A few months ago, Amelia and I were talking about rape threats against women who write online. It seems like it happens to feminist writers Zerlina Maxwell, Amanda Hess and Jessica Valenti every day. Amelia asked if any readers have threatened to rape or otherwise harm me. The honest truth is that it only happened once — on Twitter a few years ago. The man had zero followers and had only tweeted a handful of times, all of which were incendiary remarks or threats against other liberals. I didn’t suspect he posed a serious threat to my safety, so I just blocked him. Do I even have to say I’m grateful that this was the one and only time some stranger threatened me?
That one incident isn’t the complete picture, though. A better question to ask in order to illustrate the at-times unsavory experience of being a feminist writer online would be about the kinds of inquiries I get on social media or in my inbox. Nearly every single day, a man emails asking me personal information about my sexuality, for an invitation to a sex party, or straight-up propositions me for sex. Keep reading »
Comedian Ari Teman found no humor in the state of his apartment when he returned after renting it out to a verified user on AirBNB. Tenman claims he left his keys on Friday afternoon with a man named David Carter who said he needed a place his in-laws could stay for a weekend wedding. Tenman went to dinner and when he returned, realizing he had forgotten his luggage, found a sex party in his apartment.
“The worst part of the Internet was right there in my apartment,” Teman told the New York Post. “There were all sorts of [nearly nude, overweight people] walking out of my apartment and people coming in from the back yard. It was a huge mess. [Carter] had a look of horror on his face. He didn’t expect to see me for a few days. He said, ‘They shut us down, man, they’re shutting it down.’ ”
The “it” they were shutting down, Teman later discovered, was an “XXX FREAK FEST.” Specifically, a BBW PANTY RAID PARTY. You can see the NSFW twitter invitation is after the jump. Keep reading »
All of a sudden this weekend, a bunch of friends began passing around the same Business Insider article on Facebook, called “A Beautiful House In Brooklyn Is Secretly Being Used For Upscale Sex Parties” by Megan Rose Dickey.
Uh oh, I thought, having read only the headline .
I immediately knew two things. One, I know the house and parties they’re talking about. Some secret. And two, um, what exactly do you mean by a “beautiful” house is being used for “upscale” sex parties? Keep reading »
When friend had mentioned she’d been to sex parties, I knew I wanted to go, too. Could she bring me along next time, if it wouldn’t be too weird? As it turns out, she would soon be hosting one at her very own house. Sure enough, an invitation came in my email a few days later, sternly worded emphasis on consent.
In preparation, I treated the sex party as if was a date — a group date, of sorts, where I was sure to get laid. So I did what I’d do before a normal date: I shaved the winter fur off my legs, blowdried my mane, and did my eye makeup real fancy. I squeezed into a sequin Forever 21 dress that I first/last wore at a club on my 24th birthday party, then unrolled it off like sausage casing when I realized I couldn’t breathe. I tried on my sweetest LBD and chucked that aside, too, for not being “sexy” enough. I’m supposed to look fuckable at an orgy, right? I’m a slightly overweight feminist WASP with eczema on my ankles. The Victoria’s Secret definition of fuckable isn’t really my look. I settled on jeans, boots, and a gorgeous silk blouse over some pretty lingerie.
Worrying so much about how I looked was a colossal waste of time. Keep reading »
In Eugene, Or., a hotel owner held a decidedly raunchy party in which she told employee attendees to play a game that involved her husband’s penis.
To find out what that sexy game was, and what else happened at the perverted party, read the rest … Keep reading »
The second episode of Secret Diary of a Call Girl aired last night on Showtime, and Belle came out of it as a really endearing character. Basically, she goes to a sex party with a creepy, clingy guy. At the party, she meets and starts hooking up with her favorite author and a couple other people (yes, an orgy). She ditches her date, the guy who paid her to go with him to the party (he’ll get a refund, I’m sure) to go home with the author and his friend. As they’re getting into the car, she gets a bunch of messages from her family saying her sister’s having a baby. She abandons the hot author and the prospect of having an orgy, and goes straight to the hospital wearing her feather-accented outfit. I was really proud of Belle for leaving, even though her sister was pissed that she wasn’t there for the actual birth. Keep reading »