Hello My Loves,
You're right in assuming that over here in the Masonismymiddlename Home, we love(r) us some Mother's Day. Mother's Day is where it's at. We've got double the motherly trouble in dis house. Since one of the two mothers here possesses a sp(l)it personality (I don't have to tell you which one...) and an affinity for the many great forces of Motherly/Earthly/Womanly spirituality, we've got a hell of a lot of mother-love and motherly love. The house is aglow with motherliness. And just when you thought you couldn't get any more mothers on the Mothership McFadden (house/hold, house/boat), you must take into consideration the mothers of the mothers and the mothers of the mothers of the mothers - as well as the spiritual mothers (i.e., goddess mothers) and the little mothers (i.e., motherly daughters).
Welcome to the House of Motherly Love, where all things motherly and loving (including motherly and loving, and sometimes plain old witchy, things) come into being. Won't you come in (to being)? I really love being a mother, thanks to my daughters. I'm really glad I had daughters, even though I'm quite sure I could, should the situation arise, be a very loving mother to a very motherly s(u)n. And, boy(!) do I love my daughters. Not only do I love them, but I'm happy for them. I think they are most fortunate to have two mothers. Some of you worry that we won't have anything to do on Father's Day. Don't trouble yourselves. We have plenty of anti-patriarchal activities and projects to pursue on Father's Day. For us, Father's Day is just another excuse to celebrate...mothers.
We do have one living father in our family - he is related to me. Bill Mason. We celebrate Bill Mason Day (otherwise known, by two motherly daughters, as Dimpy Day. Kinda like Dingus Day, in fact the comparison could not be more spot on. The man loves his dingus...). We, the Meerkats of the Mo Mo Motherhood, celebrate my dad by trying to get him to embrace his emotional and nurturing side on Father's Day by sending him dozens of long-stem roses, chocolate heart truffles and cherry cordials from the Parkside Candy store, fair trade certified organic loose leaf teas in chamomile and flowery orange pekoe varieties, fake diamond studded gold rings from gumball vending machines and certificates to spas for facials and waxes to take care of his five o'clock shadow and to help him maintain his public status as a high ranking suburban soccer dad. We can throw a Father's Day celebration with the best of 'em.
In fact, in 2020 we'll be opening up a little store on Main Street in Snyder, New York called "Feminist Flair" in which there will be several racks devoted to the unyielding art of gender-bending, womanizing, woman-made, masculinity-challenging and authority-undermining Feminist Favors for Fathers. We anticipate a fast turnover on our very own original Douche Bags - miniature satchels, crafted locally from catttails dyed in Weber's mustard, filled with triple-power juniper-scented emasculating douches. Feminist daughters, we know, have the good sense to know what Dad really needs. We know that Feminist Favors, such as the highly anticipated Power Pops (all-natural cinna-mint candy brains on sticks) and the dream-maker gossamer and lace She-Man boxers and jock-straps in either red or pink (the choice is YOURS...we know you value CHOICE, as do we), will be a hit on golf courses, at dining room tables and in bedrooms all over America. Picture the man in your life licking the Lady Brain to his manly heart's content and coming away with fresh breath. They will sell out fast, kind of like a popular call girl. You might want to place your orders in advance. Send me a PM, and we'll add your name to the long, lonnnng list because YOUR order counts ($$$)!
