Look at these, my ruby red, ruby lips

WHERE MY BETCHES AT??!?!

You know, this might come as a bit of a shock to some people, but I want to tell you a secret: Not all women like Shitney Shears. Or Chessica Chimpson. Or Penis Hilton. Or Hariah Harey. Or Peline Pion. Hell, I hate to think even half of the women I know would like any of those "performance artists."

Yes, we like shoes. Earrings. Pink. And I might harbor a secret wish to have a life-sized doll house. But is there music out there for us gals that don't think that the soundtrack to a rom-com defines our very existence? This is my anti-rom-com manifesta!

Yes.

Let this henceforth be known as:
Female Artists That We Are Proud to Call Our Own! They Effin' Rock! or FATWAPCOOTER for short. (Funny aside: My maternal grandfather had a big doberman pinscher named Cooter.)

May I introduce you to The Bird and the Bee, Fcking Boyfriend



Please to allow Rasputina, Watch TV



Bless and protect PJ Harvey, Sheela-na-gig



I'm pleased to announce The Cardigans My Favourite Game



May 76 virgins greet you in heaven, oh most holy Cat Power Lived in Bars



My love, my very own, my precious, my dearest Portishead Over