Quite recently, some of the girls and I were discussing our Magic Numbers - how many men we've slept with. It got me wondering, how many is too many? Who really gives a shit?
I'm not really a one night stand type of person. By that, I mean I don't pick men up in clubs, shag them, and send them home. I don't think less of those who do, it just isn't for me. My magic number is....11. I'm not sure if this is high or low within the general population, but I'm OK with it. I've had two very long term relationships, and the others were generally third-date type shags or friends-with-benefits scenarios. People seem to make the assumption that I've slept with looooads of people because I talk about sex a lot. I haven't.
As I've said before, I'm not a feminist by any stretch of the imagination. The one thing that does bother me though, is that women simply aren't allowed to exhibit the sexual behaviour that men are. Women who shag on date one are said to be "giving it up" too early; I don't see it as giving, but actually as getting. People seem to forget that women enjoy sex - we don't just use it as a tool to get what we want or make men fall in love with us. We don't even do it just because men like it. Sometimes we just want to be fucked, plain and simple. If you're hungry, you eat. If you're thirsty, you drink. It therefore makes sense that if you're horny, you should fuck. I am by no means suggesting that girls go wild as a salmon and mount a truckload of penises - unless they want to of course - but more that maybe the time has come for society to accept that women are allowed to enjoy sex just as much as men.
Saturday, 8 September 2012
Tuesday, 24 July 2012
Wednesday, 4 July 2012
Irritating things.
Just a bit of a rant really.
Impolite eating.
This is one of the main things that makes me wonder if maybe I could kill a person. People who talk with their mouths full. People who scrape their fork on their teeth. People who manage to miss their mouth frequently. STOP IT. It's fucking horrible. "Manners cost nothing" - this includes table manners.
Don't get me wrong. I couldn't care less if you put your elbows on the table. But I do not want to see the mush in your mouth. It is repulsive. I don't want to hear it either. A girl I went to school with once laughed with a mouth full of crunched up apple, and spat it all over my sandwich. I didn't speak to her for a few days, and I never looked at her the same again afterwards.
Bad Manners.
Bit of an extension of the previous point, really. If I've gone through a door ahead of you and I hold it open, say thank you. If you're asking me to do something or pass something to you, whatever, say please. It doesn't take a lot of effort, but it means that I won't spit in/lick/wipe my arse on whatever I'm passing to you.
Old people like to make out it is our generation with no manners, but I beg to differ. It isn't a generation thing. We should all treat one another with mutual respect - the youth of today have been created by the youth of yesterday, don't forget that. I was in the queue for a sandwich one lunchtime, when an elderly woman literally elbowed in front of me to pay for her things. I was actually too shocked to say anything until she'd already paid, she had done it so...obviously...and with such gusto. But as she left, I said "obviously you're more familiar with the concept of age before beauty than you are with the concept of queuing". She said "I've earned my right to go in front, I'm 72". Now. If an old person behind me in a queue looked as if they were struggling, I am the sort of person to offer them the place in front of me. But not when they're perfectly OK and able to push me away with that much strength. Mind you, the polite option doesn't get you anywhere either, sometimes. I offered my seat on the bus to an old woman once, who replied "I'm getting on a bit, I'm not bloody disabled". Can't win.
Princesses.
If I have you on Facebook and you have children, I apologise for this post. Actually, I don't. Because if you are still on my friends list, you probably don't do this. I'd have deleted you by now.
There is NO NEED to update your status every fucking morning about how amazing your "little princess" is, and how she's just done a massive turd. I do not care. I don't want to see pictures of it either. The kid or the shit. "Princess" isn't good either. It implies that she's spoilt and demanding and basically a little fucker. We know you love your own kids - that's the norm. We won't doubt you if you just tell us about it less. I'd also recommend keeping a little bit of "you" rather than becoming a Cath Kidston mum-twat who no longer carries lipgloss, but has a handbag full of tissues, arsewipes and slices of apple/bottles of fruit shoot. You are allowed to move away from the Mum Uniform of baggy t-shirt and leggings. You are still a woman. I may regret this when I'm a mother, but I doubt it. I like to think I will still be a normal human being. We'll see.
Also, if you're pregnant, stop posting your scan pictures all over the place. They all look the same, whilst they're cooking and up until the age of about 18 months.
Duck egg blue and Beige.
