hey, you got men in my derby!

OK, I realize that this article is either troll bait or an attempt (strong emphasis on "attempt") at humor, plus it was published about hundred years ago in Internet Time, but I can't resist stupidity this full-bodied and odorous.

Five Reasons There Shouldn't Be a Men's Roller Derby

Ew, men! Icky! No, really. Once you delve into this article, you realize that "Ew, men!" is the main thesis here.

There's a local men's roller derby team called the Phoenix Rattleskates. Why? We understand why women's roller derby is popular: there are hordes of tattooed hot chicks in skimpy uniforms wrestling and slamming into each other.

Ooh, we're already off to a great start. Apparently, people love women's roller derby because it's Jell-O wrestling on wheels.

It's the only full-contact sport dominated by sexy women, and the ladies' leagues here -- particularly the Arizona Derby Dames and Arizona Roller Derby -- demonstrate fierce athletic prowess.

SEXY women. A distant third place: athletic prowess.

1. There are already enough sports filled with brawny dudes beating their chests and throwing each other around. Guys have hockey, football, basketball, boxing, wrestling, and the Ultimate Fighting Championship (not to mention drunken bar fights).

Now I've only been to a couple of rules review sessions, but I think "beating [one's] chest" and "throwing each other around" would result in a hell of a lot of penalties, many of them major. Seriously, though-- is the idea of men participating in just one more sport that much of a threat to women's derby?

We get that roller derby is a new way for guys to move fast and hit hard, but it doesn't sound fun to watch.

Wait, you haven't even seen a men's bout yet? Also, why doesn't it sound like good entertainment? Is it because there are no breasts involved?

We just hope they're wearing cups, or they might be trying rhythmic gymnastics or synchronized swimming next.

Nut shot jokes: the last refuge of the unfunny. It would be hilarious if men didn't protect their genitals, right? There also seems to be an implication that gymnastics and swimming are for the, um, nutless. So men are worthless without testicles. Why don't you just go to a knitting bee, ya big girl?! Or do some gymnastics, because they're practically the same thing!

2. The possibilities of men's roller derby outfits are horrid. Obviously, the skimpy shorts, skirts, fishnets, and low-cut tops of derby dames won't do for the dudes.

Oh, obviously. Still, have any of you men-fancying ladies seen Thomas Refferson skate in lift-and-separate shorts? Oh wait, you haven't actually seen any men's derby. Well, still! I maintain that if the Diva Jammer's raw physicality leaves you unmoved, you might as well not have a pulse.

So what if they're actually wearing baggy knee-length shorts (watch out for butt cracks) and T-shirts? For us, just the thought of men on skates in leg-hugging 1960s basketball shorts makes us cringe.

Look, I'm pretty sure men aren't REQUIRED BY LAW to wear shorty-shorts while skating, so get the fuck off your fainting couch. Also, why are men's thighs apparently the worst thing imaginable? Are you afraid that exposure to male flesh will wake your clit from its decades-long sleep?

In fact, let me go on a brief side rant here. When did we become so repulsed by the male body? Yeah, Jon Hamm, what a hideous man-troll. I'd sure hate to see him naked! I mean, I doubt every male derby team is made of up Don Drapers (although the possibility does intrigue), but ya know what? I don't vomit every time I lay eyes upon a Seth Rogan type. Is holding men to the same absurdly high standard of attractiveness that women experience a part of third-wave feminism or something? As a third-waver, let me be authoritative and say: no, it fucking isn't.

3. The smell. Any men's locker room emits a certain odor that's a combination of dirty feet, sweaty arm pits, and for some reason, the rubber on new shoes. We can only imagine the olfactory horror that would come from adding sweaty, dirty roller skates to the mix.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Oh man, someone's never met a derby chick in the flesh before, has she? Try this, ma'am: the next time you're at a bout, go up to any one of the skaters and take a big whiff of her wristguards. After you've finishing throwing up, just try to tell me that men have the monopoly on horrific body odor.

4. There are enough pun names in the world already. The women in Arizona roller derby have names like Ginger Mortis, Nova Kane, Gwen Steponya, and Kat Von Double D's. The guys are donning similar pseudonyms, like Arth Riddick, Bombs Onya Moms, Girth Brooks, and Skip Play. It's cute and kind of vicious when the girls take such monikers, but the guys sound like Garbage Pail Kids.

Is this even an argument? Yeah, some people don't like silly skate names, but until now I've never heard a gendered argument against them. Anyway, I grew up in the Eighties and I distinctly remember that there were female Garbage Pail Kids. But whatever, let's continue the trend of "Anything a woman does is pathetic and stupid when a man does it." Congrats on your internalized misogyny!

5. There are no illusions of grace. When a woman gets on a pair of skates and glides around a rink -- even if she's kicking people in the gut the whole way -- there's an inevitable feminine grace to what she's doing. And no, it has nothing to do with boobs bouncing, because men can have boobs, too. There's just something about the image of a big, hairy guy rolling around on eight wheels that makes us think less about lithe athletes, and more about Mack trucks.

Oh fuck you, Phyllis Schlafly. I can't speak for all derby chicks, of course, but some of us got into this sport because we weren't fucking interested in showing off our "feminine grace."

I mean, yeah, you take a skater like Chargin' Tina, she definitely has grace. That's because she was figure skating from a young age, though. I doubt she fell out of the womb that way (although she certainly skates like she was born with wheels on her feet). Speaking of figure skating-- we let men do that too, right? I never tuned in to Olympic skating and said, "WHOA WHAT IS THIS, A BUNCH OF ELEPHANTS CRASHING AROUND ON THE ICE? OH WAIT IT'S JUST THE MEN'S SOLO SKATE, MY BAD."

And how does "feminine grace" automatically correlate in the writer's head with "boobs bouncing"? I guess we women can't do anything without our tits getting all over the place. You know, like when we're golfing, or running for Senate.

[This blog has been edited for accuracy since publication]

Obviously not, since you haven't erased the whole thing.