Tuesday, October 11, 2016

Buffett Calls Trump’s Bluff and Releases His Tax Data


Warren E. Buffett is not running for president. But on Monday, Mr. Buffett, the billionaire investor, volunteered more detailed information about his income taxes than Donald J. Trump, the Republican nominee, ever has.

Mr. Buffett released the information after essentially being called out by Mr. Trump during Sunday night’s presidential debate.

Acknowledging for the first time that he had avoided paying federal income taxes for years by claiming nearly a billion dollars in losses in 1995, Mr. Trump then tried to shift attention to his Democratic opponent, Hillary Clinton, accusing some of her wealthy supporters of exploiting tax laws to their own advantage.

“Many of her friends took bigger deductions,” Mr. Trump said. “Warren Buffett took a massive deduction.”

Actually, he did not.

“I have paid federal income tax every year since 1944,” Mr. Buffett wrote in a letter released Monday.

“My 2015 return shows adjusted gross income of $11,563,931,” he revealed. “My deductions totaled $5,477,694.” About two-thirds of those represented charitable contributions, he said. Most of the rest were related to Mr. Buffett’s state income tax payments.

Mr. Buffett, the chairman of Berkshire Hathaway and one of the richest men in the world, went on to say: “My federal income tax for the year was $1,845,557. Returns for previous years are of a similar nature in respect to contributions, deductions and tax rates.”

Last year, Mr. Buffett paid about 16 percent of his reported income in federal income taxes.

“I have copies of all 72 of my returns,” Mr. Buffett added, “and none uses a carry forward,” the provision that allows taxpayers like Mr. Trump to use losses from one year to avoid paying personal federal income taxes both on some previous tax returns and in future years.

Mr. Trump had previously claimed, without producing any evidence, that Mr. Buffett declared $873 million in losses.

As it turns out, the charitable contributions that Mr. Buffett did deduct from his income make up just a tiny portion of the more than $2.85 billion he donated to charity last year, he said. The reason is that the tax code limits the amount that an individual can claim in charitable deductions. Mr. Buffett, 86, has pledged to give most of his $65 billion fortune away.

By contrast, Mr. Trump’s own charitable foundations — and his claims about his personal contributions — have come under scrutiny. Last week the New York attorney general ordered the Donald J. Trump Foundation to stop soliciting donations in the state because it lacked the required registration. And many of the donations that Mr. Trump had publicly boasted of turned out to have come from other people’s pockets, like those who had given money to the Trump Foundation.

Three pages of Mr. Trump’s income tax returns from 1995 obtained by The New York Times show that he claimed $916 million in losses.

Mr. Trump has repeatedly refused to release his federal income tax returns, defying the practice of presidential candidates going back four decades. He and his campaign have offered varying reasons, but the excuse most frequently invoked is that he is under audit by the Internal Revenue Service. The I.R.S. said that an audit does not prevent Mr. Trump from making his returns public.

Mr. Buffett made the same point. “I have been audited by the I.R.S. multiple times and am currently being audited,” he wrote in the letter. “I have no problem in releasing my tax information while under audit. Neither would Mr. Trump — at least he would have no legal problem.”

The Trump campaign had no comment on Mr. Buffett’s letter.

Mr. Buffett’s tax strategies were drawn into the debate when Mr. Trump blamed Mrs. Clinton for not doing more when she was a senator to fix the tax code and close loopholes that favored Wall Street and wealthy campaign donors. Mrs. Clinton, who has pledged to raise taxes on rich Americans, while Mr. Trump’s plans would sharply reduce them, responded that a Republican-controlled Congress had repeatedly blocked such efforts.

Mr. Buffett declined to comment further on his letter. George Soros, another billionaire entrepreneur who has supported the Clinton campaign, was also singled out by Mr. Trump for claiming outsize deductions of $1.5 billion on his taxes. A spokesman for Mr. Soros, Michael Vachon, said he had no comment.

Mr. Buffett has frequently criticized tax laws and loopholes for enabling him to pay a smaller share of his income in taxes than his secretary. The so-called Buffett rule, which has been endorsed by Mrs. Clinton, would require people who earn more than $5 million to pay at least 30 percent of their income in taxes.

Mr. Buffett did concede that his tax payments have, at times, been much smaller. In 1944, he admitted, when he was just 13, “I owed only $7 in tax that year.”

Why The Longer You’ve Been Single, The Better You’ll Be In A Relationship


Relationships are high-stakes these days.

I haven't looked into the numbers, but considering how many relationships the average person has in a lifetime (not counting one-night stands, booty calls and friends with benefits), the probability that things will work out is between 10 and 15 percent. It's probably even less if you factor in the marriages that are failing or very unhappy.

Why are relationships so hard? And why do we enter them if they’re so doomed?

Relationships might have such trouble because people tend to learn by trial and error. We aren’t sure what works, so we’ll date anyone who catches our interest in order to narrow our preferences.

But there has to be more to it than that. Certainly, many happy relationships — ones that should have worked — failed. Maybe the people in them just couldn’t get it together.