We're very loyal to our local customers, that's why we're offering you this deal: if you place your order NOW, you can get your very own edible arrangement of white-chocolate golf balls. What is special about our golf balls, you wonder? Well, I'll tell you. Our g-balls are life-like. Indents, grass stains, and all. Oh, and they will not melt in the sun, so Dad (or Hubby) can take them out on the course with him and keep them in his pockets without having to worry about making a mess. We think of ALL of the potential disasters so you don't have to! Speaking of balls (someone has to, though it's never fun for a rock hard feminist who was once one hell of a lipstick-wearing hitter and first-base-feminist), the Racks for Daddy will include an entire shelf devoted (un)just to them (yes, devoted to Balls for Baba). Balls are very important to the long-held, deeply disturbing history of traditional fatherhood, and we're committed to being the daughters to redefine balls for a new age of feminist fathers. You will only hear about this here: we're in the process of testing the explosive golf balls - cracker snap filled golf balls made from recycled plant materials that can be composted in your gardens after they explode (and after Daddy sweeps up the mess and transports it to your doorstep - one that we assume will be decorated in the finest and most up-to-date Feminist Flair available).
If you want one of our exploding balls (not to be confused with Mozart balls from Salzburg, Austria - those are confectionery and will definitely melt and drip all over your father's pristine laser treated legs!), you need to know two things. One, that you must place your order at this VERY moment. And, two, that when you come to pick up your balls in 2020 you will need to come to the front desk to retrieve the key to the Explosive Ball Vault. In order to get to the EBV, you will need a sense of wit and a fierce feminist demeanor that overshadows your wit. You will also need the key, which is kept behind the counter of plagioclase feldspar (moon rock: you'll want to keep that under wraps but just know that we have already invested in an eternal progressive maximum home security system that sends any unwanted intruders, particularly homophobes, straight to the moon...).
If you're still too intimidated to visit the counter or too afraid to purchase an exploding ball from the EB Vault, you still have many other options. We will be housing an assortment of books for borrowing in the basement used book library. The types of books in the Lower Regions of Her Highness will be quite random and many will include Wiccan spells; however, I can almost guarantee there will be a Guide to Ball Exploding - er, um, I mean a Guide to Explosive Balls - somewhere in the collection. Introduce yourself, get familiar with the balls before you make your purchase. We want you to be informed customers because we are committed providing you with the tools for your every experimental and educational whim. We know you like to try new things, even those of you who would never approach one of our balls with a ten-foot pole. If balls scare you, then consider one of our other powerful products. I should also mention that Feminist Flair will also provide services. One of the co-owners, the likely store manager (a-hem, Queen Moi, to reference Miss. Piggy), will be available, behind the mooncounter, to offer you dramatic readings of everything and anything.
Our SM will also provide commentary and editorial remarks on anything you might carry in with you. If what you want is silence, that will cost you a pretty penny. The service of her silence (we call it the Silent Treatment, you've probably never heard of that before...) is a service that costs more than any other service she can provide. Queen Moi's Silent Treatment requires a lot of mental, emotional and physical time and energy (on her part), in fact so much that the One-in-need-of-silence must go through an elaborate interview before the treatment commences, and so it will cost you. How much are you willing to pay? That's up to you, really. We, at FF, don't like to bargain so we'll set up a very clear and accessible pricing guide for you.
To give you an idea: if you want a wee bit of silence, you'll have to trade in a small secret for it. If you want a good deal of silence, you'll have to trade in a weighty secret as well as an honest act of kindness. If you want a whole lot of silence, you'll have to trade in a mother of a secret, a superior act of kindness and tangible moment of vulnerability. If you want complete silence, you will have to trade in your deepest secret, an act of unfathomable kindness, an astounding moment of vulnerability AND you'll have to bow down and kiss the moon stone with your lips. Silence is worth a lot at Feminist Flair, we won't be giving it away for free. You must also consider that at FF we trade. Black-mailing has never been and will never be our policy. Fair-trade only. Under the table and over the table are both allowable. On the books is a must, though, at least until both parties feel that a sense of trust has been established. Because trust matters to us. You can trust us to put feminism first and patriotism last. We play fair in trade, and in other dealings, because we uphold feminist and humanitarian ideals.
