{"id":12611,"date":"2017-10-29T16:20:53","date_gmt":"2017-10-29T23:20:53","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/godammit.com\/?p=12611"},"modified":"2017-10-29T19:28:47","modified_gmt":"2017-10-30T02:28:47","slug":"has-this-happened-to-you-trigger-warning","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/godammit.com\/has-this-happened-to-you-trigger-warning\/","title":{"rendered":"Has This Happened to You? *TRIGGER WARNING"},"content":{"rendered":"

You’re getting ready to go to a Halloween party and you’re going as Axl Rose. You’ve got your bandanna on and a t-shirt and you’re struggling to get your leather pants zipped up.<\/p>\n

They fit okay a couple of years ago when you wore them to a Thanksgiving dinner where you brought a hand-crafted turkey centerpiece made out of Popsicle sticks and colored paper. But now you feel like a bursting leather sausage. So you say, Fuck this, and you go find your other leather pants, the looser ones, but the waist is tight and the rest is too big.<\/p>\n

So now you don’t even want to be Axl. Fuck him and fuck everything. You’re a fat whale with no reason to live. None. You have reached a precipice; you should take your leather pants and jump off it. Or if not a precipice, then a milestone. The one where you turn your back on leather pants and relax in a cotton floral housecoat, your legs mapped with varicose veins and your swollen feel stuffed into slipper socks with the non-skid soles.<\/p>\n

You can go around like that old lady in a (trigger warning!<\/em>) Woody Allen film croaking “I was once a great beauty” to anyone who’ll listen.<\/p>\n

But then you pull yourself together. You have to go to the party. Your partner is going as Slash. You’ve RSVP’d. So you decide to default to (trigger warning!<\/em>) Slutty Axl. As long as you have fishnets you can be Slutty Anything. So you put on the fishnet tights and find the tartan skirt you promised to send to a friend in her 20s because Grandma Schoolgirl is just not your preferred self-image, even for Halloween.<\/p>\n

Now you’ve pulled it out. So to speak. You still feel a little tragic. You had to compromise, and you know that you’re a pregnant-looking orca but at least now you can wear lipstick and mascara, Because Slut. You jab the mascara in your eye but still valiantly walk out the door on time.<\/p>\n

You get to the party and have a drink, feeling your self-hatred fade away like a dream as you behold a girl dressed like Mia<\/a> from Pulp Fiction<\/strong><\/a>, with a bloody nose and a giant syringe sticking out of her chest.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"