Most people would say that “the timing was off.” Oh, timing… you impossible little bastard.

But wanting a relationship isn't the same as being ready for one. Sometimes we aren't emotionally ready to date. Dating after heartbreak, for example, is always difficult.

People believe a relationship should work if both people are in a healthy emotional place in their lives.

And this does make it more doable. But being emotionally ready for a relationship isn't necessarily the same as being mentally ready for it.

One of the main reasons people break up is they’re not mentally prepared. They don't yet fully understand what it is they want and need, nor are they ready to make the necessary sacrifices. You could say they're not mature enough.

How could people prepare to make necessary sacrifices if they don’t even know what they’re sacrificing in the first place? Or, what’s worse, they don’t know what it means to compromise?

There’s really only one way to mentally prepare yourself for becoming a single, functioning, loving unit: You have to know yourself on a deep and intimate level.

Yes, you need to get intimate with yourself. Keep in mind that requires you to spend a lot of time with yourself and no one else. It requires alone time.

And the longer you're single, the better the partner you’ll be in the future.

You need to get to know yourself.

We spend so much time putting on facades for others. We pretend to be people we’re not. And when we try too hard to fit in, we lose ourselves — often without realizing it.

We all change with time, but we don't always grow with time. Sometimes we take a couple of steps backward; we regress and turn into our younger, more immature selves.

It happens. It's okay. The day is not yet over, and you can choose to get yourself back on track.

Once you take some time to be alone and explore who you are — keeping in mind the person you want to be — you'll get to know yourself again.

You'll come to realize what's most important to you. You’ll also learn what’s trivial and disposable in your life.

Don't expect this to be easy. I know it may sound easy, but it's more difficult than you’d think. Old habits often refuse to die, and being alone is the only way to get enough breathing room to do what needs to be done.

You need to be okay with being alone. You have to accept that you are enough.

I understand you want someone in your life. I understand you don't want to feel alone.

I don’t either, and neither does anyone walking this planet.

But you should be happy when you’re by yourself. Your happiness, focus and hunger for life can’t depend on somebody else. I understand that, on some level, this is impossible; most of us gain happiness from having a partner. But you can’t allow someone’s absence to define your life.

You can't look at a life with someone else as better than your life now. Because if that life is better, then the one you're living now must be worse. Right?

But it’s not. It isn't a bad life. It's simply different, and you need to learn to be okay with something different.

Too many people use relationships like Band-Aids, but the blood always seeps through.

We're all a bit bruised, a bit scarred and jaded. Some days are certainly going to be darker. But at the end of the day, your happiness is truly a choice. And a relationship isn’t going to “fix” you.

You choose how you perceive the world. If you realize this and continue to see the world the way you do now, that's on you. But if you force yourself to change, you can. (Keep in mind: I said “force”!)

If you change your reality, you’ll be happy with your life. You’ll be happy with yourself and how you can control your life. And you’ll have something that too many of us lose — hope.

Getting into a relationship before you're emotionally and mentally prepared reduces the chances it will work out.

How can someone else love you when the “you” isn’t your true self? How can you be fully loved when you don’t know what love is?

The longer you're single — the longer you pause to understand yourself and to create your life with your mind’s paintbrush — the more likely your next relationship will be the last one you’ll ever need.

Is Helping Your Man Out Too Much Actually Hurting Your Relationship?

A young man and woman discuss ideas for a potential date and the conversation goes something like this:
Girl: Glad you're enjoying the new cookbook you bought me.
Guy: I am! I'm learning a lot. I think we should make something from it. I'll pick the recipe and get the groceries and bring them over.
Girl: I'll get the groceries. You live far and the grocery store is right around the corner from me.
Guy: *deep sigh*
Girl: What?
Guy: Stop trying to control everything.
Girl: I'm not controlling, just helping. You live far, the grocery store is right here so it's just easier.
Guy: *annoyed tone* No. I didn't ask for help. I can do it. Let me do something.
Girl: *shrinks in confused put in place silence*

