Brief thoughts on the Cavalier Daily sexism uproar
So, for now I will simply take a cue from Libby Engel. As a heterosexual male feminist, a recent UVA alumni who majored in English and has lived in Charlottesville his whole life, wore khakis, black shirt jackets and a brown fedora on campus (while listening to Imogen Heap, NIN, Tool, The Decemberists, The Rolling Stones, Tom Waits, Charles Mingus and The National on my i-Pod), used Old Spice deodorant, drank either iced coffee black or frozen mint-mochas from Green Berries, hung out in the libraries (which had plenty of women occupying them), kept a Salvador Dali painting on my wall, sucked at math, probably couldn't direct you to the Commerce School, never went to a single game while attending... other than once to women's basketball, and was never, ever, ever anyone's "bro" (preferring to be friends with people that would not refer to me as their "bro" instead), I call bullshit. Bull-shit. B-u-l-l-s-h-i-t. Bullshit.
(And yes, despite my frequent neglect of spelling and grammar in the blogsphere, I really am an English major... and graduated with distinction to boot!)
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