Just Jelli

For fuck’s sake. No pretty pictures for this one. 

Another nationwide spotlight on a legal case; and another horrifying set of facts belying said case. In September of 2026, Jane Doe sued Cornell University, two fraternal organizations and others  , after she was allegedly viciously assaulted while at a frat house. And for those who come after me for using the word “allegedly,” get off your high horse and go fuck yourself. You’re not liable until proven liable. Nobody gets the benefit of the doubt unless it’s a “per se” situation, and this ain’t it. 

Does that mean I don’t believe the victim? NO! For fucks’ sake. It  means I will make an assessment once the evidence bears out. I do, however, feel comfortable making assessments based on a possible outcome, which outcome appears to be consistent with what Cornell University found during its paltry investigation of the incident in 2024. 

And that assessment is: geld them. 

Then make them eat it, Then remove their hands and tongues so they can’t use those either. No one needs to hear what they have to say ever again, anyway. Assuming they aren’t thrown in jail, I’m sure they’ll find something to make money with no hands or tongues. Using their Cornell degrees to pick fruit with their nubs, perhaps. 

And the rest of the cowards part of that group chat? Geld them, too. They don’t get the benefit of pleasure or procreation when they don’t use those parts to stand up against heinous acts like this. “Grow a pair” was apparently completed without the most important ingredient: fucking courage. 

Now that I’ve *just begun* to express my rage over this situation, I suppose I should provide some context for those who have not seen the headlines:

In October of 2024, “Jane Doe,” a freshman at Cornell University (and new member of Delta Delta Delta sorority), pregamed at the sorority house; went to a bar with her sisters where she drank more; and then went to another bar where she drank yet more. According to the factual allegations of the civil lawsuit, Doe left the last bar on her own and “stumbled” to the Chi Phi frat house to “hang out” with Matthew Ingalls. When she arrived, she had consumed 10 standard drinks (over three hours…surprised she was still able to walk). Ingalls nevertheless handed her a beer. After dancing with her, he propositioned for for a threesome with another brother. The complaint alleges Doe was unable to consent, but was lead upstairs anyway.

Pause. 

Doe’s lawyers worded it this way intentionally. Note they did not allege that Doe “declined” or “rejected” the offer. Only that she was incapable of consenting. This is likely because Doe does not recall whether she consented or not; or whether how she responded was a clear denial or not. The alleged fact remains: she was unable to consent and the implication was that Ingalls should have recognized this. Now, whether Ingalls was also in a state where he was so drunk that he was unable to recognize the state she was in; and/or misread her response is an issue that will be fettered out in discovery. But as we will see as this interaction progresses, the alleged facts bear out that what may have started as a misunderstanding escalated into acts no reasonable fucking person would characterize as consensual. 

Back to the allegations.

The other brother was Alex Vega. The three of them sat on a couch where Doe alleges they coerced her into snorting ketamine and drinking more alcohol.  Shortly thereafter, Ingalls took Doe into another room where he met Newell. Newell and Ingalls then began assuaging Doe – orally and with their penises. Ingalls eventually went limp and left to take a nap. Newell stayed and kept assaulting Doe, while Doe attempted to slap him away.

Another brother, Lopes, entered the room, grabbed Doe, kissed her, and, with Newell began sexually assaulting Doe again -without her consent. 

Pause.

Now the lawyers are saying she did not (as opposed to “could not”) consent. This is likely where Doe entered moments of lucidity and realized what was happening. At some point during this assault, Newell paused long enough to tell the rest of f the chapter in a group chat that there was “free pussy” at the house, and inviting others to join. 

