With all of the emphasis on the importance of coming forward about sexual assault lately, I felt the need to write this blog about my own experiences. Sexual assault is not funny and only a truly sick person would joke about such a serious topic, especially in blog form. Knowing that Dr. Ford was brave enough to take the stand and face Brett Kavanaugh like that gave me the final motivational push I needed to tell my story. Seeing her face on TV all day is what jogged my memory about something I’ve been repressing for awhile. In a classic case of bad luck for her, I can no longer hold these debilitating memories in. Ironically, her testimony gave me the courage to finally come forward and reveal that Dr. Christine Blasey Ford sexually assaulted me at a party a few years ago.
As I mentioned before, the encounter happened a few years ago at a party I was at back in high school. I’m not entirely sure when this party was, or where it was for that matter, but those usually very important details somehow shouldn’t matter in this case. I also can’t remember anybody that was there to corroborate what I’m about to tell you, but yet again, that’s not important to this completely factual story I’m about to tell you. So there I was: Dressed in admittedly skimpy clothing and drinking a Smirnoff Ice while dancing the night away. My scandalous choice of attire that night shouldn’t matter however, and if you think it does then you need to stop slut shaming me and read some feminist literature instead. Anyway, I’m sipping my drink and who walks in but Dr. Ford. I thought it was odd seeing as she was older than everybody else at the party, but the 3-4 Smirnoff Ices I’d consumed at that point clouded my questioning nature like a storm of easygoingness. That’s when she walked over to me, shoved her hand down my pants, and started squeezing on my genitals like a stressball. “Nice balls you got there” she said, and although I appreciated her complimenting my testicles, it made me feel uncomfortable. She then farted loudly, inhaled deeply through her nostrils to smell it, and walked away. The confrontation ended there, but the memories will linger on forever.
Phew, talk about a weight off my chest to finally let that all out. As you can clearly see by my story, her actions were unacceptable that night and she deserves to be publicly shamed and lose her job and reputation for it because I said this happened. I know I have no witnesses and can’t remember any basic details such as where and when this happened, but it should still be accepted as fact anyway because #MeToo or something. I know it happened awhile ago but I was busy and I forgot to tell people about it, even my closest friends and family. Anybody that doesn’t believe my vague story is just a gross sexist pig. You should always believe the accuser, even if they have no evidence backing the very serious accusation that they just made against another citizen. With this new “Guilty until proven innocent” philosophy hopefully we can get all these sick bastards off the streets, even if that means letting innocent people suffer from false accusations too. #BelieveMen
PS: If you can’t see the obvious use of sarcasm to point out the hypocrisy of this entire situation, you’re a fucking idiot.