Now, if you've got a case of helperitis like I do, you'll see absolutely nothing wrong with my suggestion, but ask your man, father, uncle, male third cousin or a reformed Aibileen, and they’ll see the problem crystal clear. I wish I could say this is the first time this issue has come up in my relationships; hell I wish I could say it was the first time in this one. However, it wasn't until I heard and saw his beyond obvious frustration with my behavior that I realized how bad it was.
By nature, I'm a helper and a planner, and I swear it comes from a good place. If I notice a place where my time and skills can be used, I offer to help. Seems simple to me. In this case he lives two hours and two train rides away. Why should he carry groceries all that way when I can buy them around the corner and have them waiting? This is the very question I asked my friend Christen when I vented to her the next day. Her response? “You're doing too much.” As a reformed member of The Help Squad she pointed out that he knows how far he lives, he knows I could do it….but he didn't ask. He was trying to plan a date for us, he was trying to initiate and lead, and I was coming in and telling him how to do it…and “better.” It never occurred to me that this could be how Mr. Magic and men from my past could’ve heard my offers of assistance.
I always saw myself as making life easier for everyone. If I’m honest, I also do it because I’m so used to doing things myself that I naturally rally and take charge when something needs to be done.  When you’re a single lady, you’re head of operations and anything occurring in your world gets planned and organized by you.  So it can be a little hard to let someone come in and take charge when you’re used to doing it all.  You see it as “helping,” but this ain’t a movie and you’re not an assistant or a maid, and if you’ve got a man’s man you’re definitely not his boss. You’re a partner.  As a woman one of my prayers is to find a man that will lead and take charge so that I don’t have to bear the entire load, then I find one and I “help” him into the passenger seat. When I think of a partnership, I want to be someone he leans on and someone that works alongside my guy to progress each other and our relationship. Clearly my actions have been doing quite the opposite. I want to give him the opportunity to lead (Not into a ditch though because daddy ain’t raise no fool) and be the man he and I both desire him to be.
I’m not going to pretend to know exactly how to fix this mindset; it’s definitely going to take some time. However I have said that this time around, no matter how it ends, I was going to make an effort to stop doing all the things that clearly didn’t work for me before. I want to do better. My first step is that I’ve decided to assist, not help, when asked. It might drive me crazy to know he’s carrying groceries on the subway (silent scream), but instead of focusing on how he’s not doing it my way, I’m going to focus on the fact that he was dope enough to buy a cookbook that I really wanted and took the initiative to plan something sweet, romantic and interactive for us. I’m going to focus on the experience and all the fun we’re going to have. For once in my dating life, I’m going to stop trying to help someone else, and help myself first.

The Best Sign Of A Healthy Relationship Is No Sign Of It On Facebook


The less you hear about a relationship, the better it's going.
As far as I can discern, Facebook is a website you can visit to be frightened and disgusted by your parents' political views. 
It's like a quarantine zone. All the pollutants of humanity are contained in there, so as to protect real life from the worst kind of people. But we all have to log in. Otherwise, we'd never hear from our family again. If everyone left Facebook today, we'd all realize we each only have, like, four actual friends.
I'm pretty sure the only thing to even do on Facebook is hide Candy Crush requests with a gun in your mouth. So yeah, dipping your relationship into that Internet toxic waste dump isn't the most rewarding endeavor.
There are basically two ways relationships appear on Facebook, and they're both bad. First, thecouples that air dirty laundry.
As a reference point, here are the three most cringe-worthy things in the universe:
  1. Donald Trump's Twitter account
  2. The mere existence of Juggalos
  3. Couples bitching about each other on social media.
But that doesn't stop trashy couples from arguing over whatever dumb sh*t on Facebook. Plain and simple, it says you don't give a f*ck about your partner's feelings, about privacy and about your relationship.
You're not a team if you're willing to spar in front of other people like an audience; you're literally combatants. And that doesn't even begin to mention all the passive-aggressive posts. "That feeling when SOMEONE forgot to pick up Arby's on the way home for your birthday — feeling quixotic."
Yes, I know that roast "beef" equals true love, but maybe address it with your partner? All it says is you're looking for external validation for your feelings. You know what a real couple does when something goes wrong? They talk about it and figure out how to keep from hurting each other's feelings in the future.
The second way couples appear on Facebook takes the form of "envy our perfect life" over-sharing couple. Don't be jealous; their Facebook wall is quite literally a façade. It's like they're trying to convince themselves by repetition. Shouldn't a great relationship speak for itself?
Or perhaps it's an unhealthy obsession with their image, rather than the relationship itself.
NFL legend Walter Payton once said, "When you're good at something, you'll tell everyone. When you're great at something, they'll tell you." 
People notice when you're in an amazing relationship. It reflects in your life in so many ways. We all want to shout it from the mountaintops now and then, but how creepy would it be to call every one of your friends and family every day and remind them you still love your partner?
That's what nonstop Facebook posting amounts to.
In short, great relationships are the antithesis of the above couples. They resolve issues without getting innocent bystanders caught in the crossfire. The person they most want to share the joy of their relationship with is each other, not 400 strangers.
They know that there's value in secret little moments that no one else gets to know about. They know that showing your love through a third party lessens its sincerity because when you have an audience, everything feels like a performance.
They don't spend time on Facebook; they spend it with each other.

12 Things About Being A Woman That Women Won't Tell You


Hey, I'm not going to womansplain feminism to the readers of Esquire! That's not happening on my watch! You're sophisticated, 21st century men with a copy of the El Bulli cookbook, a timeless pair of investment brogues and a couple of Joni Mitchell albums — for when you want to sit in your leather armchair, and have a little, noble, necessary man-cry.

You don't need me lecturing you — because you're not hanging out the back of a bus shouting "CLUNGE!" at a bunch of terrified 15-year-old girls. You've got sisters, mothers, lovers — female friends and colleagues — and you've never once gone up to any of them shouting, "Blimey! You don't get many of those to the pahnd!" while honking on their breasts, in the manner of Sid James. You're down with the sisterhood. You've got eyes. You know what's going on out there. You've noted that while society's happy for a famous man to age, and become distinguished, and generally wander around looking like a fucking wizard, the women generally still seem to be 20 years younger, and standing there on the cover of magazines, all like, "Oh! My clothes… they fell off!" EVEN IF IT'S DAME JUDI DENCH.