Scott Norris responded, “free,,,,” while Scott Kretzshcmar quipped, “Diego went 7 min ago and is not afk sooooo.” Ingalls confessed his “fucking love” for the fraternity, and later supplied that his brothers could just “walk in and whip it out.” The message did the trick, and other brothers began arriving. Doe, at this point, was hiding under the blanket. Sarabia walked over, grabbed her face and began kissing her. She pushed him away. Newell then poured a line of ketamine on his penis and demanded Doe snort it – she did. Newell then got into bed with Doe and began groping her again. Shortly thereafter, Ingalls, Newell, Lee, Lopes, SaraBIa, Norris and Kretzchmar began pouring lines of ketamine on Doe, and snorting them off. 

Eventually, Newell, Lopes, Sarabia, Norris and Kretzschmar left, and Ingalls and Lee took Doe to the president’s office in the house, where they demanded Doe take yet more ketamine. Following her compliance, they continued assaulting her orally and with their penises.They finally stopped at 5:45 am. 

Approximately five hours after she had arrived. 

Five. Hours. 

For those working a 9-5, that would be from the time you clock in, through lunch, and only about 3 hours before you clock out. That is the majority of a work day. Being drugged and assaulted. Five. Fucking. Hours. 

Now. All of this is alleged; and not entirely consistent with Doe’s initial statement to the University. She apparently indicated some of what happened was consensual during her interview with University police; and texted Ingalls (or who we believe was Ingalls) cordially afterward. However, note I said “some.” Consenting to “some” of the sexual activity does not translate to carte blanche consent to ALL sexual activity – particularly if your are incapacitated. She told University police she was “100% raped,” that she felt she was coerced into doing some of the activities; and that she was incapacitated. 

This is not a black and white case — most are not, and we won’t know until after discovery. 

Regardless of the veracity of this one woman in particular, this lawsuit brings to the forefront of American consciousness the very real, very documented, and very common sexual and violent attacks against women BY MEN. 

Men

Attacking

Women

It is men. 

Not all men sexually assault, but the VAST majority of the assaults are by men.

“Ugh, you’re such a cheugy pick-me.”

If that means I’m a decent human, then YES. Pick me all fucking day. Men who are somehow threatened or offended by these facts should probably evaluate why they’re threatened or offended. Because that’s a problem, my guy. When you are offended when there are calls to action to prevent harm against other humans, there is a problem, and it’s probably you. 

Time to take a look in the mirror, and maybe punch what you see looking back for starters. 

“But women lie all the time about this shit!”

Show me the fucking statistic that proves women lie more about sexual assault than women who are actually assaulted. You can’t. Because it doesn’t exist. A 2010 study completed over the course of 10 years by the National Sexual Violence Resource Center found the percentage   of false sexual assault allegations ranged between 2 and 10 percent, compared to between 20 and 25 percent of actual reported assaults. That is between double and more than double the amount of false allegations; and it is taken from circumstances where the assault was actually fucking reported.  

And don’t get me wrong: women who lie about this not only ruin the life(s) of the man(men) who they victimize, but they also do a dangerous disservice to every other woman who has actually been assaulted. I mean, shit. It is massively difficult to get any action taken against men who prey on women already. 

A good lawyer friend of mine was sexually assaulted while at a bar with a group of friends. They were her firm colleagues, but invited some law school friends, she (we’ll call her Lauren) was not familiar with. Lauren was DD, and shuttled everyone (including the new guy) to the bar. While she was dancing (by herself, mind you), the group left her. Without telling her. The only person who stayed was that guy – a lawyer who now practices in Bartow, Florida. He came up to her while she was dancing and started grinding on her. She is 95 pounds soaking wet, and while she is a trained martial artist (2nd degree black belt, I believe at the time) there’s only so much someone with not a lot of mass can do, and the guy was pushing 180 pounds. 

She fawned – i.e., accommodated him and allowed him to keep dancing on her. She told me, she tried to make eye contact with someone – anyone – to help her get him off of her. She was specifically ashamed of herself for allowing this because of her training. She absolutely destroyed herself, saying she should have kicked his ass; should have done some karate shit to get away, should have, should have, should have. Lauren is not the only combat-trained women who has “allowed” herself to be in that position. It is fight, flight, or fawn. It was not a failure of her training or of her. It has been nearly 10 years, and she still tells me how ashamed she is of herself for not fighting back. 

