44 Totally Unfuckable Presidents

This piece was originally published on Medium.

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I’m getting married in a couple weeks, and as a part of my journey to find love, I’ve been doing a lot of self-questioning. It’s recently come to my attention that there is yet to be a fuckable President of the United States. I would not fuck them in the White House. I would not fuck them in a blue blouse. I would not fuck a silver fox. I would not let them in my box.

Here’s a list of my sexual opinions:

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1. George Washington — While I respect the hell out of his #childfree lifestyle, I do have to wonder if everything was working alright down there. He never managed to knock Martha up, and it’s not like that bitch was on the pill.

2. John Adams — This guy just doesn’t “get it” when it comes to women. Have you read Abigail’s letters begging him to think about women’s rights when he was about to FORM AN ENTIRE NEW GOVERNMENT, and his condescending, mansplaining replies? I’m getting a rage headache just thinking about them. He defff couldn’t find the clit.

3. Thomas Jefferson — HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Let’s not even start with this tire fire.

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4. James Madison — Straight-up looks like Sam the Eagle from the Muppets. Plus he has a weird, heart-shaped hairline. Frankly, I’d rather fuck the Muppet.

5. James Monroe — He’s the reason we have Florida. NEXT!

6. John Quincy Adams — Not into dudes whose whole life plans are so clearly centered around gaining their fathers’ approval. Take those Daddy issues to the track!

Continue reading “44 Totally Unfuckable Presidents”

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#MyYOLO: I Faced Sexism In a Colonial Village

colonialwoman2I never thought I would be treated differently for my gender in 2014, until I played a character living in 1795. Stephensonville Colony is a restored colonial village where actors bring history to life. I was employed as a character there for the longest six months of my life. Working there, I felt like women’s rights were set back at least 50 years!

As a new drama BFA with a minor in history, I thought Stephensonville would be the perfect place to share my craft and mastery of an old-timey British “ahck-sent” (lol!). It turned out that it was just a ploy for men to control me. From the moment I was hired at Stephensonville, I was told what to wear, where to go, and what to say when a visitor pointed out the fire extinguisher in the stables (”GET OUT”).

Continue reading “#MyYOLO: I Faced Sexism In a Colonial Village”