It's up to you what you are willing to trade in - we respect you, so we give you the right to choose what's best for you. We want what's best for you, we care about you. Our motto is: Browse First, Buy (or Trade in) Later. We want you to come in and browse. We won't bother you while you're browsing, we'll let you browse on your own. That is, of course, unless you want guidance. We are always happy to help in any way we can. We thrive on helping. We want to make your lives better and more feministastic! We want you to go home with something that will make your life seem less mundane - something that will transform your existence and your relationships in a zany, wicked fashion. So sign your name to the list today, or wait until the store opens up in your neighborhood. Check your failings and bad intentions at the door. If you make it past the sensors (censors) then you know you're good as gold (or Gertrude Stein...). Feminist Flair will be there for you when you need it. Feminist Flair Cares (in Glares and Flares).
At Feminist Flair, we care about the needs of your whole, spiritlogical, biological, zoological or illogical, family - not simply The Patriarch. We care about what YOU, the daughters (and sons) of Patriarchy, think. And, for the benefit of the community, we will have a bulletin board up in the front entrance of the store, The Whore Board, on which your Dark Market Daughter feminist thoughts, findings and ideas will be on display. You will never be disappointed by the Dark Daughter thoughts, scents and sounds in the air at Feminist Flair. Expect that a lot of Flares will go up when Feminist Flair opens her doors.
Until 2020, you'll just have to wait with great anticipation (or trepidation?!). For now, we're a House of Motherly Love celebrating what we do every day - mother. Today we honor ourselves and every mother we've ever known, loved and been loved by - especially Mother Earth, that resilient creature who still, incredibly, withstands the force of man.
Happy Mother's Day, to all of the Earth-mirroring and Earth-made motherly forces in the world. I'd invite you all over for dinner, but we're all out of milk (ba dum bum!). And don't you dare send over the milkMAN or I'll shoo(t) you with my witch's titty of slime green dried milk pellets.
The Dark Daughter. Dark Daughter Thoughts. Perhaps the name of the blog attached to Feminist Flair. If you want in on the Dark Market, become a shareholder NOW.
Yours in Darkness,
Co-operatively Yours,
Mother Mason McFadden
You're right in assuming that over here in the Masonismymiddlename Home, we love(r) us some Mother's Day. Mother's Day is where it's at. We've got double the motherly trouble in dis house. Since one of the two mothers here possesses a sp(l)it personality (I don't have to tell you which one...) and an affinity for the many great forces of Motherly/Earthly/Womanly spirituality, we've got a hell of a lot of mother-love and motherly love. The house is aglow with motherliness. And just when you thought you couldn't get any more mothers on the Mothership McFadden (house/hold, house/boat), you must take into consideration the mothers of the mothers and the mothers of the mothers of the mothers - as well as the spiritual mothers (i.e., goddess mothers) and the little mothers (i.e., motherly daughters).
Welcome to the House of Motherly Love, where all things motherly and loving (including motherly and loving, and sometimes plain old witchy, things) come into being. Won't you come in (to being)? I really love being a mother, thanks to my daughters. I'm really glad I had daughters, even though I'm quite sure I could, should the situation arise, be a very loving mother to a very motherly s(u)n. And, boy(!) do I love my daughters. Not only do I love them, but I'm happy for them. I think they are most fortunate to have two mothers. Some of you worry that we won't have anything to do on Father's Day. Don't trouble yourselves. We have plenty of anti-patriarchal activities and projects to pursue on Father's Day. For us, Father's Day is just another excuse to celebrate...mothers.
We do have one living father in our family - he is related to me. Bill Mason. We celebrate Bill Mason Day (otherwise known, by two motherly daughters, as Dimpy Day. Kinda like Dingus Day, in fact the comparison could not be more spot on. The man loves his dingus...). We, the Meerkats of the Mo Mo Motherhood, celebrate my dad by trying to get him to embrace his emotional and nurturing side on Father's Day by sending him dozens of long-stem roses, chocolate heart truffles and cherry cordials from the Parkside Candy store, fair trade certified organic loose leaf teas in chamomile and flowery orange pekoe varieties, fake diamond studded gold rings from gumball vending machines and certificates to spas for facials and waxes to take care of his five o'clock shadow and to help him maintain his public status as a high ranking suburban soccer dad. We can throw a Father's Day celebration with the best of 'em.