STOP DECORATING YOUR HOUSE IN DUCK EGG BLUE/TEAL AND BEIGE.
Your feature wall, in a floral flocked wallpaper, doesn't make you look original. Nor does the beige paint, the blue curtains and cushions, and the tan sofa. It looks fucking horrible. Get creative, do something a bit funky. Linda Barker won't mind. She won't even know. I promise. And those three-piece floral "canvas" art pieces that you hang up, that you bought from Wilko's for £12? They're shit!
Impolite eating.
This is one of the main things that makes me wonder if maybe I could kill a person. People who talk with their mouths full. People who scrape their fork on their teeth. People who manage to miss their mouth frequently. STOP IT. It's fucking horrible. "Manners cost nothing" - this includes table manners.
Don't get me wrong. I couldn't care less if you put your elbows on the table. But I do not want to see the mush in your mouth. It is repulsive. I don't want to hear it either. A girl I went to school with once laughed with a mouth full of crunched up apple, and spat it all over my sandwich. I didn't speak to her for a few days, and I never looked at her the same again afterwards.
Bad Manners.
Bit of an extension of the previous point, really. If I've gone through a door ahead of you and I hold it open, say thank you. If you're asking me to do something or pass something to you, whatever, say please. It doesn't take a lot of effort, but it means that I won't spit in/lick/wipe my arse on whatever I'm passing to you.
Old people like to make out it is our generation with no manners, but I beg to differ. It isn't a generation thing. We should all treat one another with mutual respect - the youth of today have been created by the youth of yesterday, don't forget that. I was in the queue for a sandwich one lunchtime, when an elderly woman literally elbowed in front of me to pay for her things. I was actually too shocked to say anything until she'd already paid, she had done it so...obviously...and with such gusto. But as she left, I said "obviously you're more familiar with the concept of age before beauty than you are with the concept of queuing". She said "I've earned my right to go in front, I'm 72". Now. If an old person behind me in a queue looked as if they were struggling, I am the sort of person to offer them the place in front of me. But not when they're perfectly OK and able to push me away with that much strength. Mind you, the polite option doesn't get you anywhere either, sometimes. I offered my seat on the bus to an old woman once, who replied "I'm getting on a bit, I'm not bloody disabled". Can't win.
Princesses.
If I have you on Facebook and you have children, I apologise for this post. Actually, I don't. Because if you are still on my friends list, you probably don't do this. I'd have deleted you by now.
There is NO NEED to update your status every fucking morning about how amazing your "little princess" is, and how she's just done a massive turd. I do not care. I don't want to see pictures of it either. The kid or the shit. "Princess" isn't good either. It implies that she's spoilt and demanding and basically a little fucker. We know you love your own kids - that's the norm. We won't doubt you if you just tell us about it less. I'd also recommend keeping a little bit of "you" rather than becoming a Cath Kidston mum-twat who no longer carries lipgloss, but has a handbag full of tissues, arsewipes and slices of apple/bottles of fruit shoot. You are allowed to move away from the Mum Uniform of baggy t-shirt and leggings. You are still a woman. I may regret this when I'm a mother, but I doubt it. I like to think I will still be a normal human being. We'll see.
Also, if you're pregnant, stop posting your scan pictures all over the place. They all look the same, whilst they're cooking and up until the age of about 18 months.
Duck egg blue and Beige.
STOP DECORATING YOUR HOUSE IN DUCK EGG BLUE/TEAL AND BEIGE.
Your feature wall, in a floral flocked wallpaper, doesn't make you look original. Nor does the beige paint, the blue curtains and cushions, and the tan sofa. It looks fucking horrible. Get creative, do something a bit funky. Linda Barker won't mind. She won't even know. I promise. And those three-piece floral "canvas" art pieces that you hang up, that you bought from Wilko's for £12? They're shit!
Monday, 2 July 2012
Pondering, Austen style.
This is just a little bit of a mess really, I didn’t plan on posting it, but anyway...
I’m a big fan of Jane Austen. I frequently receive messages from men that quite frankly puzzle me to point of despair. “nice tits” is one that comes up a lot. I won’t let a bloke like that sweep me off my feet.
Those comments probably sound totally unrelated, but I’ve been thinking lately. I’m writing these men off instantly. Literally, I’ll read the message, click back, and never look again. But...
