Jane, I’m a woman in her mid-30s who still attends weekly goth nights at some of the bars in my area. Recently I’ve started to notice a much younger crowd at the clubs I frequent. More and more I find that I have absolutely nothing in common with this new generation of kids. I have a house, a career, responsibilities. I’m not the same person I was way back when. I don’t even dress in all the black clothes and fishnet anymore.
These observations have left me with a bitter taste in my mouth and I’ve begun to wonder: Am I too old to be going out to clubs? I mean, is that chapter of my life over now that I’m well into my 30s? Is there a point where you can become “too old” for the goth club?
Jeffrey Dahmer was an innocent child when he took the life of his first victim; A bright-eyed doe, shot while hunting with his father. It was during these weekend trips that appalling acts of animal cruelty were committed, warping his young psyche to the point of no return. The seeds of ruthlessness which were planted on these bloodthirsty excursions would eventually kindle a desire within the young Dahmer to murder human beings. The result was a lust for sadism that went on to claim the lives of 17 men between the years of 1978 to 1991. More Link
The love shared between a man and a woman is truly a magical, rapturous thing that should always be cherished and preserved. However, there are times when that love can become strained due to many of the pressures and conflicts all couples inevitably face throughout their relationship.
It’s for these reasons we here at Every Woman Weekly feel it’s of the utmost importance to help educate women in the ways they can establish an unbreakable bond with their mate, as well as intensify the love you already share. More Link
“And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you…” Friedrich Nietzsche “Beyond Good and Evil”, Aphorism 146
As a woman there are few things more horrifying than your own genitalia. Hidden, thankfully so, between a cleft in your thighs, this reproductive organ seems to inspire feelings of guilt and inadequacy in its owner.
Since the dawn of time women have done everything in their power to try and forget about the yeasty baby oven as well as the monthly curse associated with being a female. It’s challenging enough for adolescent girls who are trying to come to terms with the reeking orifice between their legs. Once puberty kicks in and their flesh-flower starts belching up copious amounts curdled blood on a monthly basis, it’s enough to induce deep and lasting trauma. More Link
“I woke up in the middle of the night and there were a dozen guys in my parking lot just pounding my car to smithereens”, Adora reported from an undisclosed location. “I hastily packed a few essentials and phoned the police. The men managed to disperse before the police arrived so I had them take me to a relatives house where I have been ever since. I don’t imagine I will be returning to my home anytime in the near future. In fact, I am currently making arrangements to relocate to a different city until all these ridiculous cretins calm down. I mean, they didn’t even care about this guy until he died. Really, it’s just ridiculous. My car is completely destroyed because people have the poor taste to worship some of the worst movies ever made. I mean, whatever.” More Link
A Woman’s Period Is The Most Stressful And Humiliating Time Of The Month
(World) – The vagina. That fleshy butterfly, salted away between a woman’s thighs. There it remains, shrouded in taboo mystery. Concealed. Hidden, and for good reason…
A mere glance at the female reproductive organ makes one cringe in repulsion. Like a perpetually gushing wound, its visage triggers the brain’s panic receptors and induces a “fight or flight” response.
A woman’s face can be an image of heaven. A woman’s genitalia, however, will always be a vision of hell.
As a female, I’m sure you have found the public purchase of feminine hygiene products to be deeply humiliating. Under your arm is the diaper sized package intended to sop up nature’s little monthly curse. The entire store seems to go silent as you take that walk of shame through the checkout stand. Exposed. Raped by the cruel jeers of the clerk and your fellow patrons. All of them projecting the harsh knowledge that soon, those elephant mattresses will be pressed against your profusely bleeding baby cave.
Maybe it would be best for all involved if women-only specialty stores were implemented for the sale and purchase of these shameful items we call “feminine hygiene products”. More Link