In fact, in 2020 we'll be opening up a little store on Main Street in Snyder, New York called "Feminist Flair" in which there will be several racks devoted to the unyielding art of gender-bending, womanizing, woman-made, masculinity-challenging and authority-undermining Feminist Favors for Fathers. We anticipate a fast turnover on our very own original Douche Bags - miniature satchels, crafted locally from catttails dyed in Weber's mustard, filled with triple-power juniper-scented emasculating douches. Feminist daughters, we know, have the good sense to know what Dad really needs. We know that Feminist Favors, such as the highly anticipated Power Pops (all-natural cinna-mint candy brains on sticks) and the dream-maker gossamer and lace She-Man boxers and jock-straps in either red or pink (the choice is YOURS...we know you value CHOICE, as do we), will be a hit on golf courses, at dining room tables and in bedrooms all over America. Picture the man in your life licking the Lady Brain to his manly heart's content and coming away with fresh breath. They will sell out fast, kind of like a popular call girl. You might want to place your orders in advance. Send me a PM, and we'll add your name to the long, lonnnng list because YOUR order counts ($$$)!
We're very loyal to our local customers, that's why we're offering you this deal: if you place your order NOW, you can get your very own edible arrangement of white-chocolate golf balls. What is special about our golf balls, you wonder? Well, I'll tell you. Our g-balls are life-like. Indents, grass stains, and all. Oh, and they will not melt in the sun, so Dad (or Hubby) can take them out on the course with him and keep them in his pockets without having to worry about making a mess. We think of ALL of the potential disasters so you don't have to! Speaking of balls (someone has to, though it's never fun for a rock hard feminist who was once one hell of a lipstick-wearing hitter and first-base-feminist), the Racks for Daddy will include an entire shelf devoted (un)just to them (yes, devoted to Balls for Baba). Balls are very important to the long-held, deeply disturbing history of traditional fatherhood, and we're committed to being the daughters to redefine balls for a new age of feminist fathers. You will only hear about this here: we're in the process of testing the explosive golf balls - cracker snap filled golf balls made from recycled plant materials that can be composted in your gardens after they explode (and after Daddy sweeps up the mess and transports it to your doorstep - one that we assume will be decorated in the finest and most up-to-date Feminist Flair available).
If you want one of our exploding balls (not to be confused with Mozart balls from Salzburg, Austria - those are confectionery and will definitely melt and drip all over your father's pristine laser treated legs!), you need to know two things. One, that you must place your order at this VERY moment. And, two, that when you come to pick up your balls in 2020 you will need to come to the front desk to retrieve the key to the Explosive Ball Vault. In order to get to the EBV, you will need a sense of wit and a fierce feminist demeanor that overshadows your wit. You will also need the key, which is kept behind the counter of plagioclase feldspar (moon rock: you'll want to keep that under wraps but just know that we have already invested in an eternal progressive maximum home security system that sends any unwanted intruders, particularly homophobes, straight to the moon...).
If you're still too intimidated to visit the counter or too afraid to purchase an exploding ball from the EB Vault, you still have many other options. We will be housing an assortment of books for borrowing in the basement used book library. The types of books in the Lower Regions of Her Highness will be quite random and many will include Wiccan spells; however, I can almost guarantee there will be a Guide to Ball Exploding - er, um, I mean a Guide to Explosive Balls - somewhere in the collection. Introduce yourself, get familiar with the balls before you make your purchase. We want you to be informed customers because we are committed providing you with the tools for your every experimental and educational whim. We know you like to try new things, even those of you who would never approach one of our balls with a ten-foot pole. If balls scare you, then consider one of our other powerful products. I should also mention that Feminist Flair will also provide services. One of the co-owners, the likely store manager (a-hem, Queen Moi, to reference Miss. Piggy), will be available, behind the mooncounter, to offer you dramatic readings of everything and anything.
