side note:

so, in between the awesomeness that was attending birthdays & unwanted appointments, i got sick. the kind of sick that required a visit to the docs office.

i generally avoid going to the docs a. cos i dont like it there & b.  i prefer to utilise ‘alternative’ means for ‘healing’ that a doc surgery does not supply, but the latter is a whole other story …

anyways, whilst @ the docs, the nurse comes out & calls me into her ‘office’. as i head through the door she reckons, ‘the doc is running late, we’ll do a quick smear test ay?’.

& thats where it all devolved & revolved.

without going into too much of a back story: like my stand on racism, misogyny, sexism, feminism etc etc i preach empowerment cos i believe in empowerment. for me, that means, i own what happens to me – i find out what i need to about a certain situation / item / thing, that i be fucking with, so that any decision made therein in wholly MINE.

this also translates to what i teach / exchange / pass on. if you ask me to do something with / for you, i’ll ask you WHY. not to be rude but to ascertain whether a. you dont know how to do it & want to learn b. you want to hang out, therefore imo, we could do something else … thats like, enjoyable 😂 or c. your a lazy cunt & want me to do it for you. b & c i dont fuck with. i won’t do something FOR you, but i will teach you so you can do it for yourself. thats what i call empowerment. its also what i expect when i ask someone for something … teach me, dont do the condescending twat number on me.

anyway, so back to the nurses office … i’ve declined smear tests for over a year now. due to having pts(d) i decided this was one less thing to be fucking with atm & i will get back to it when I’m ready. considering i know how to take care of my own teke & have been for some time now 🙄 i figured they’d respect that decision, & at least write the bastard on my notes so they dont have to keep repeating the ‘request’. but every time i ring or go in we have the same ‘discussion’.

this time however, with the door wide open so all the waiting area could hear, i said to her when she says, yet again ‘lets do a quick smear’ : ‘No. i’ve told you people that i find it traumatising, on more than one occasion’ … she butts in & says, ‘but its free’ … & i retort, ‘ i know its fucking free cos i put MAORI on the forms, therefore its free, but thats not the point. i’ve repeatedly told you people that i dont want the inside of my twot scrapped by any piece of plastic until i’m good and ready and then i will make the appointment, on my terms, & come and get it done. i was actually going to make that appointment for the end of this year but you can go fuck yourself now … ‘ @ this point she started looking at the ground and shifting unsteadily in her seat, but continued to plug the smear thing, the stats etc … ‘yes, i know the fucking stats, but you are not hearing ME. again i repeat … i find this shit extremely traumatising & you re-engaging in this conversation is also fucking traumatising. can you stop …’

this went on for 5-10 minutes. imo, i’d consider that to be bullying, if i wasn’t who i am. this type of behaviour has the opposite effect on me. i will definitely NOT be doing what you ask if you push me. thats who i am.

her outro was a pathetic apology & getting me to sign a waiver that says if i die of cancer of the cervix its not their fault & to take my name off ‘the list’ that i didn’t put myself on in the first place.

no shit.

the problem with this whole thing, for me, is there is no choice or care its just ass covering fear mongering & i suspect a payday going on. i dont disagree that us women should be getting our shit scrapped and tested … cool. But on MY terms fuckers, not YOURS.

& yes i am fucking impressed with myself.

& that concludes my medical rant for the day 😂😘








kpm ©


turns out:

not many are interested in empowerment.

it would appear they’re more interested in making a cunt dependent.

which i think, is pretty fucking sick really.

kpm ©



Yes, All Men…Until You Prove Differently

A sweet “Amen” to this one!

For More please visit and you can follow the author of this piece: TaLynn Kel whose links are at the bottom of the article.

TaLynn Kel is an Atlanta based, badass black feminist who enjoys liberated thought, especially those of Black women.  She’s also a renegade cosplayer.”


I recently had a paradigm shift. I have decided to limit my collaborations with men. All men – unless they are going to fight for my visibility and recognition.

It sounds weird to say it aloud, but it’s a logical choice. We live in a misogynistic culture that habitually ignores Black women, and I’ve found that this is true with men regardless of race or sexuality. Men are listened to more, acknowledged more, and given credit for activities of which they were a minor part, and they feel entitled to that credit.

