>My friend Dianne, who is a muralist, is staying with me this week while she paints two kids' rooms in Tribeca.* Dianne reads D Listed. They had this completely fucking insane rant embedded on their site (warning: it is totally offensively gut bustingly funny in its stupidity):

"Maybe she's just pissed that she can't get a date?" Dianne suggested about 3/4 of the way through the madness.

Vagina Power!

*As a reminder, I met Dianne when we became roommates as snarky NYU undergrads. Due to unfortunate circumstances, we only spent a semester together (maybe that is good or else she may not still talk to me), but we had a great time and got into zesty trouble because people like us should not be allowed to live together. One afternoon, we decided that we should give some sexist guys a taste of their own medicine and decorate the outside of our door with little pictures of men that we cut out from Playgirl and gay porn mags. The thing was, our door directly faced the elevator, so every time the door opened, people got an eyeful. Not that pictures of men holding enormous flaccid cocks while watering flowers are erotic. No, they are hilarious, except to the people who complained that they were offended. Eventually, Steve the Imbecile RA summoned us to his door and demanded that we remove the pictures. I was well aware of why this was a reasonable request, but I hated his ass and told him that I didn't understand what the problem was.

"People are offended by the photos," he said.

"So if anyone complains that they are offended by something, the images have to be removed?" I asked innocently.

"Yes," he said. He was pleased that this was going to be easy.

"Well, the images on your door offend me," I said, gesturing at his photocopied Star Wars pictures. "I think you need to take them down."

"How can this offend you?" He was stunned.

"Well, they are holding light sabers, which depict violence, and I am very sensitive to violence." (If I had been thinking, I could also have pointed out throbbing light sabers are very phallic, and if I can't have big dicks on my door, neither could he.)

"I am not taking them down!"

"Then I am not taking my pictures down. Why do my complaints not merit the same response as other peoples'?"

The conversation went back and forth for a few minutes, with him increasingly frustrated because he knew I was fucking with him but had no idea what to do about it. Eventually, Dianne and I drew little fig leaves and stuck them over the wieners, just as Michaelangelo's naked figures in the Sistine Chapel were censored by the Vatican for a time, except in our case, people could flip up the paper cover-ups and check out the goods if they so dared. Those were fun days. It's a miracle we were not kicked out of the dorm.

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