Yes, men are trash. It is the truth. Men are indeed trash. Now, don’t come at me with your “Not All Men” bullshit. If you are a man and you think you are not trash, just jog on. However, it doesn’t change the fact that men are trash.

By sharing our experiences, women with online dating profiles already know that men are trash as exemplified by the unsolicited dick pics men send us, the explicit messages telling us what they want to stick in our mouths, invitation to sit on their faces and let them eat us before we’ve even exchanged as much as a Hello, and the creepy ways they inform us just how much they want to fill our holes with their imaginary six inch dicks. Yes, men are trash.

However, occupying a special place of men who are trash are men who catcall. Men who catcall are a physical constant reminder that men are trash.    I have written before about the evils of catcalls and street harassment. Many of us have explained so many times why catcalling is degrading, and a form of sexual assault. Do they listen? No, they don’t. They continue to catcall cos they have dicks and that is what they think with, and it gives them a sense of entitlement to a woman’s body and attention.

I am so tired of being tired of men who won’t let a woman have her own space on the streets. No, they got to come up in our faces and demand that we smile for them. Heaven forbids we don’t entertain their demand, as that would be an excuse for them to get up close in our face and demand to know why we aren’t jumping up for joy when they complimented our big boobs, cute ass or nice legs. Yes, men are trash.

I just moved to Chelmsford Essex and love taking walks to enjoy the beauty of the place. After living in London for many years, I thought I would enjoy the fusion of modern and countryside beauty of Chelmsford by taking walks to appreciate all it offers. But hey, the very reason I dreaded taking walks in London keeps rearing its ugly head again in Chelmsford, Essex. Men who catcall.

I am so tired of hiding away or putting on my headphones to blank out the street noise just to avoid the constant harassment from men who think it is OK to tell me to smile, strangers who shout after me, “Nice Ass” and somehow expect me to turn around, smile with gratitude and say,

Thanks, Kind Sir for noticing, I do squats to get my glutes banging.

Really, men are trash.

Just the other day as I was walking home, some white guys, about four of them, started catcalling me. I ignored them and increased my pace to get away. They had obviously been drinking as some of them were holding beer cans. I hurried away from them but they continued leering at me, commenting on my body with a special focus on my ass and legs. Unfortunately, I had to wait for the traffic light to change, they caught up with me and one of them moved very close to me and practically whispered creepy things into my ears. He was all about how he would love to fuck my ass. While I waited for the traffic light to change, I had to endure listening to these trashy men talk about my body as if I was just an object and not a human being. I quickly crossed the road as soon as I could, and moved far to the other side of the road just to get away from them, even though that was a longer route for me.

It is so sad that as a woman, I am often compelled to bear these harassment in silence, and most times we are the ones who must move out of the way of these bullies, even if it means taking the longer route. Indeed, men are trash.

Just today, on my way to the gym, I had a nasty catcall encounter. I had been having a bad day, in fact it has been bad days for weeks now, so I was really looking forward to working out to let out some steam. There was this black dude on a bike coming towards my direction, he stopped near me and disembarked.  As I walked past him, he looked at me and said in a very creep way-

Hmm, helloooo, looking good.

I couldn’t be bothered to respond, so I kept walking. He got furious and shouted-

I would blast your ass.

Typical man trash. I continued to ignore him and quickly crossed to the other side of the road.

However, guess who came chasing after me on his bike? Yeah, the creepy asshole. This dude had the audacity to get on his bike, chase after me and tried to chastise me for not returning his ‘greetings’. To top it all, he said

I am your African brother and you are feeling too big to talk to me.

I think it was at this point that I lost it. All through his catcalling, insults and chastising, I had tried to keep my cool and just kept walking as we were now on the high street with a few people around. However, everyone has a breaking point, and I think that was mine.

How dare this self-entitled, sexist pig of a man invade my space this way? Is it because he has a dick and felt obliged to tell me how he would blast my ass with it? Somehow, I was supposed to be grateful to him for that ‘compliment’?

I stopped walking, faced this asshole, and belted out in my black angry woman voice-

How dare you harass me on the street. How dare you refer to yourself as my African brother when you’ve just shouted at me how you would blast my ass? How dare you to try to mansplain to me that I was rude for not acknowledging your catcalls? Do you speak to your mothers and sisters in that manner? You are nothing but a fucking sexual harasser and a bully.  