Not only do they feel entitled to it, pointing this out leads to accusations of jealousy, excessive ego, and man-hating. I’ve been told it’s not their fault and that I’m misreading the situation. That I’m impatient. That I need to get over myself. They’ve tried to convince me that if I’m not getting recognition for my efforts, maybe…

View original post 837 more words


As we all know, I have issues … tonnes and tonnes of issues. But who hasn’t ay? Maybe those that are in denial; or those that have waded through the muddy waters of self enlightenment and come out the other end to tell their enlightenment story; or maybe those that live a perpetuated lie?

Or maybe I’m just too cynical.

One of my ‘tonnage’ issues.

But recently I’ve become more and more aware of the lack (for want of a better word) of empowerment that we – meaning society and A lot of the individuals living in that society – are willing to Give.

Do tell Me.

Ok. I will.

When I was raising my daughters I did a possibly 40% shit job, 40% blood, sweat and tears and 20% trial and bloody era. But I think thats parenting really. A lot of it is hit and miss.

But 1 basic, which I thought was what every parent did, was try to empower their kids.

By this I mean, not just teach them the stuff you were taught or the stuff you wish you were taught – but teach them; show them how to Live. Teach them practical skills to help themselves as individuals. Teach them that they have a right to certain things because they are human, but that other things are privileges, that not everyone is afforded. Teach them generosity. Teach them boundaries. Teach them basic life skills.

Teach them to pick up their clothes. Teach them to do their own washing. Teach them to put together a basic meal. Teach them the value of nutritious food. Teach them to make decisions based on what is best for them. Teach them to figure out what they believe in. Teach them to develop their own thought processes. Teach them to be considerate of others. Teach them to say No. Teach them routine. Teach them flexibility.

Teach them to trust their instincts.

But for a raft of seemingly daft reasons, theres a shit load of parents who do not, or cannot do this.

One reason, which still rips my ration book, is the ‘I had it hard so I want my kids to have it better than I did’.

Guess what – everyone has it hard to some degree. We lived through it though didn’t we. Ours kids are not being beaten, unfed, neglected or abused. Don’t treat them like porcelain dolls because We had it hard.

Another reasonably fucked up reason, which I still can’t quite grasp, is the parents who think they Own their kids. They want them for their own benefit. Whether thats to make them feel better about themselves or they want someone to control, I’m unsure.

But guess what. You don’t Own your kids. You gave them life and your responsibility is to Empower them to be righteous, skilled, free-thinking, staunch people. Also – it’s definitely not cool to be manipulating another grown human being, to get what you want and because you think They Owe You.

I’ve met a shit tonne of incapable adults over the last few years. Adults that think it’s ok to let someone else to the hard yards that they can reap the benefits from. Adults that think they can lie and get what they want. Adults that can order a pizza but can’t order themselves.

And behind these adults there are parents that did it all for them.

Now I’m not blaming parents at this stage. An adult has the ability to unravel themselves from dysfunction and grow up. It can take a bit of doing, but it’s doable. If your sitting around blaming mummy and daddy for your co-dependence lazy ass, that is a cop out.

Man up. Grow some fucking balls (lady balls if that be the case).

Empower yourself.

Rant over ;)




feminist rumination

I donned myself a feminist many many moons ago … I’ll go into the ‘reasons’ soon.

But I’ve recently become slightly perplexed … yes, perplexed … at the discourse that has become the ‘feminist issue’. And I’ve been pondering on it for a while now. You see, I’m a bright cookie … not too slow ;) … but I’ve been unable to get a handle on what the ‘issue’ re feminism or recent feminist debate, is really all about. As in, what is at the core of this debate.

We’ve got ‘feminists’ verbally bashing other feminists; trans feminists bashing straight feminists. There are the ‘liberal’ fems disputing the nons – and democratic fems (yes, theres apparently such a thing), demoralising the non-dems. And then a conglomerate of fems trying to get a leg over with the ‘males against male bashing’ pro-fems non-fems.