Our SM will also provide commentary and editorial remarks on anything you might carry in with you. If what you want is silence, that will cost you a pretty penny. The service of her silence (we call it the Silent Treatment, you've probably never heard of that before...) is a service that costs more than any other service she can provide. Queen Moi's Silent Treatment requires a lot of mental, emotional and physical time and energy (on her part), in fact so much that the One-in-need-of-silence must go through an elaborate interview before the treatment commences, and so it will cost you. How much are you willing to pay? That's up to you, really. We, at FF, don't like to bargain so we'll set up a very clear and accessible pricing guide for you.
To give you an idea: if you want a wee bit of silence, you'll have to trade in a small secret for it. If you want a good deal of silence, you'll have to trade in a weighty secret as well as an honest act of kindness. If you want a whole lot of silence, you'll have to trade in a mother of a secret, a superior act of kindness and tangible moment of vulnerability. If you want complete silence, you will have to trade in your deepest secret, an act of unfathomable kindness, an astounding moment of vulnerability AND you'll have to bow down and kiss the moon stone with your lips. Silence is worth a lot at Feminist Flair, we won't be giving it away for free. You must also consider that at FF we trade. Black-mailing has never been and will never be our policy. Fair-trade only. Under the table and over the table are both allowable. On the books is a must, though, at least until both parties feel that a sense of trust has been established. Because trust matters to us. You can trust us to put feminism first and patriotism last. We play fair in trade, and in other dealings, because we uphold feminist and humanitarian ideals.
It's up to you what you are willing to trade in - we respect you, so we give you the right to choose what's best for you. We want what's best for you, we care about you. Our motto is: Browse First, Buy (or Trade in) Later. We want you to come in and browse. We won't bother you while you're browsing, we'll let you browse on your own. That is, of course, unless you want guidance. We are always happy to help in any way we can. We thrive on helping. We want to make your lives better and more feministastic! We want you to go home with something that will make your life seem less mundane - something that will transform your existence and your relationships in a zany, wicked fashion. So sign your name to the list today, or wait until the store opens up in your neighborhood. Check your failings and bad intentions at the door. If you make it past the sensors (censors) then you know you're good as gold (or Gertrude Stein...). Feminist Flair will be there for you when you need it. Feminist Flair Cares (in Glares and Flares).
At Feminist Flair, we care about the needs of your whole, spiritlogical, biological, zoological or illogical, family - not simply The Patriarch. We care about what YOU, the daughters (and sons) of Patriarchy, think. And, for the benefit of the community, we will have a bulletin board up in the front entrance of the store, The Whore Board, on which your Dark Market Daughter feminist thoughts, findings and ideas will be on display. You will never be disappointed by the Dark Daughter thoughts, scents and sounds in the air at Feminist Flair. Expect that a lot of Flares will go up when Feminist Flair opens her doors.
Until 2020, you'll just have to wait with great anticipation (or trepidation?!). For now, we're a House of Motherly Love celebrating what we do every day - mother. Today we honor ourselves and every mother we've ever known, loved and been loved by - especially Mother Earth, that resilient creature who still, incredibly, withstands the force of man.
Happy Mother's Day, to all of the Earth-mirroring and Earth-made motherly forces in the world. I'd invite you all over for dinner, but we're all out of milk (ba dum bum!). And don't you dare send over the milkMAN or I'll shoo(t) you with my witch's titty of slime green dried milk pellets.
The Dark Daughter. Dark Daughter Thoughts. Perhaps the name of the blog attached to Feminist Flair. If you want in on the Dark Market, become a shareholder NOW.
Yours in Darkness,
Co-operatively Yours,
Mother Mason McFadden
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