You know the pay disparity; still 20 per cent less for women in this country, and not a single prosecution, even though it's literally illegal. You know babies come out of vaginas and it fucking stings, and that the vaginas are having a hard time anyway, what with all the waxing they get. (That's £20 a pop, my friend. Every single month. Just to feel normal. It's basically VAT on your minge. Imagine if you had to get your bum-hole stripped every 30 days — lest the mean girls at school corner you on the bus home and go, "I've heard you're like Catweazle down there. Someone who fingered you said it was like diddling a Gonk. Ugh.")

You've seen Amy Schumer's brilliant, edgy sketches on contraception and rape, and laughed along with them. You've called Donald Trump "a twat" for his sexist comments about a female news anchor being on her period. You've watched the whole Caitlyn Jenner trans thing unfold and gone, "You know what — this all seems fair enough. I am down with the trans thing."

So, no. I'm not going to womansplain feminism to you. It's the 21st century and you are, most assuredly, not a dick. You like women being equal to men — which is all that feminism means. Not all the penises being burned in a Penis Bonfire. Just women being equal to men. You are like my friend John, when he talks about dating alpha-women: "Feel intimidated by them? Christ, no. Dating and marrying powerful women is like big game hunting. I fuck tigers and panthers. Not… chihuahuas."

No. You get feminism. You don't need Tits McGee here to take you through it one more time. So, what I am going to do, instead, is tell you 12 things about women that women are usually too embarrassed to tell you themselves. Because I am a chronic over-sharer, and incapable of keeping secrets. I'm like that other Deep Throat. The chatty Watergate one. That's the Deep Throat I am.

1. No mumbling
Like you, we feel a bit embarrassed about saying the word "feminism". It's the same as when you say the word "environment". They both have that slight implication of, "I'm now going to launch into a speech that's basically about what a great person I am".

Unfortunately, in both cases, the entire future of the world does rest on people being able to say those words properly, and not mumbling "femernism", or "envibeoment".

You just have to shut yourself in a cupboard and say them over and over again — "FEMINISM! ENVIRONMENT! FEMINISM! ENVIRONMENT!" — until they feel as normal as saying "pina colada", or "Michael Fassbender". Which are both, when you think about it, much odder-sounding.

2. 'The Man'
So, when women talk about "The Man", we're not talking about you. You're just a man. You're not The Man. Similarly, when we talk about the patriarchy, that's not you, either. You're not the patriarchy. You're just… Patrick. When we're doing those "MEN!" chats, we're just identifying the general locus of the problem, ie, most of the power and influence being held by a small amount of men.

Because remember that patriarchy's bumming you as hard as it's bumming us. We're bulimic, objectified and under-promoted. You, meanwhile, are unable to talk about your feelings lest you get punched in the nuts by "a lad" telling you not to be "a bender". You are unlikely to get custody of your kids, and are three times more likely to commit suicide. Feminism's about sorting all this stuff out. Because it's about equality. Not burning the penises. I can't emphasise enough how much it's not about burning penises. No burnt penises here.

3. Periods
We're still pretty traumatised about our periods, even though we're now 40. Being a woman doesn't make "being a woman" any easier. All that womb-shit is nuts. It's like having an exploding, insane blood-bag of pain up in your business end — nothing really prepares you for when it all kicks off. One day, you're just a kid on your bike. The next, you're suddenly having to wedge a tiny Barbie mattress in your knickers, crying while you watch Bergerac, and eating Nurofen Plus like they're Tic Tacs.

Men, imagine if, some time around your 12th birthday, some manner of viscous liquid — let's say gravy — suddenly appeared in your pants, in the middle of a maths lesson. And then it turned up every month for the next 30 years. You'd be all like "NO!" and "WTF?!?!" and "SRSLY??? THIS????" That's what we're like, too. We're not wise, or in touch with nature, or down with it. We're just people with a whole load more laundry issues than you. Have you ever tried to scrub blood out of a Premier Inn sheet at 6am, using just travel shampoo and your toothbrush? It's one of the defining aspects of being a woman.

4. Abortion
Likewise, imagine accidentally getting pregnant at 16, then having to run past a barrage of anti-abortion protestors outside your local clinic, all holding up pictures of dead foetuses. We're not dealing with this in a special, noble lady-way. We're like, "THIS IS ALREADY A REALLY, REALLY SHIT DAY. I PRESUME YOUR CONCERN FOR THE WELFARE OF CHILDREN EXTENDS INTO A LIFE SPENT VOLUNTEERING IN CARE HOMES, FOSTERING AND DONATING YOUR WAGES TO THE NSPCC — AND DOESN'T SOLELY REST ON HARASSING AND ABUSING TEARFUL, POSSIBLY RAPED WOMEN WHO ARE TRYING TO GET A SAFE, LEGAL MEDICAL PROCEDURE SO THEY DON'T FUCK UP THE REST OF THEIR LIVES."

