Somebody pussycat get away ...

SO, IT’S now public knowledge that Donald J. Trump had no problem uttering the P-word in an allmale conversation 10 years ago.

OMG! Women everywhere, but especially in Jamaica, swarmed social media with expressions of shock, awe and disgust. It’s as if they had finally realised, via a decade-old conversation with pal Billy Bush, that the man they insisted from the outset was a racist misogynist was, in reality, a RACIST MISOGYNIST!

YES! Surely we can now have him removed from the ballot because we women can’t trust the American electorate to view and assess the tape for itself. TRUMP MUST GO!

Yawn. Look here, ladies, I’ve some bad news for you. That tape, as offensive as it may seem to you, was not meant for your ears. That conversation, or worse, takes place daily among all-male friends. Crude references to women are exactly what Trump has called them, namely, “locker-room talk”. Ladies, men that YOU KNOW and believe are decent, upstanding respecters of women participate in these conversations regularly.

Somebody (kitty) cat get away and it causing havoc.

Somebody (kitty) cat get away and it running amok.

Somebody (kitty) cat get away and it behaving bad.

Somebody (kitty) cat get away and it driving dem mad.

In these conversations, there’s always a Donald Trump, who must compensate for his ‘small hands’ and lack of intellectual or other prowess with graphic boasting of his real or imagined sexual conquests. By and large, the rest of the crew nod sagely, chuckle at appropriate moments and congratulate the storyteller on being ‘The Man’. Not one has the courage of his convictions to reprimand the conversation leader for fear of being labelled a wet blanket. Then they go home and, when their wives complain bitterly about Trump’s use of the Pword, guess what? They nod sagely, feign gagging sounds at the appropriate moments and condemn Trump for his disgusting disrespect. Meanwhile, the American husbands among them are thinking, ‘I gotta vote for THAT guy!’

When I was younger and used to get out more, I was a member of a regular Friday evening allmale congregation where food, drink and conversation flowed freely. Some of the tales some of those men (all married; some now deceased) would tell make Trump’s boorish boasts sound like giggly girl talk.

The worst I’ve heard came from a married man I’d just met. He reported on his recent encounter with a lady (NOT his wife) doing a job for him Hurricane Matthew should’ve done. “Mek I tell you,” he enthused (toned down for a family newspaper), “is de bes’ mi eva get. Me neva (finish) from dat alone yet, but she nearly cause dat. Afterwards, mi tell her, ‘Honey, yu nearly get di medal!’”

“They want me to hold It down (get di cat)

You must hold it down (get di cat)

Hold it down (Get di cat) ...

Attack it from fi front!

Attack it from di back!

(Repeat four times)”

So, ladies, stop feigning cataclysmic shock. Despite Trump’s denials, this is him and it has been him all along.

EASTER WINE

I’m amused by the flocking of Jamaican women to Twitter to condemn Trump-Bush’s buddy chat. These are the same women I see jumping and wining every Easter past my gate to as-blatantly-misogynistic-ashumanly-possible songs like Kitty Cat by Square One, and which encourages EXACTLY the same activity Donald Trump was recommending. Go to https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=clsi6xghCYc to see how women of all ages react to that song.

Women I forgive, but I’m livid when asshats like Jeb Bush tweet: “As the grandfather of two precious girls, I find that no apology can excuse away Donald Trump’s reprehensible comments degrading women.” Seriously, Jeb? You who stole an election by rigging Florida ballots for your brother, who Margie Schoedinger, a 38-year-old black woman, sued in 2002 claiming that, during 2000, ‘W’ was guilty of “racebased harassment and individual sex crimes ... against her and her husband”? Less than a year after suing, Schoedinger died from what police described as a selfinflicted gunshot wound to the head.

YOU, Jeb? Whose father once made a joke in Bill Clinton’s company calling a pro-choice activist “the ugliest woman” he’d ever seen; behaved patronisingly during a debate with Geraldine Ferraro; and as president, vetoed the 1990 Civil Rights Act? Where were your precious granddaughters then.

By the way, girls, don’t think I don’t know the sordid details of your female-only conversations about men held wherever women gather on a daily basis. I see you!

Peace and love.