The Captain - Fucking History - 52 Lessons You Should Have Learned in School

Vaginas are powerful. Let’s be honest, women are basically walking around with an atomic bomb between their legs. And with that kind of power comes the ability to command absolute fear, respect, and devotion. Like Queen Njinga (alternate spelling, “Nzinga”) of Angola did during her African reign in the 1600s. Her story begins during the height of the Portuguese slave trade.

Shortly after the death of her father, King Kiluanji, in 1618, her brother took to the throne, but his lack of leadership skills quickly became apparent. So, he simply gave up. He committed suicide in 1626, allowing the Portuguese to essentially do whatever the fuck they wanted with the Angolan population. And, well, Njinga wasn’t about that life. So she took control, assumed the throne, and began her retaliation against the Portuguese. Her ruthlessly independent nature made her a brilliant military leader as she organized several guerrilla armies to defend her people. Her independent spirit also meant that instead of finding a man to become the new king, she simply took on the role herself, requiring that she be referred to as a “king” rather than “queen.” And, like most kings did back then, she amassed herself a large harem: Hundreds of male concubines kept around solely for her sexual pleasure.

Now, you wouldn’t expect a woman of her status to let just any dude wet his willy with her, would you? Of course not. So in order to find the right guy for the night, she’d choose two and watch them fight to the death. The winner earned the honor of her royal attention. Then, in order to prevent him from getting too clingy, she’d have him killed the following morning. (Damn, not even breakfast or coffee. Harsh.) The pattern continued for nearly 40 years — fighting the Portuguese by day, watching dudes fight to have sex with her by night. Her life was like one of those sexy, violent Rihanna music videos.

Now, ladies, your vagina is kind of a big deal. I’m not saying you should make guys fight to the death for it, but you should definitely make them work a little. I don’t know, maybe something involving karate, or better yet, a fucking career.

Sure, you can call yourself a “dog mom” or a “cat daddy,” but the truth is, you’re not a fucking parent — you’re a kidnapper, and pets are the ultimate example of Stockholm syndrome. (If you don’t know what that is, quickly Google it so we can get on with learning.)

I mean, when has your dog ever complained about where you live? Not once. You just randomly brought him home one day like, “Hey, welcome to your new home,” and never has he said shit about your dirty laundry, wine-stained carpet, or poorly assembled IKEA furniture set. He simply accepted his new life with a good attitude and a happy tail. So, the way I see it, there’s no such thing as taking it too far when it comes to being a good parent to your pets. I say, buy them cute clothes, throw them birthday parties, and treat them like a member of the fucking family. That’s the least you can do after kidnapping them from their real mom. Just don’t do what Mary Toft did… she was fucking crazy.

In 1726, the seemingly normal resident of Surrey, England, took the pet-parenting thing a little too far. You see, Mary Toft had such a weird- ass obsession with rabbits, she would actually stuff bunnies up her vagina and pretend to give birth to them. Literally trying to be their mom. (And you thought visiting your gynecologist was uncomfortable.) She even performed this feat in front of doctors, convincing them she was a legit bunny-birther. In fact, medical professionals began to attribute her miraculous conceptions to “maternal impression” — the belief that dreams and obsession could lead to physical changes within a mother’s womb. After several doctors vouched for the validity of her story, she became an overnight celebrity and even caught the attention of the British royal family.

She carried on her hare hoax for months, giving birth to at least 15 bunnies during this time. It wasn’t until a politician put her claims under intense investigation that she finally confessed to what she was doing. (Oh, I forgot to tell you, Mary was married this entire time. It was actually her husband who was buying all the bunnies for her to “birth.”)

Huh, suddenly becoming a crazy cat lady doesn’t seem so crazy, does it?

A girl squad is like a flock of birds: If you spook one, you spook ‘em all. Basically, if you’re dating one of them, you’re pretty much dating all of them. Because every fight, every picture, every text — EVERYTHING you do (or do not do) — will become subject to the squad’s ridicule, investigation, and approval. But it’s not all bad. If you’re a decent guy, your girlfriend’s squad might actually be your greatest asset. If they like you, your girlfriend’s friends will be your strongest advocates during those times when your girlfriend completely loses her fucking mind. Girls trust the shit out of their friends, and that’s why girl squads exist.

Even great queens throughout history have relied on their squad to approve of potential suitors. Don’t believe me? Let’s learn more: Catherine the Great ruled Russia from 1762 until 1796, making her the longest running female leader in Russia’s history. She was smart, savvy, sophisticated, and goddamn fierce. Under her rule and military command, Russia was established as a dominant power. (You’re welcome, Russia. A lady did that. Now cheer the fuck up.) Anyway, you’d think a woman as powerful and smart as Catherine wouldn’t need girlfriends for advice, right? Wrong. Catherine was a sex fiend. I’m talking freaky-deaky shit, but because of her position and reputation, she couldn’t go around fucking just anybody — she was the Empress of Russia for God’s sake. So, she enlisted the help of her squad.

In order to get to Catherine, you had to go through them. Literally. If Catherine thought you were hot, she’d ask you to sleep with a member of her squad first to make sure you were able to satisfy her own royal thirst. If you came up short, it was mission abort, and Catherine was on to the next one. (Damn, at least with a dick pic you get a few moments to explain yourself.)

Now, guys, I know it’s a pain in the ass, but learn to play nice with your girlfriend’s friends — you never know when you might need them on your side. Yes, even Ashley. (I know, I don’t get it either. Ashley’s a fucking mess… nobody should be taking advice from her.)

Take no shit. If somebody wrongs you, don’t just sit back and let it happen. People treat you the way you allow them to treat you. If you continually roll over, they’ll continue to roll over top of you like a truck. Whether it’s work, a relationship, or simply your everyday life — if somebody doesn’t treat you right, do something about it. Now, as a female, you’ll probably be called a “bitch” every time you defend yourself, but guess what, it’s better to be a bitch than a victim. So stick up for yourself and don’t be afraid to get a little crazy — be like Hannah Duston.

Born in 1657, Hannah grew up in Massachusetts, where she lived a rather calm life until the year 1697. That year, the mother of nine was kidnapped by a group of raiding Abenaki during King William’s War. But, this wasn’t just your typical “Hey, check out my van” kind of kidnapping. This kidnapping was straight Eli Roth shit. Because not only did they burn Hannah’s house down so her family had nowhere to hide, they also killed her newborn child right in front of her. All in all, around 27 colonists were axed, and 13 more taken captive during the one-night free-for-all. Granted, we know the early colonists did some pretty fucked-up shit and probably had this coming, but what Hannah did next is still impressive.