Here's another thing we're too embarrassed to say: we'd love it if a big bunch of pro-choice men turned up at these clinics, and helped escort the scared women in. That would be some top bro solidarity.

5. Talking
In the last year or so, we saw this study, from America, and it broke our hearts a bit, because it explains so much: in a mixed-gender group, when women talk 25 per cent of the time or less, it's seen as being "equally balanced". And if women talk 25–50 per cent of the time, they're seen as "dominating the conversation".

And we remembered all the times on social media, or in conversations, an angry man has said, "Women are WINNING now. Women are EVERYWHERE. It is MEN who are being silenced", and it all made sense.

6. Fear
We're scared. We don't want to mention it, because it's kind of a bummer, chat-wise, and we'd really like to talk about stuff that makes us happy, like look at our daughters — and we can't help but think, "Which one of us? And when?" We walk down the street at night with our keys clutched between our fingers, as a weapon. We move in packs — because it's safer. We talk to each other for hours on the phone — to share knowledge. But we don't want to go on about it to you, because that would be morbid. We just feel anxious. We're scared. Given the figures, we can't sometimes help but feel we're just… waiting for the bad thing to come. Because that would be a realistic thing to think, and we like to be prepared. Awfully, horribly, fearfully prepared.

7. Tired
We're tired. So, so tired. From the moment we grew our tits, we've been cat-called in the street; commented on by relatives ("Ooooh, she's big-boned"; "Well, you'll be a heart-breaker") as if we weren't standing there in front of them, hearing all this. We've seen our biggest female role-models and icons shamed in the press, over and over: computers hacked and nude pictures released; sex-tapes released. So we know even success, and money, will not protect us from the humiliation of simply being a woman. We know we must have our babies when we're young — the eggs are running out! — but we must also work for less money, as discussed above. So that makes us tired.

This is why, maybe, women can become suddenly furious — why online discussions about feminism suddenly ignite into rage. Tired, scared people are apt to lash out. Anger is just fear, brought to the boil.

8. Wanking
We masturbate as much as you do. One of the few times I have been personally offended was when Martin Amis commented on a column I wrote about female masturbation. "Christ," Amis said, "that's sort of lad's mag talk — sort of more male than male."

Obviously, I am noble enough to recognise that Amis is from an older generation — one whose women, by and large, did not feel comfortable discussing their sexuality in any great detail. But it does seem amazing that a clever, well-travelled man, whose job it is to examine the human condition, and who had a pretty steamy relationship with Germaine Greer at one point, has never realised that women can be just as driven by their desire as men.

I'm gonna be honest with you — for the first five years of my adult life, most of my decisions were made by the contents of my pants. My vagina was — by way of Audrey II in Little Shop Of Horrors — constantly shouting "Feed me!", and breaking into musical numbers when I was trying to listen to my brain instead. If I had not discovered masturbation, I would have spent the majority of my time sitting on shed roofs, like a cat on heat, yowling at the moon. If a young woman isn't to go mad, then masturbation is a needful hobby, as vital as going on long country walks, to get a bit of air in your lungs, and pursuing the revolution. And what a hobby it is! It doesn't cost anything, it doesn't make you fat, you can knock it off in five minutes flat if you think about Han Solo, or some monkeys "doing it" on an Attenborough documentary, and it means you can face the world with a kind of stoned, post-coital cheerfulness that would otherwise require Valium, or constant spa-breaks.

There's a reason why God designed our bodies so that, when we lie down in bed, our hands naturally come to rest on our genitals. It's the Lord's way of saying, "Go on, have a fiddle. Find out how you work. And then, when you go out into the world, you won't be waiting for some bloke to come along and have sex on you. You'll be in the sex, too. It'll be like this… joint endeavour? A thing you can do together? That was kind of how I planned it all along, TBH. So, my Eleventh Commandment is 'Thou Shalt Buff Your Fnuh.' That's official. Signed, God."

9. Clothes
You know when we stand in front of a full wardrobe and say, "I don't have anything to wear!"? Obviously we have things to wear. You can see all the shit from where you are standing, fully dressed, ready to leave the house. What we mean is, "I don't have anything to wear for who I need to be today." What women wear is incredibly important and not just because we live in a society with a $1.5 trillion fashion-industry, and spend most of our spare time looking at cut-price Marc Jacobs handbags on theoutnet.com.

As we are the half of the world that still doesn't get to say as much as men (see stats earlier), how we look works by way of our opening paragraph in any social setting. Think of all the different kinds of looks women can have, depending on their clothes, hair and make-up: "Slutty". "Ball-busting". "Mumsy". "Manic Pixie Dream Girl". "Gym-bunny". "Mutton". "Nerdy". "Unfuckable".

Now think of all the ways men can dress. It's basically "some trousers". Ninety per cent of what men wear is "some trousers". You're just getting up in the morning, putting on your trousers and getting on with stuff.