Mr Darcy. He went through such a transformation. The first impression he gave was that of an absolute arsehole, truth be told. But because he has strong principles, and through falling in love and learning to look beyond facades etc, he comes out of his hard shell and becomes worthy of pretty-much-perfect-Elizabeth.
This speaks to me on loads of levels. Should I be giving these guys a bit more of a chance? First impressions-wise, am I giving off the wrong one in order to attract these guys in the first place?
I think Austen can teach us a lot about men, even today. Henry Crawford, for example. Probably the type of man we should all avoid, flirts with anyone and everyone. The type of man that is all over you from the very first second. Who asks nothing about your life. Full of sexually charged banter and only asks you on late-night dates. We should avoid this man, and avoid behaving like the female equivalent of this man. Can you become addicted to flirting, and therefore be more reluctant to enter into a relationship or be faithful in a relationship?
I’m a big fan of Jane Austen. I frequently receive messages from men that quite frankly puzzle me to point of despair. “nice tits” is one that comes up a lot. I won’t let a bloke like that sweep me off my feet.
Those comments probably sound totally unrelated, but I’ve been thinking lately. I’m writing these men off instantly. Literally, I’ll read the message, click back, and never look again. But...
Mr Darcy. He went through such a transformation. The first impression he gave was that of an absolute arsehole, truth be told. But because he has strong principles, and through falling in love and learning to look beyond facades etc, he comes out of his hard shell and becomes worthy of pretty-much-perfect-Elizabeth.
This speaks to me on loads of levels. Should I be giving these guys a bit more of a chance? First impressions-wise, am I giving off the wrong one in order to attract these guys in the first place?
I think Austen can teach us a lot about men, even today. Henry Crawford, for example. Probably the type of man we should all avoid, flirts with anyone and everyone. The type of man that is all over you from the very first second. Who asks nothing about your life. Full of sexually charged banter and only asks you on late-night dates. We should avoid this man, and avoid behaving like the female equivalent of this man. Can you become addicted to flirting, and therefore be more reluctant to enter into a relationship or be faithful in a relationship?
Wednesday, 27 June 2012
Monday, 18 June 2012
Adventures With My Big Bro
As I stated in my Intro, my Bro is not my real Bro. Not biologically. I haven't even known him that long really, compared to other people, but I love him to bits. We had each other on Facebook, and had mutual friends etc, but we only really got closer when I visited him in hospital with Red Bull, fags and chocolate. Since then, I've barely stopped laughing.
We were in town a few weeks ago. Walking up to the park, and bold as brass, he calls out to some builders "She's got a great pair, ain't she lads!'; he'd caught them having a look. I catch people having a gander all the time (honestly, anyone would think people had never seen boobs before), but I never say anything. Of course, when he shouts that, others start turning round to have a butchers as well. We then passed a busker. "Bloody hell, he nearly dropped his flute then!" - calling another pervert out on his obvious staring. During all this, I noticed I was walking behind a very attractive chap in a suit - I'm a sucker for a suit. Of course he turned round for a gander, and chuckled. I then tried to avoid walking into a pushchair and almost walked into him instead. "She's trying to hold your hand mate!!". Now, with most people, I'd be a bit pissed off at them encouraging Bazoonga Attention and general embarrassment, but he gets away with it. I don't know how. The next day, we had a wander into HMV just to have a look around. We went to have a play on the tablets and on the one right in front of us, in the search bar was my full name. Freaked out much?!
He also comes out with some excellent phrases. In fact, it was my lovely Bro who came up with the nickname which is now my name on Facebook, and the name by which I'm known to all my friends in London. There are too many of them for me to list, but amongst my favourites are:
We were in town a few weeks ago. Walking up to the park, and bold as brass, he calls out to some builders "She's got a great pair, ain't she lads!'; he'd caught them having a look. I catch people having a gander all the time (honestly, anyone would think people had never seen boobs before), but I never say anything. Of course, when he shouts that, others start turning round to have a butchers as well. We then passed a busker. "Bloody hell, he nearly dropped his flute then!" - calling another pervert out on his obvious staring. During all this, I noticed I was walking behind a very attractive chap in a suit - I'm a sucker for a suit. Of course he turned round for a gander, and chuckled. I then tried to avoid walking into a pushchair and almost walked into him instead. "She's trying to hold your hand mate!!". Now, with most people, I'd be a bit pissed off at them encouraging Bazoonga Attention and general embarrassment, but he gets away with it. I don't know how. The next day, we had a wander into HMV just to have a look around. We went to have a play on the tablets and on the one right in front of us, in the search bar was my full name. Freaked out much?!
