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Tits in the Pit: “Why Do You Mosh?”

If I had a DICK would you ask me that?

“Why do you mosh?” “You’re too pretty to mosh!” “You’re so brave!” …shut the fuck up.

We can push a tiny human out of a stretched hole in our bodies but we can’t take an elbow? Fuck OFF! (LMAO) This is for all the female metalheads who just want to be left the hell alone while they do their thing in the pit.

I’m here like everyone else for the same reason — I want to fuck shit up. I want to GET fucked up. I’m working some shit out to the music. I want to know (not THINK)… KNOW that I can handle anything that’s thrown at me — LITERALLY. And sometimes, I’m just dancing having a good time. I’ve been in the pits for a bit and I have to say, “fuck off and let me mosh already.” Stop STOPPING me to congratulate me on being a badass. I KNOW I AM. SHUT UP AND MOSH.

I’ve had a few cases happen RECENTLY at Aftershock Festival in my hometown of Sacramento (916!!! Whoop! Whoop!) and… it was kind of annoying, not to mention DANGEROUS. You can’t STOP someone in a circle pit to talk.

Let me write this shit again…

YOU CANNOT. STOP SOMEONE. IN A CIRCLE PIT. TO FUCKING TALK.

This is how people get hurt, and not in the fun way. A few people fell behind me cause this guy wanted to “talk”, like I can hear him and carry on a full blown conversation… or even WANT to. We’re mid-Slipknot here. What… are you doing? HIT ME, ASSHOLE!

Another instance was during Rob Zombie’s set. Some dude wiggled his way next to me on the outer rim of the pit while I was waiting for the right song. He’s looking at me, I’m giving everyone who runs by my classic “stonewall shoulder” bump. Then he stops me to say, “you’re so brave!”, then tries to give me a high five. The fuck? How am I brave for standing here? First off, if you knew anything about women, you’d know we have a higher tolerance for pain. So, maybe YOU’RE the “brave” one. And shove that “high five” up your ass. I’m not parking. Your “validation” means nothing.

I’ve been asked by way, way… WAAAAY too many dudes why I run for the pit. Why do YOU? Why do you feel the need to ask? This isn’t really a good time to talk. I paid my money to thrash to the music, not talk to you about why I paid my money to thrash to the fucking music.

This is a mixture of two things: a classic case of “men not knowing how, where, or when to talk to women” and internalized sexism.

You think I’m too weak for a moshpit because I have a vagina. PERIOD (ha!). That’s it right there. And I’ve got news (and elbows) for anyone who meets me in the pit. Ask anyone. Ask the people who were dancing in the Tool pit that I started. Or the Manson pit that I doubled in size cause I broke up (flailed and pushed into) the random crowd between two medium sized pits. And I wasn’t the only badass with a vagina either.

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Case in point: my Metal Sister + Pit Buddy Naomi aka The Pit Queen. I don’t even KNOW how many times I’ve seen her knock a dude flat on his ass in the pit. We’ve been in the pits together for like three years now, and we always meet other badass women in there too.

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Another case in point: Random chick I met (saw was bleeding so I ran over with my camera) at Warped Tour in 2017. She had broken her nose in the moshpit “again”. Her friends were fussing over her, trying to get her napkins for the blood. She was just too cool and said, “I do this every year.” “You break your nose every year?!” “Yeah!” *poses for photo*

You’ve got women all wrong, and you need to deal with your not-so-subtle misogyny, shut the fuck up, and let us mosh in peace (full blown rage).

 

Email me your comments, questions, angry male bullshit to:  MFKNZINE@GMAIL.COM

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