And we fret about all this — appearance, clothes — because it matters. If we're still getting talked-over at meetings, is it because we're not dressing powerfully enough? If we're getting sexually harassed, is it because we're wearing the wrong skirt? In 2008, a rape case was overturned because the judge decided the alleged victim must have consented to sex, because her jeans were "too tight" for the accused to remove on his own. This is what we're thinking about, when we stand in front of the wardrobe. Will this outfit define the rest of today? Will it, if I am very unlucky, affect my life? Is this going to be the subject of a court-case? Could I run for my life in these shoes? Do I have anything for who I need to be today?

10. Male feminists
We're embarrassed when other women say, "Men can't be feminists!" We don't want to get into an argument, but we just can't see the logic in it. Feminism can only work if men are feminists, too — because the only indice by which feminism will succeed is based on how many people believe in it, support it, and want it to happen. By definition, it has to be a populist movement. There's no point in only 27 per cent of people believing in equality because the maths, very obviously, show that you won't be equal if 73 per cent of people think you're not. You can't go and… hide the feminism in a special secret place, and only let certain people have access to it. Besides, as discussed above, men need feminism almost as badly as women do. So, lady-balls to "men can't be feminists". We disbelieve that. In our vaginas.

11. Carbs
Our ultimate aim, when it comes to men, is to find an amusing mate we can have sex with, then sit on the sofa with, watching re-runs of Seinfeld and eating a baked potato. Discount all that Christian Grey/abs of steel/"bad boy" shit. Our priorities are: 1) Kindness; 2) Jokes; 3) High tolerance of carbs.

12. Trainers
It actually was us that threw those horrible old trainers of yours away. That story about how a time-portal opened up, and they were stolen away by your own teenaged self? That was a lie.

Reading This Beautiful Story Might Just Save Your Relationship. Choose Him or Her Everyday

I was scrolling through Facebook when I came across a story written by Bryan Reeves, a former US Air Force Captain who in his own words has survived multiple dark nights of the soul and done many stupid things that have taught him well.
I think most people who have experienced love will be able to connect to this story and I feel that it has the power to even save relationships by acting as a wake-up call to people who have someone special in their life.

I spent 5 years hurting a good woman by staying with her but never fully choosing her.

I did want to be with this one. I really wanted to choose her. She was an exquisite woman, brilliant and funny and sexy and sensual. She could make my whole body laugh with her quick, dark wit and short-circuit my brain with her exotic beauty. Waking up every morning with her snuggled in my arms was my happy place. I loved her wildly.
Unfortunately, as happens with many young couples, our ignorance of how to do love well quickly created stressful challenges in our relationship. Before long, once my early morning blissful reverie gave way to the strained, immature ways of our everyday life together, I would often wonder if there was another woman out there who was easier to love, and who could love me better.
As the months passed and that thought reverberated more and more through my head, I chose her less and less. Every day, for five years, I chose her a little less.
I stayed with her. I just stopped choosing her. We both suffered.

Choosing her would have meant focusing every day on the gifts she was bringing into my life that I could be grateful for: her laughter, beauty, sensuality, playfulness, companionship, and so … much … more.

Sadly, I often found it nearly impossible to embrace – or even see – what was so wildly wonderful about her.

I was too focused on the anger, insecurities, demands, and other aspects of her strong personality that grated on me. The more I focused on her worst, the more I saw of it, and the more I mirrored it back to her by offering my own worst behavior. Naturally, this only magnified the strain on our relationship … which still made me choose her even less.

Thus did our nasty death spiral play itself out over five years.
She fought hard to make me choose her. That’s a fool’s task. You can’t make someone choose you, even when they might love you.
To be fair, she didn’t fully choose me, either. The rage-fueled invective she often hurled at me was evidence enough of that.
I realize now, however, that she was often angry because she didn’t feel safe with me. She felt me not choosing her every day, in my words and my actions, and she was afraid I would abandon her.
Actually, I did abandon her.

By not fully choosing her every day for five years, by focusing on what bothered me rather than what I adored about her, I deserted her.

Like a precious fragrant flower I brought proudly into my home but then failed to water, I left her alone in countless ways to wither in the dry hot heat of our intimate relationship.

I’ll never not choose another woman I love again.
It’s torture for everyone.
If you’re in relationship, I invite you to ask yourself this question:

“Why am I choosing my partner today?”

If you can’t find a satisfying answer, dig deeper and find one. It could be as simple as noticing that in your deepest heart’s truth, “I just do.”
If you can’t find it today, ask yourself again tomorrow. We all have disconnected days.
But if too many days go by and you just can’t connect with why you’re choosing your partner, and your relationship is rife with stress, let them go. Create the opening for another human being to show up and see them with fresh eyes and a yearning heart that will enthusiastically choose them every day.
Your loved one deserves to be enthusiastically chosen. Every day.
You do, too.