He also comes out with some excellent phrases. In fact, it was my lovely Bro who came up with the nickname which is now my name on Facebook, and the name by which I'm known to all my friends in London. There are too many of them for me to list, but amongst my favourites are:
- "cock socket", meaning fanny.
- "baggy badger", meaning a loose fanny.
- "I never shoplift. I'm just an opportunist"
- "Man who walk through turnstile sideways going to Bangkok"
- "Man who fishes in another mans pond going to catch crabs"
- They should call the roofs on convertible cars 'foreskins', because when you pull it back it reveals the bell end underneath.
Anyway. He's awesome. That is all.
Couples Who Poo Together...
A few days ago, I discovered that my friend, The American One, will happily go for a poo whilst her husband is in the bath, and vice versa. I couldn't believe it. I posted something about this on Facebook, and it seems I'm not alone in finding this very, very odd.
I'm all for being comfortable with one another - being able to sit in joggers with your hair up etc. That's nice. Pooing in front of each other though, is some whole other level stuff. I can honestly say I have no desire to see any boys poo face, or hear the plop/thud, or any of that sort of thing. Likewise, I would not want a boy to see mine (if I did them. I'm a lady; when I go to the bathroom, there are flowers and glitter and roses and fairies).
One of the things that keeps a relationship good, is romance. If you shit in front of one another, the romance is dead. How can you possible fancy a shag when you've seen your other half on the lav? Would you not see The Poo Face every time you looked at them? Some things are best kept private, and this is one of them. The American One thinks it's a lovely sign of how comfortable they are with one another...I think they are just TOO comfortable.
Dita Von Teese and Marilyn Manson apparently had their own individual bathrooms. That is ideal. of course, we cannot all have that, so I'd recommend just keeping your toileting activity to yourself. Nobody else needs to see it.
For some couples, though, who are into poo sharing, may I suggest a twobicle?
I'm all for being comfortable with one another - being able to sit in joggers with your hair up etc. That's nice. Pooing in front of each other though, is some whole other level stuff. I can honestly say I have no desire to see any boys poo face, or hear the plop/thud, or any of that sort of thing. Likewise, I would not want a boy to see mine (if I did them. I'm a lady; when I go to the bathroom, there are flowers and glitter and roses and fairies).
One of the things that keeps a relationship good, is romance. If you shit in front of one another, the romance is dead. How can you possible fancy a shag when you've seen your other half on the lav? Would you not see The Poo Face every time you looked at them? Some things are best kept private, and this is one of them. The American One thinks it's a lovely sign of how comfortable they are with one another...I think they are just TOO comfortable.
Dita Von Teese and Marilyn Manson apparently had their own individual bathrooms. That is ideal. of course, we cannot all have that, so I'd recommend just keeping your toileting activity to yourself. Nobody else needs to see it.
For some couples, though, who are into poo sharing, may I suggest a twobicle?
Sunday, 17 June 2012
Tampon Adverts.
These have troubled me for quite some time, for a couple of reasons.
Firstly... to the companies that disguise tampons in sort of sweetie wrappers. That's great. But surely the reason you do it, is so that boys don't know what they are if they peek in your bag? This doesn't work if you then plaster the fact that your tampons are in disguise all over the telly. With images.
Secondly...as a girl, if you drop your handbag and a hundred tampons fall out, a handsome boy never, EVER helps pick them up and falls in love with you over your feminine hygiene products. What actually happens, is that he sees what you've dropped, realises that you're probably "on" (because he's seen the adverts, so the clever disguise hasn't worked), and freaks the fuck out because he expects a full-on PMT fuelled tantrum. Probably.
Tuesday, 12 June 2012
Playground romance
Something that really irritates me. Day 1: Boy meets Girl
Day 2: Boy asks girl out. Boy "loves" girl. Girl "loves" boy.
Day 3: Boy and Girl split up.
...repeat, with different partners, over and over.
It's alright at school...still slightly retarded but we let you off.
When you're in your twenties/thirties etc? Fuck off, you absolute morons. That's not love. That's desire to get into one anothers undergarments. There's a difference.
