The design is obviously aimed at women, but the message (women don't like sex or at least should consider using it as a bribe for trinkets) makes me want to smack someone at International Jewelers.

Also offensive is the etiquette advice on her dress: "Our growing informality has placed women, sometimes, in an awkward position in regard to their clothes. Many times I have been in a smart restaurant and seen a woman dressed in dinner clothes followed by an escort in a sports jacket and sometimes with his hands in his pockets (probably out of embarrassment). Where a man can't or won't dress for an occasion it is bad taste for the woman whom he escorts to be dressed to the hilt."

This appeared in Seattle Metropolitan. Speaking of, have you seen the brand-new Seattle Necropolitan?

The grand dame of all the "Holla" web sites is HollaBack NYC, where women who get harassed on the street can post cell phone photos of their harrassers. From the FAQs:

Q: What exactly is street harassment?

A: Street harassment is a form of sexual harassment that takes place in public spaces. At its core is a power dynamic that constantly reminds historically subordinated groups (women and LGBTQ folks, for example) of their vulnerability to assault in public spaces. Further, it reinforces the ubiquitous sexual objectification of these groups in everyday life.

At HollaBackNYC, we believe that what specifically counts as street harassment is determined by those who experience it. While there is always the classic, "Hey baby, nice tits" there are many other forms that go unnoted. If you feel like you have been harassed, HOLLA BACK!

Question: Isn’t street harassment the price you pay for living in a city?
Answer: No, local taxes are the price you pay for living in a city. We would love to see some portion of our local taxes go towards preventing street harassment, but alas, they don’t.

Question: If you show off your boobage, shouldn’t you expect some compliments?
Answer: Sure, expect them, but don’t accept them! Just because it happens doesn’t mean it’s okay. A compliment is not a compliment if it makes the recipient feel bad.

Their motto: "If you can't slap 'em, snap 'em!" NICE.

One of the coolest things about being a lady is that you get to be hella pretty. And one of the coolest things about being a gentleman is that, when you see a lady who is hella pretty, you get to tell her about your boner.

Such unsolicited boner information is the subject of newborn blog Let Me Holler at You.

For example, I fondly look back on the time when, at a Salsa club in Los Angeles, a gentleman with a handlebar mustache and a shiny purple suit called out to me: "You make a ole man cry!" Um, okay, I thought. Not a bad holler, if holler he must. He beckoned me closer and whispered, "You give me a hard-on!"

Or, while walking across a parking lot wearing a polka-dotted dress, I was the grateful recipient of this holler: "If she move those polka-dots any further away from me, I'mma be BOOBATIZED till mornin'!"

Or the time when my sister, innocently strolling the streets of San Francisco, passed a hobo lying in a doorway. "What's up with your pee-hole, baaaaaby?" asked the inquisitive hobo.

Okay.
Dear Gentlemen:
Why must I know about the situation in your underpants? What the fuck is "boobatized"? What is up with my sister's pee-hole? AND WHY DO YOU JUST GET TO HOLLER WHATEVER YOU WANT IN A LADY'S FACE?

From Let Me Holler at You's mission statement:

Sometimes, as ladies, we are doing nothing more than minding our own business when a passing stranger will comment on the size of our asses, the voluptuousness of our boobz.

I invite you all to share with me your tales of woe, whether in regards to a dude leaning out of his car at you, a hobo peeking out from behind a dumpster at you, or even a stranger on a bike inquiring as to the whereabouts of your "man" when, in fact, your man is standing right next to you at the time.

Please submit all entries to: letmeholleratyou@gmail.com. International submissions will be accepted!

So, ladies! Share your holler-related lady woes at Let Me Holler at You. So far, you can enjoy such submissions as "You don't gotta get up, I'm just taking a piss," and "There's gotta be a whole lotta pussy behind that ass!"

Do it for me. Do it for you. Do it for LADY JUSTICE!

I've been busy working on the news section all day, and I haven't had much time to Slog. However—in lieu of my usual angry-feminist post about sexy, sexy kitten/witch/fairy/trash collector costumes for women—I wanted to share with readers this awesome faux commercial, which parodies everything I've ever said about women's Halloween costumes, and then some. (Get your hot angry feminist Halloween action over here.)

P.S. Although my favorite costume in this bunch is obviously "sexy 1900s steel conglomerate tycoon," closely followed by "a frog," I'm hoping someone will come up with a "sexy feminist" cartoon. Sexy Mary Wollstonecraft? Sexy Susan Faludi? The possibilities are endless.