My Story: I Was In A Live-In-Relationship With A ’Man’ Who Left Me & Got Married To Someone Without Even Bothering To Tell Me


Monali Bharadwaj is an inspiring woman to have battled many challenges in life. Professionally Monali is a television and advertising film producer. She is also a cancer fighter, has been a single parent, and has had life throw unexpected situations that has made her sail through various journeys.

Her daughter even witnessed her mum’s marriage and here with Mums and stories Monali shares her journey, a very sensitive and inspiring one. Read on to find out a narrative where this mum bares her soul.

“My childhood was fun; I grew up with my paternal grandparents in a tea estate in Assam. My dad was in the police force and mum was housewife. My dad was my hero and mum is still a pillar of strength. I have seen her going through all the pain in her life but she still manages to smile and she is an epitome of energy. As a child I was shy, introvert and would not speak up at all. I was bullied by elders always, and I used to behave like someone who would love to get into my own shell whenever needed. It was comforting.

But now I think that I have spent my most beautiful days our village with all my uncles, aunts, grandparents and friends. ‘Childhood was amazing’ if I could sum that in one line.

I went to stay with my parents when I was in 6th standard. It was a whole new experience for me, since dad was in a transferable job, we would move to other state in every 6 months. Assam was under turmoil at that time. Dad was never home for any occasion, festivals or family functions. My mum was the one who used to manage us all alone. Apart from cooking, cleaning and feeding she used to get time for herself to sing, or read. I still wonder how she managed that.


So my mum is my superwoman who is 50+ now, lives with 16 dogs in Assam after my father died in 2006.

Yes, I had a second marriage. but I was in a live in relationship for three years with a ’MAN’ who had realized that if he marries a divorcee, the SOCIETY won’t accept him, so he left us and got married to someone without even bothering to tell me!

I got married at the age of 21; by 24 I had Ruhi in my life. Life was beautiful till 2006, then everything started to fall apart. Dad died, compatibility issues raised in our relationship, So we decided to get separated. We had a mutual divorce and I didn’t claim any alimony from my ex-husband. I had no idea about divorce, money and other technical stuffs related to divorce. I decided to come to Delhi and joined one of my friend’s office. Till my divorce I was a HOUSEWIFE, I had no idea how to lead a single life with a 2 and half year old baby.

One fine day I decided to move to Bombay, but I was completely clueless about what would I do in this big city. I am very impulsive by nature and I didn’t think twice. I spoke to a friend in Bombay and asked if I could stay with them for few days.

With Rs 3000 in my hand I came to Bombay with a suitcase of clothes and Ruhi, she was almost three years by then. Next thing was to find a job. I was always fascinated by TV,

Through a friend I managed to connect with a production house. I met a top director and without experience I still looked and hoped for a job. After 15 days the accounts department told me that my job was satisfactory and they would pay me 8000 per month.

I was happy and at the same time I was worried. for 15 days I had managed someone to take care of Ruhi, but what would I do if I have to go to the shoots every day?

Questions like who would take care of her, who would feed her, because my job as an assistant director demanded minimum 12-15 hours every day. The real battle began as I knew I could not afford one full time maid to take care of daughter.

So I made a plan and discussed with my flat mates. The deal was, I will do all the household chores like cooking, washing, cleaning and in return their house help would have to take care of Ruhi when I am at work. So after lots of arguments and discussions finally everyone agreed.

I would finish everything by morning 5-5:30 and get ready for my shoot. All day Ruhi stayed with the maid. She fed Ruhi and made her sleep and she would leave. It was heart wrenching to see my daughter sleeping alone in mattress on the floor. I had to be tough, there was no options left for me.

One day I still remember, I dared to call up my ex and asked for some help, but it didn’t work out. I was demoralized but couldn’t give up.

I decided not give up, not to beg, not to look back…. I literally kept a stone in my heart and moved on. I used to work 15-16 hrs a day, to save 10 Rs. I used to walk 10 kms a day, so that at the end of month I could save at least 3000 Rs. My daughter’s body was full of infections, hair was full of lice, but I ignored everything.

My motto was to save some money and give her a better life. I used to skip meals, so that I could save. At one point my body weight was only 38 kgs. After slogging for 6-7 months, I could save some 30 k in my account. I never took any financial help from my mum as well.

I used to buy rice for 10rs, cook it in a pressure cooker, keep it in the fridge, next day morning again I would use that refrigerated rice, coz it becomes more in quantity and we could eat “Pet bharke” .

Time flies, and hard work pays off, I along with Ruhi decided to move to a studio apartment. I somehow managed to get a house help from Assam by then. So we went to a new home, Ruhi started going to a pre school near by my house. My worked continued, my salary increased and life was little better and most importantly I was no more a shy woman.

Bombay is and will be my teacher. This city has given me everything. It transformed me to an independent woman. I owe a lot to this place and I can say that my heart belongs here.

In 2010 I met a man, and decided to date. He took me to his home in Assam, we decided to stay together before getting married. In between many things happened, and I broke up with him. By this time I had lost my job and everything that I had done professionally.

