I had a not-too-serious cancer of the not-pink kind several years ago, and the last damn thing I want to do is find out what color it is now, and then decorate my world with stuff in that color. Just don't get this whole pink ribbon thing. It's like wearing a table saw necklace after you cut three fingers off.
"You might not like this or care, but it’s very hard to be a man in the publishing world. No one talks about that. My agent: woman. My editor: woman. My publicist: woman."
I just finished marking a stack of Charlotte Bronte and Victorian society essays where it was an important point for the kids to make that Charlotte and her sisters had to originally publish their novels under a male pseudonym because otherwise no one would take them seriously. So, asshole, have you found it necessary to publish AS a woman? No? Then shut up.
If those Wampanoags had known of the subsequent trail of events that their hospitality in 1621 would have spawned, I'm betting they would have done things differently.
Komen could be counted on at one point to keep the cynical part of their pinkwashing campaign below the radar. Now, they be like "IDGAF - if we can slather it in pink and sell it, we're good!"
The guy's book is on the best-seller list, he got a nice advance for it and a big publicity push, which is going well except when he opens his mouth ... so the thing that's hard for a man in the publishing world is apparently that he has to be in a room with women who are not there to take dictation or fetch him coffee.
Sadly, my proposal to the Association of American Publishers to require that all book jackets be pink has met with limited enthusiasm.
I still remember fondly the marketing tag line for a cigarette called Eve, which had little flowers around the filter: "There's a Little Bit of Eve in Every Woman." That was in the 1970s, when cancer rates among women were beginning to spike.
So sorry!
I had a not-too-serious cancer of the not-pink kind several years ago, and the last damn thing I want to do is find out what color it is now, and then decorate my world with stuff in that color. Just don't get this whole pink ribbon thing. It's like wearing a table saw necklace after you cut three fingers off.
"You might not like this or care, but it’s very hard to be a man in the publishing world. No one talks about that. My agent: woman. My editor: woman. My publicist: woman."
I just finished marking a stack of Charlotte Bronte and Victorian society essays where it was an important point for the kids to make that Charlotte and her sisters had to originally publish their novels under a male pseudonym because otherwise no one would take them seriously. So, asshole, have you found it necessary to publish AS a woman? No? Then shut up.
Baker Hughes: Doing our part to provide sufficient sample sizes to find a cure.
If those Wampanoags had known of the subsequent trail of events that their hospitality in 1621 would have spawned, I'm betting they would have done things differently.
Pink drill bits, vagina dentata. Coincidence? I think not!
And maybe they should use them on people with <i>pink</i> skin for a change.
Pink drill bit sounds dirty and it isn&#039;t YET defined in the Urban Dictionary.
Komen could be counted on at one point to keep the cynical part of their pinkwashing campaign below the radar. Now, they be like &quot;IDGAF - if we can slather it in pink and sell it, we&#039;re good!&quot;
Awesome response.
The guy&#039;s book is on the best-seller list, he got a nice advance for it and a big publicity push, which is going well except when he opens his mouth ... so the thing that&#039;s hard for a man in the publishing world is apparently that he has to be in a room with women who are not there to take dictation or fetch him coffee.
Sadly, my proposal to the Association of American Publishers to require that all book jackets be pink has met with limited enthusiasm.
So, I take it you missed the Glenn Beck special report, &quot;Kudzu: America&#039;s Most Patriotic Plant&quot;?
I still remember fondly the marketing tag line for a cigarette called Eve, which had little flowers around the filter: &quot;There&#039;s a Little Bit of Eve in Every Woman.&quot; That was in the 1970s, when cancer rates among women were beginning to spike.
I read Commiemom&#039;s story ... yes, it *is* nice.