me, my message, and my voice. I know that my ex-fiance is a sick man, a jealous man. That is why it not only is important that I show the world who I am for my own self-preservation, but to show all young people, male and female, that guess what, be who you are. The world needs original thinkers. And if there is no space for you in the world per se, make one. Even if you have to use a metaphorical bulldozer. 

They need to know that there is someone in this world who does the right thing and doesn’t succumb to the pressures put on them due to their gender. They also need to know that there is someone in this world that stands up for themselves regardless of what others in the so called majority might think.

A female comedian friend of mine pointed out that there has not been a great feminist icon in sometime. There has been Gloria Steinem, Betty Freidan, Ani DiFranco, and maybe it’s my turn next. Maybe I will be the ass kicking type who comes with stilettos, lipstick, puppets, and a want for all to be protected.

According to many men being independent and self-sufficient means that I am the following: rusty vagina, man hater, bitch, feminazi, etc.

If being fair and aware make me such things I will wear those labels regardless of their truth. I just know that at the end of the day, the moonlight guides my path and the trees light meaning that I am doing the right thing.

I’m okay

Love

April

I would have engaged in the extra marital affair sir, but  somethings got in the way. For instance, my fishnets snagged and I am really uncoordinated when it comes to giving moron's lap dances. 

April: But May, he kept telling me he wanted to come to our place to fool around
May: April, no can do. Pinnochio is coming over at seven and besides, where did he get you your presents from? The   Lost and Found like Darren?
April: Actually, he didn't get me any presents. He just wanted me to jump in the backseat of his car and fool around.
May: No presents no affair, you know the rule. And the presents have to be 200 dollars and above. And no 200 dollar presents that he got for free as a result of job perks.
April: You have a really good point. No wonder I keep you around. You are so smart. You aren't just a pain in the ass who turns tricks.
May: And one more thing you schizophrenic with her hand up my ass, when you said his name I didn't know him. There is no way he could ever advance our career. 

This is my job. I look cute. I can get validation  from my talent and my mind,  not  by what some man feels he can gain from using my person like a rag doll.