At some point, he got off her, and she got away long enough to text her friends, asking where they were, and telling them their friend was being weird, and that she wanted to get away from him. Her “friends” sent her a location tag for the bar they had gone to, so she began to make her way to them. He followed. There was a line to get into the bar, and he stood directly behind her. 

He groped her behind. 

He then moved his hand beneath her behind, and onto her lady bits. 

No one paid any attention. 

She didn’t scream.

She didn’t punch him. 

She turned and said, “I have to go to the bathroom. You hold our place in line, and I’ll be right back.”

She ran up to the bar. She told the bouncer she was trying to get away from a guy, and asked if she could sneak through the patio and around back. He let her. 

Lauren, my sweet, smart, kind-hearted, ride-or-die, Juris Doctor, ran through the slop and garbage of the back of the house of a busy Friday night bar, behind a dumpster, and through brush to escape this dude. 

She ran back to her badass black Camaro, texted her “friends” that they’d have to find their own fucking way back home, and sped away. She called her husband on the way, in shock, then in tears, then hyperventilating, and told him what had happened. She had to talk her husband down from driving to the bar, armed with one of their many guns. It took Lauren YEARS to come down from that. 

She reported him to the police, who told her there was nothing they could do, because there were no witnesses, and it would come down to a “he said, she said” situation. She insisted on making the report anyway, to make a record. Because she knew how powerful records can be, if ever needed. Her father, a high-power, highly-respected lawyer in the area, contacted this predator’s boss and told him what happened. 

Nothing came of it. 

He kept his job.

He was never charged.

Never reprimanded.

She, on the other hand, had to work for YEARS on intimacy issues with her husband. Had to work for YEARS on the shame she felt for her own self-perceived failure. 

Do you have any friends who are girls? Fucking ask them. Ask your mom. Ask your sister, cousin, aunt. I guaran-damn-tee you they have experienced some sort of harassment, or worse – assault. 

Women are human. What a weird fucking sentence to write. But that is the crux of this millennia-old issue. Many men do not see women as human, so they treat them like objects – to touch whenever and however they please. Objects with no feelings, no brain – just a pair of tits and a few holes. FOR FUCKS’ SAKE.

The men who read this are not likely the ones who need to hear it. But, they are the ones who can make a difference and fucking HELP, bro. Call your asshole friends out. Step in – I promise you aren’t putting yourself in harm’s way – and if you feel you are, call the fucking cops. Women would do the same for you. 

You know how I know? Because I’ve seen it multiple times. I was in a frat. I saw my brothers get irreconcilably pissed, and when their brothers were passed out, or still having fun, it was the little sisters or sorority members who took care of them – put them to bed; gave them water and Advil. I, myself, was adopted when my buddy ditched me on a pub crawl in a city I didn’t know. A bachelorette party saw me by myself and asked if I wanted to join. No one flirted – it was all just pure fucking fun. The bachelorette herself bought us all several rounds of Jell-O shots; I was invited back to their hotel room (my “buddy” had the keys to our AirBNB and wasn’t answering his phone), where they gave ME their bed, while THEY had a slumber party on the floor. They ordered pizza; and then in the morning, they invited me to fucking brunch. BRUNCH, motherfuckers. Top it all off, the bachelorette invited me to her wedding. 

I respectfully declined, but we’re still Facebook friends. 

Listen. 

I’m not saying all women are so hospitable. And I’m not saying all men are monsters. But statistically, it is MOSTLY men who assault women – not women who assault men or other women. Shit, it’s mostly men who assault other men. We get big in our fee fees sometimes, and need to punch it out – I get it. But we also have (most of us) functioning brains which can be used to reverse, or at least quell the urges we get. 

Time to start using it, boys.