Rape as a word and why you don’t fuck with the IT guys

Well I have been schooled. I give props to the person relaying through my ip. I am impressed. This is what I get for giving the IT boys shit.

My ex is a developer my kids have degrees in computer science I know a thing or two but you just schooled my ass. Like fucking me with my own dick. Much love for that. I almost don’t want to reset the dynamic ip. I won’t actually. Have fun, but remember someone else lives here and all the porn isn’t coming from me.

And that ladies and gentlemen is why you never fuck with the IT guys.

Moving on, people keep asking why I use the word rape instead of sexual assault.
Like is it too harsh for you? Like I should tone it down for who, exactly? Fuck you, you try it then tell me what to call it

Let me be clear: I say rape because that’s what the fuck happened. The man shoved his fist inside me like I was a motherfucking muppet.

Not a “bad experience.” Not “non-consensual sex” (which, by the way, pisses me off because is not a thing that’s just rape with better PR). Not a “gray area.” Not an “encounter” or a “dispute.”
Rape.

That’s not me being dramatic. That’s me using the correct terminology.

Under Nevada law NRS 200.366, sexual assault includes any sexual penetration committed against the will of the victim. Yes, penetration. Yes, without consent. Yes, even if it was someone I knew. Yes, even if I didn’t run out the door. And yes, even if I still loved him afterward. Again it is the muppet part that counts.

Legally? It was rape.
Factually? It was rape.
And emotionally? It was the kind of thing that doesn’t leave your body no matter how many times you shower. Not that I’ve made it to the point when I am not too depressed to shower yet. I still can’t talk myself into the shower but once or twice a week.

The term sexual assault might fly in a courtroom, but out here? In real life? It doesn’t cut it. It’s the court-approved version cleaned up for public consumption. Like calling choking a motherfucker “non-consensual breathing cessation.” Sounds ridiculous, right? That’s how I feel when people flinch at the word rape. Grow up.

We don’t need softer language. We need sharper truth.

I didn’t survive a bad night. I survived being raped—violently, on video, while people stood by and said nothing. I screamed. I begged. I said no. And he did it anyway. Then they all carried on like nothing happened, the bystander effect, which by far is the most abhorrent commentary on sociology I’ve ever personally experienced.

But sure, let’s not make anyone uncomfortable by calling it what it is. Wouldn’t want to disrupt you clutching your pearls whilst sipping mimosas and wearing taupe.

No. I say rape because it is accurate. Because anything less is a favor to my rapist.
And I’m fresh out of favors.

So you can say “sexual assault” if it makes you feel better. But I don’t owe anyone palatability. I’m not here to be gentle and use cherry flavored semantics lube on your virgin ears.

If that word unsettles you?
Good.
It fucking should.