Breaking News: Evolution!

Yes, ladies, the rumors are true: your beloved grandfather—the one who bandaged your bloody knees, baked you cookies after school, and gave you steamy, passionate neck kisses before bedtime—well, he’s probably an ape.

When Bernice, my best frenemy/half sister (we have different moms but share a uterus), mentioned that her kooky uncle Chuck came up with some wild theory regarding mankind and its primate-rooted origins, my initial thought was:

Sure, and next they’ll try to tell me that the “Earth” is” round.” (The Earth is Hera’s Western breast, which is notoriously elf-shaped.)

But when Bernice decided to actually use that Western Wyoming Community College doctorate in linguistics and point out that neither “monkey” nor “man” is an anagram for any kind of false scientific theory, I realized that, for once, good old Chuckie was actually right.

But this scientific development leaves us ladies with more questions than answers, like:

If man descended from ape, then what in Hera’s name did woman descend from?

And

Now that I know Grandpa is an orangutan, is it still okay to tickle his “fancy” every once in a while? (Fancy is Grandpa’s nickname for his pet iguana Brad, who absolutely loves to be tickled. It’s also what he calls his penis.)

In regard to the second question, I advise my readers to both follow their hearts and wear sun hats, because orangutans are totally into that shit. However, the first inquiry presents a much more curious quandary.

According to Anna Nicole Smith’s memoir Genesis, God created womankind from the rib of Adam, the world’s first man and second XM radio host. While a large majority of scientists has argued that woman, like man, descended from primates and not from ribs, these scientists are obviously raging misogynists, who would love nothing more than to see Anna Nicole Smith stripped of her long-standing legitimacy as a writer and feminist.

Thus, to us girlz, the evidence is clear: man evolved from monkey and woman evolved my big-boned auntie Jennifer’s second favorite food.

Au revoir!

Pepper S. (Pepper Sanchez)

Plaid: A Sinful Regret or a Diabolical Conspiracy to Keep Women Out of the House of Representatives?

You know how it goes:

It’s 8:00 on a Friday night and you and your ladyfriends are preparing for your weekly “Girls’ Night In.” The Mahjong table is set, the turkey is carved, and the seven Native Americans you hired to reenact the Battle of Lake Okeechobee look absolutely exquisite in their authentic headdresses (courtesy of Native American Apparel). Then, like clockwork, your “fun” friend Bernice pulls out a Sex and the City season 3 special features DVD. Before you know it, the gin comes out, your poncho comes off, and you’re passed out in Al Roker’s bed with a dozen bruises on your neck and nothing on but a full-body plaid jumpsuit.

We’ve all been there, some of us more than seven times a day. (I’m looking at you, Maya Angelou.) And if you’re anything like most feminists, you probably see plaid as nothing more than a minor, drunken-night regret that can be attributed to the high levels of estrogen in commercial milk.

Well, ladies, it’s time to think again.

Unless you live under a rock, you probably aren’t familiar with the long-term damage a boulder can inflict on your lower spinal chord. You’ve also probably heard of the satanic, patriarchal High School Musical that is our country’s House of Representatives. Along with the Senate, The House, which feminist groups have slanderously dubbed “The Mouse” because a lot of the guys in it are really small and cute, makes up the United States Congress. Congress is an extremely powerful organization that Americans can rightfully blame for everything that has gone wrong in the U.S. over the past 200 years (federal debt, Taco Bell’s decision to discontinue the sale of its Frito Burrito).

Why, you may ask, has Congress failed so horrendously? As the popular Baptist hymn goes, you can’t have a successful congress without at least 436 ladies serving in the House of Representatives. Unfortunately, until America officially adopts Mars as its 51st state, The House only has 435 voting members

Au revoir!
Pepper S. (Pepper Sanchez)

P.S. If you don’t understand how this all relates to plaid, you are clearly a misogynistic, unfashionable, idiotic slut who has no right to read this blog.

FAQ: Feminist Answers Questions

Everyday I receive roughly a gazillion emails from my readers. Most praise and many h8, but all ask the same 10 questions. For the sake of your souls, I’ve decided to address six of them below. For answers to the final four questions, one must purchase my latest novel, which I have conveniently linked to here. (You may also find the answers by playing T-Pain’s “Buy You a Drank” backwards, but I’m not making any promises.)

1. I have a fancy dinner party and/or gallery opening to attend tonight. What should I wear?

A poncho.