By this time, I was visibly angry, and my voice rose with every word I threw at him. I didn’t know how much of that pent-up anger was in me until I let it all splash out on this creepy asshole.

The guy was visibly shocked. The surprise on its face was priceless. He probably didn’t know I had a voice as I had kept silent all through his talking at me. This time I was the one really in his creepy, perverted face, screaming at him and ready to scratch his eyes out.

He was like, “Whoaaaa, what just happened?”.

Yeah, asshole, what happened was that I got tired of you harassing me, telling me how you want to blast my ass and having the effrontery to chase and chastise me for not acknowledging your creepy, sorry ass existence. Men are trash

And to my utmost surprise, this creepy black dude dared to use race in an attempt to make it look like I was the one in the wrong. He actually said, probably, for the benefit of the white people around-

You are African, this is how we do in Africa.

At that point, I felt like dragging him down from his bike and whoop his silly, creepy arse. He surely needed a beating. However, instead of beating him up, I told him if he thinks harassing a woman on the street is an African thing, he must have been raised by baboons. At this point, he knew I was so angry I could get physical with him right on the high street, and not in the way he would love, so he started moving away from me on his bike. When the coward thought he was a safe distance away, he started screaming inanities at me again.

I would blast your ass and you would come begging for more

You are big headed

You hypocrite

I still don’t understand the “You hypocrite” accusation, but to top the list of the silly things he screamed at me, this black African dude looked back at me from his bike and shouted-

Go back to Africa

At this point, I knew for sure he has no functioning brain., the only thing he thinks with must be his dick. He was just another brainless creepy asshole who couldn’t understand why a woman he didn’t know would be angry at him for saying he wants to blast her ass. And well, at least it was the first time a fellow African screamed at me to go back to Africa on the streets of Britain, just because I wouldn’t let him blast my ass. What a dick!

Funny how this happened right on the high street and the mostly white population of Chelmsford, Essex were busy giving us space. I mean, it was like ‘Erm, two angry black people going at each other, one a visibly upset woman, the other a…well, black man, better give them space’. Race relations continue to baffle and amuse me, but as we are talking sexism, and sexism knows no race, I won’t let myself be distracted by the race interaction, for now.

I wish we had a provision for lodging complaints of such street harassment.

At what point exactly should women report catcalling as sexual harassment?

I walk peacefully on the street and group of guys talk loudly about my body, what they’d like to do with my ass, boobs and vagina, yet I am supposed to just shrug it off and walk on?

A man catcalls and screams at me that after he blast my ass, l will come begging for more.Somehow I am expected to ignore this assault and be ‘adult’ about it?

I have had men hoot at me and throw drinks at me from their cars.

I have had men forcefully invade my space, follow me, demand that I smile and insist I acknowledge their greetings.

Do we ever consider the emotional anguish this cause women all day?

At what point am I allowed to defend myself from this type of street sexual harassment?

Am I just supposed to keep walking on and pretend it is not happening?

Am I supposed to ignore the pain and emotional anguish caused me by these words that seek to demean my very existence as a human being?

Am I expected to bear it all because ‘boys will be boys’?

Men are trash.

For all men who are trash, consider this a warning-

I am tired of being tired of your misogyny.

I am tired of being tired of your sexism.

I am tired of being tired of your catcalls.

I am tired of being tired of your self-entitlement.

I am tired of being tired of having to vacate my space to escape your harassment.

I am tired of being tired of patriarchy.

If you come at me with your catcalls, and dare to invade my space with your creepy face, be ready to have that creepy face of yours meet with my fist or my pepper spray.

It is only fair that if you are eager to tell me how you will blast my ass, I should feel no qualm about blasting your face with my pepper spray.

And while you are writhing in pain, I might as well just take down your pants and pepper spray your useless, good for nothing dick. Maybe then, you will begin to understand and experience just a fraction of the pain your constant street harassment cause women like me. Don’t you dare come at me bro because you might not have a dick left by the time I finish with you. Considering that your dick is the one thing you build your existence around, you will be as good as dead without it.

I warn your again, you creepy, perverted catcallers, you better stay away from me. Don’t come at me, cos I might very well give in to the urge to rid the world of your nasty, creepy existence and believe me, no price would be too high to pay for the pleasure of ridding the world of your perverted, creepy asshole, you man trash.  Yes, men are trash and I might just be pushed to the extent that I would take out trash that invade my space.

 Related Links

Everyday Sexism: Catcalls and Street Harassment