I was back to zero, again I hunted for a job, I got one luckily. Now my daughter was 9 yrs old and mature enough to understand me. I again started to slog. This time life was tougher, Ruhi was in an international school, house was bigger, had two dogs to take care of. No maid again, but my daughter was managing a lot of things herself. We used to communicate via sticky notes. She would get up in the morning, get ready for school, bite one biscuit and walk to school. When she left I was always asleep and when I came back from office, she would be asleep. -This is how we spent 6-8 months. It was august end 2014.

One day I was getting ready for office and I felt a little lump near by my underarm. I ignored and left for office. I had begun to have this mild fever all the time and I would pop one tablet and go to sleep. After 15-20 days, by the time it was September, I was speaking to a friend of mine, I told her about the lump, and she told me to go to a doctor immediately. I rushed to see a doctor and the positive result came after lots of tests and biopsy by end of September.

I started taking chemos, radiations, my appetite was gone for ever, I became thin again. but I didn’t lose hope. I followed whatever my doctor had asked me to do. In the middle of the chemo’s I met my husband Abhijit Das, who is a rock star!

After 15 days of knowing each other we decided to get married. So we were married last year after I was convinced I won’t die.

I have no memories with my daughter.. I just realized when I am writing this experience of mine -I have been an unlucky mum. I could not see my child growing up, and she is already grown up. She is 12 yrs and studies in 6th standard.

When I had earlier explained to my daughter about my cancer, she had no clue about it and I think was just confused.

My advice to other mums would be – our kids are the biggest strength, we women are magicians, we create magic every day, if you go through cancer or any turmoil in life just talk to the family members, kids understand everything about their mums. They became so mature when their mums go through the rough patches of life.

Life has led me to be under different roles and I have also been the Mumbai and Guwahati mascot for Pinkathon. I could never think of running at all, but when I finished my first 3 km in 14 minutes, I was happy.

At this juncture I can say that cancer has changed the way I used to look into my life.

Now I realize I have got a new life.”
Thursday, September 22, 2016

100 years in prison for man caught on CCTV drowning his stepdaughter, three, in hotel pool


A man who was filmed repeatedly throwing his three-year-old stepdaughter in a swimming pool, causing her to drown, has been jailed for 100 years.

Horrifying surveillance footage showed the killer, identified only as Jose David N., throwing the child into the water at a hotel in the city of Morelia, in the south-western Mexican state of Michoacan in August 2015.

She is seen battling to keep herself afloat, while the murderer stands at the side of the pool doing nothing.

The helpless little girl could not swim, and other bathers did nothing to try and save her.  
Killer stepdad repeatedly throws scared toddler into hotel pool


A man, identified only as Jose David N., has been jailed for 100 years after repeatedly throwing his stepdaughter into a swimming pool, causing her to drown 

The youngster's mother, who is a nurse, did not realize her child was dead until after she had made one more visit to the pool with her husband. 

They then returned to find the lifeless girl in front of the TV, prompting them to take her to hospital.

She died a short time later. The mother claimed she did not know her daughter was being mistreated until she saw the shocking video clips. 

The incident took place on 12 August 2015 while the little girl's mother was sleeping in their hotel room. 
It caused outrage in South America after the footage was made public last year. 
The horrific CCTV footage showed the killer continuously dump his stepdaughter in the water and watch as she struggled  

The horrific CCTV footage showed the killer continuously dump his stepdaughter in the water and watch as she struggled  

Jose knew his stepdaughter could not swim but pleaded surprise after being told that she had drowned, the court heard.

However, the video footage proved enough to convict him and see him jailed with no possibility of parole.
Jose stayed silent throughout his murder trial and did not testify. Prosecutors had recommended a prison sentence of up to 40 years.

But a judge made his punishment more severe after reviewing the footage.  
It shows him standing at the poolside as her arms flail in the air.

She reaches out for help, before throwing in a lifebuoy, but the little girl is too weak to grab it.
The little girl was unable to escape the inhumane treatment and onlookers reportedly declined to step in and stop it 
The little girl was unable to escape the inhumane treatment and onlookers reportedly declined to step in and stop it 
At one point he throws her in and walks away before returning and tossing her back in when she is fully-clothed. 
After deliberation, judges Juan Salvador Alonso Mejia, Ana Lilia Garcia Cardona and Noe Reyes Millan found him guilty of aggravated murder.

The judge, Garcia Cardona, who read the sentence, said that not only did the man throw the toddler into the pool several times, he even dragged her by the hair under the water.
He then held her tiny body in such a position that she was unable to breathe.

The defence had tried to suggest that the little girl had died outside the pool and not in the water, but this was rejected by the judges. 

The mother is said to have taken her daughter to hospital after realising she wasn't breathing and doctors confirmed she had died.
The stepfather was arrested and detained a short time later. 
At one point in the disturbing video, he is seen holding her under the water 
At one point in the disturbing video, he is seen holding her under the water 
He pretended to throw a flotation device in to save her but knew the helpless little girl wouldn't be able to reach it 
He pretended to throw a flotation device in to save her but knew the helpless little girl wouldn't be able to reach it