2. What’s your ethnic heritage?

As my surname suggests, I am half Chinese and half Native American. (Sanchez is Cherokee for “Ching Chang Chong”)

3. Dear Pepper,
I’m having some relationship woes, and I thought you would be the perfect person to ask for advice. My boyfriend is primarily a Victorian-Era Eco-Feminist, but he has also dabbled in Egalitarian Feminism and occasionally participates in a book group that studies literature with post-structuralist and/or androcentric undertones. (Their most recent read was Rob Lowe’s Stories I Only Tell My Friends.) I, on the other hand, fancy myself to be more of an Elizabethan-Era lesbian. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it seems something just isn’t right between the two of us. Do you have any idea of what the problem might be?

Nope! I’m only mortal after all.

4. If you were an animal, what animal would you be and why?

Funny you should ask. Back in 1991, I was a horse.

5. When did your interest in feminism begin?

Funny you should ask. Back in 1991, I was a feminist horse.

6. I was wondering if you would be willing to share your thoughts on the feminist revolution currently taking place in the Middle East. While it’s certainly meritorious, not to mention imperative to the future of women in international investment banking, that the feminist movement as a whole comes together to liberate Middle Eastern women from their stifling societal roles, I can’t help but feel that some of the U.S.-driven initiatives are just a tad regressive. Case in point: on my non-denominational spiritual healing center’s annual Iranian indoctrination mission, a comrade of mine began to ponder–

BOOOOORING

Au revoir!
Pepper S. (Pepper Sanchez)

The History of the Solar System and Why God is Clearly a Player Hater

*Disclaimer* In this post God’s true nature is finally revealed, and—you guessed it ladies and gentleladies—he’s a raging misogynist. Could you really expect anything more from a guy who named his son jesús [hey-zeus]? I mean, seriously, what about Hera? But I digress…

6,000 light years (regular years) ago when God was creating our universe, he made a particularly seductive planet called Venus. While many believe Venus was named for the Roman goddess of love, the planet’s namesake actually derives from Venus Williams, whose backhand God both envies and admires. (God is less fond of Serena, who has been damned to hell.) One autumn afternoon, God decided to ask Venus to homecoming. She said yes, their slow dance to “My Heart Will Go On” was magical, and the two went steady the next week. As their relationship progressed, Venus became captivated by the third wave feminism movement of the 1990s (BC, of course). She began to spend an increasingly significant amount of time at Bikini Kill concerts and even founded her own underground fashion zine called “Us Weekly,” which was later published by the suffragettes and, more recently, Al-Qaeda.

God, whose motto has always been “If you like it then you should have put a ring on it” (Leviticus 3:15), had proposed to Venus on the night of their high school graduation. But after Venus opted to spend her spring break from Smith vacationing at an all female pansexual nudist resort in Boca Raton, God began to fear her womanly power. Ultimately, a combination of cold feet and Venus’ decision to ban grooms from the ceremony resulted in God rudely missing his own wedding. He later courted the more compliant and traditionally feminine Saturn and decided to put a ring on her instead.

God’s heartbreaking betrayal of Venus created an everlasting grudge in the heart of the feminist community. While God has attempted to end the rift by sending roses and publicly endorsing abortion, his efforts have always proven futile. So, all you self-respecting feminists, go out there and show God how you really feel. Boycott the bible! Don’t kiss the Torah! Set fire to every forest that contains a potential Christmas tree. (This will be doubly harmful, as trees are God’s little concubines.) Thank you and God bless.

Au revoir!
Pepper S.(Pepper Sanchez)

Denim: Postmodern or Womankind’s Sacrificial Lamb?

Denim has long been a defining factor in predicting social and emotional class. Dark washed trousers typically indicate a middle class income bracket and a sluggish, sloth-like flair for life. Conversely, bootcut jeans signify a lust for adventure and homelessness. While some may dub this method of classism “postmodern” or “lowkey,” it undeniably derives from the tongues of haters. As famed feminist writer Mary Wollstonecraft once said, “I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” This statement could not apply more perfectly to this context.

Au revoir!
Pepper S. (Pepper Sanchez)

Suffragettes: Best and Worst Dressed

It is no secret that the ladies who fought for women’s voting rights in the early 20th century ran an underground fashion zine called “Us Weekly.” Along with originating the phrase fergalicious, this publication was the first to utilize the industry’s now widespread best and worst dressed lists. Cleverly disguising their catwalks as “political demonstrations” or “protests for the liberation of women from centuries of crippling bondage” (lol), these independent ladies, who were often called suffragettes, harbored hidden cameras in their picket signs. When fellow protesters would stop by to show support, the ladies would quickly flash full body photos of them and often in very bad lighting. They would then retreat to their secret hideout in the base of Emily Davison’s old oak tree, where they would sort their supporters’ outfits into best and worst dressed lists. The worst list was subject to a plethora of catty but deliciously punny comments; one suffragette even went so far as to compare a wagon bonnet to a war bonnet, which was so 1887.