I know right.

What the actual fuck is going on.

So, to my ‘reasons’ for donning, or labelling, myself a feminist. And ‘labelling’ before labelling became a thing; well a tool actually. And I’ll come back to that issue soon as well.

To the reason(s) – To begin with, I’m nearly 45. I issued myself with the feminist label waaaaaayyyy back in 1989, on my way out of christianity and into an abortion clinic. I had just turned 17 and had been immersed in christianity (the pentecostal kind) since I was little – not by choice, but because it was a ‘family’ choice. As you should know, christianity of this particular flavour is full of patriarchal abysmal atrocities, which espouse a womans place is at the feet of her husband, so on and so forth.

Now feminism was not a new thing in 1989, and had seen many many years of ‘radical women’ crawling their way through bra burning sessions and legal wranglings so we had a right to vote – to name but two issues. By 1989, feminism in New Zealand was relegated to Womens Centres and Womens Refuges. It was hairy, loud lesbians coming up with angry paraphrases of anti-male rhetoric. Or so the christians were saying.

But on my way out of christianity and all by my little lonesome; at 17; I entered a Womens Refuge Centre the night before my abortion.

Digress: Abortion was a right that these hairy, loud lesbian feminists had also fought for. For the freedom and safety to choose what We women did with our bodies.

My night of indecision can be read about in a previous post; suffice to say here, I didn’t find any hairy, loud lesbians lining the hallways of the only place that would put me up for the night. Instead I found a handful of volunteer women; passionate about empowering women. Fullstop.

On one of the walls in one of the offices I read a very long poster; which basically unearthed the patriarchal bullshit that had led to women being nothing more than chattels. It challenged this theory and gave women a platform of thought to respond from.

I completely dug it. Completely.

As a woman, and a very young woman then, who had experienced more violence at the hands of men than I cared to mention; I completely dug there being an avenue of discourse and a means of resistance that I had never come across before.

I embraced it and learnt all that I could about this new line of reasoning.

Hence … Me becoming a ‘feminist’.

Does that mean I burnt my bra and stopped shaving my legs? Fuck No. It meant I had an opportunity to learn from other women who had experiences similar to mine, who had fought for their right to justice, who had healed themselves and changed their way of thinking and being and had gone on to help and empower other women, in similar circumstances, do exactly the same thing.

Now to the labelling issue.

Labelling, as a tool, has been used throughout a shittonne of institutions and establishments, to keep certain things and persons out and to keep those ‘In’, elite.

Dress it up however you want; this is the general gist of it.

Within criminology, which is my field; labelling is used to designate a ‘type’; its used to profile a ‘type’ … it is used to keep a nigger down … and out. There is a set of languages used in any ‘realm’ that keeps You separate from Me. It makes me exclusive, because you don’t know what I’m talking about.

Labelling now, is no different.

There aint nothing new in a label. Whatever you are, you are because you think you are. Not because someone else labels you as such.

So, back to feminism.

It occurred to Me today, that the fuckery which has been going on re the feminist debate, isn’t new. But it has become Political.

Who made it political? Probably the politicians.

Has this bullshit been bought into? Hell fuck yeah it has!

Feminism in its essence was a. response, b. resistance, c. empowerment.

Some fuckwitt turned it into a vying for funding, whose right and whose wrong, whose more ‘entitled’ and whose more deserving, fucked up debate.

And now we have all genders and non genders weighing in on a political debate that was originally a moral debate. It was a seeking of truth and justice ‘debate’.

It Was about what is Right and what is Wrong.

It Was about screaming to be heard; being heard and then letting others find their voice also.

So when I state I am a feminist, this is what I am referring too. The 1989 kind. The kind that wanted justice. The kind that wanted the rapes and beatings to Stop. The kind that wanted the freedom to speak anywhere, anytime. The kind that wanted the freedom to choose what she did with her body.

That’s the kind of feminist I am.

To get caught up in a debate that shouldn’t even be a debate, I believe, is just a smoke screen. Designed to keep Us arguing about what is what instead of fighting for what we all deserve.

Justice and empowerment.


kpm ©