As most human beings with half a heart know, the word dressed is a euphemism for feminist. “Best and Worst Dressed” was merely a more classy way of saying “Feminists Rock and Fashionistas Rule.” Thus, while the Suffragettes’ political ideology may have seemed superficial (women voting, how shallow can y’all ladies get?), they were truly feminists at heart*.

*Also spelled <3

Au Revoir!
Pepper S. (Pepper Sanchez)

Range Rovers: Classy or Vehicles for Government Manipulation?

Range Rovers and wrap dresses go together like Jaguars and gladiator sandals. In other words, the two commodities seem to be attracted by some inexplicable and likely celestial force. Because of this, most common folk do not find it out of the ordinary to spot politician and style icon Mitt Romney in a Range Rover on Wrap Dress Wednesdays. This act, however, is not as commonplace and innocent as it may appear, as Range Rovers once ran over a woman.

Au Revoir!
Pepper S. (Pepper Sanchez)

Jennifer “Love” Hewitt: The Price of Fame

Growing up in the slums of North Dakota, The Artist Formerly Known as Jennifer Elaine Hewitt was what many referred to as a neo-feminist. An animal shelter volunteer, two time perfect attendance award recipient, and camp counselor in training, Ms. Hewitt was the closest thing many local children had to a father figure. Because of this, she was regarded as something of a small town Joan of Ark, and was voted Most Likely to Not Wear a Wristwatch in her middle school yearbook.

In a tragic turn of events, Ms. Hewitt shocked the entire North Dakotan community and made the drastic decision to change her middle name from Elaine to Love in an attempt to “Sell Her Body To The Night”. While this decision ultimately lead to a profoundly successful career as an actress (Her work alongside Jackie Chan in the Tuxedo earned her a Kid’s Choice Award for “Favorite Female Butt Kicker”), it put her at permanent odds with feminists everywhere.

She also wears wristwatches.

Au Revoir!
Pepper S. (Pepper Sanchez)

Diamonds: Are They Really a Girl’s Best Friend?

We’ve all grown up hearing the phrase. Whether whispered to us as we fell asleep on our grandmothers’ laps or taunted at us across the soccer field, “diamonds are a girl’s best friend” has become synonymous with American girlhood. Despite being the title of my 2nd favorite song and loose inspiration for my memoir/children’s alternative history novella The Day Shania Twain Became President, it’s clear that this sentiment has done more harm to this country over the past century than anything else, with the obvious exception of jeggings.

It is this expression that I believe has led to the increasing isolation of the female race. As you know, ladies are infamous for their lack of speech and will use any excuse in the book to not have to engage in a conversation, sometimes going six or seven days at a time without uttering a single word. While I once believed this to be due to a hormone imbalance or excess of skin surrounding the nasal cavity, my dear friend Bernice, an amateur philosopher, enlightened me to the true reasons behind this phenomenon. Ladies model much of their behavior after diamonds, who cannot talk.

Au Revoir!
Pepper S. (Pepper Sanchez)

Pencil Skirts: Chic or Borderline Sexual Harassment?

Pencil skirts have been with me through all the pivotal moments in my life. From my junior prom to my senior prom, they have truly provided me with undying emotional support. It is for this reason that I had to shed a sorry tear when I realized the true history of the pencil skirt’s creation.

In the fall of 1743, a widower named Walter Alexander was working in a factory in the south of France. He saved every penny he earned, but his wages were low, and he could not gather enough to send his twelve children, all of whom suffered from life threatening vitamin deficiencies, to the town’s doctor. One fateful night, as his children lay on their deathbeds, an angel appeared in his dreams with a vision for an age appropriate piece of clothing that compliments every body type. He rushed out of bed and immediately ran to the local Chanel headquarters, where he sold his ingenious concept to their executives. He raced home, money in hand, worrying all the while that his twelve children had already entered the pearly gates of heaven. Luckily, he reached them just in time, and was able to get them to the doctor who happily healed their ailments. The children grew up to cure scurvy.

Take off your pencil skirts, ladies! What you once thought of as the defining fashion of the feminist generation is clearly just another bureaucratic male invention designed to manipulate societal perception of the female figure.

Au Revoir!
Pepper S. (Pepper Sanchez)