Perverted Squirrel
Keep finding stashes of condoms dotted around my flat in the most peculiar places. I didn't put them there. Ex obviously stashed them, like a little perverted squirrel.
Monday, 11 June 2012
Even more "How Not To Impress A Woman"
I keep coming across more of the screenshots I've taken of men doing it wrong.
This morning
Took my Nan to Tesco this morning. Lost her somewhere, so called out. From the next aisle, I heard "I've gone round the bend!". And she wasn't wrong.
Over Christmas, we were doing some shopping at House of Fraser. The parking was running out, so we thought we'd better get going. On the way, a lady on the perfume stand asked my Nan if there was anything she could help with. Her reply? "Sorry, I'm living on borrowed time!". Perfume girl looked most concerned.
Over Christmas, we were doing some shopping at House of Fraser. The parking was running out, so we thought we'd better get going. On the way, a lady on the perfume stand asked my Nan if there was anything she could help with. Her reply? "Sorry, I'm living on borrowed time!". Perfume girl looked most concerned.
Sunday, 10 June 2012
Addition to earlier entry...
Earlier on I posted an entry about how not to impress a woman. I've just got into bed and received a message which has prompted this addition.
Do not send an introductory message that starts "hi, i know I'm ugly but...".
I think I know why you may do it - so that when we are expecting the elephant man and see a relatively normal looking man, we will be really pleasantly surprised - and also fishing for compliments.
What actually happens is that:
a)we believe you and don't even look, or;
b)we think you're probably depressed, unconfident, and possibly even suicidal.
Smile. Be happy. It makes the world of difference. You instantly become MUCH more attractive.
Night!
Do not send an introductory message that starts "hi, i know I'm ugly but...".
I think I know why you may do it - so that when we are expecting the elephant man and see a relatively normal looking man, we will be really pleasantly surprised - and also fishing for compliments.
What actually happens is that:
a)we believe you and don't even look, or;
b)we think you're probably depressed, unconfident, and possibly even suicidal.
Smile. Be happy. It makes the world of difference. You instantly become MUCH more attractive.
Night!
Murray
My mum and I met a chap called Murray, he has a boat on the river near where she lives. We just met him the once. The next day we walked past again, and he got out of the cabin and waved. My mum called "can't stop Murray, I'm dying for a shit", waved and marched on.
I find this amusing.
I find this amusing.
Clearing a few things up.
I decided to ask men what puzzles them about women, in order to hopefully clear a few things up; or at least attempt to.
What is the issue with the toilet seat?
Actually, I don't get this one either so this isn't a good place for me to start. Boys have to put it up, so girls should have to put it down. Really though, the lid should go down before you've flushed to stop all the germs from whatever you've just deposited being released into the air.
Why do you say you're fine when you're obviously not?
There are a few answers to this one. Personally. I use it if I'm a bit pissed off, but not enough to bring it up and have a row; I'd rather just be left to forget about it. If I'm really pissed off, I will tell you.
Often though, I think it might be a little test. If you really care, you'll push to find out.
Catherine thinks it's an acronym:
Fucked up
Insecure
Neurotic, and
Emotional.
Fine is what you say when you're really not ok but don't want to admit it.
That might also be true.
Why are girls so clingy?
This isn't really a matter of "girls are clingy and boys aren't". I've met some very clingy boys. I know a lot of girls who aren't clingy. It's just that some people are and some people aren't. I think generally, insecure people are more clingy. That's their issue. It might help if you reassure them etc, but it probably won't. Clingy types are probably best clinging together.
Why do girls like boys? Most of us are pretty screwed up!
Speaking for myself; you look after us. I'm very old fashioned - I think girls have their uses, and boys have theirs. If I'm frightened, all I really want is a cuddle with a nice man, and I will feel better. If I'm putting up a bookshelf, I can do it myself, but there's something very sexy about a bloke doing DIY. It's just manly. Personally, I also like "looking after" a man. Doing the things he's not so good at - making packed lunches, washing, ironing. I like those things.
Why are girls threatened if you have female friends?
Not strictly true. More insecure girls are threatened if you have female friends. For most of us, it depends on your behaviour. Being secretive about female friends is a surefire way to make us wonder. On the opposite end of the scale, constantly talking about one female friend will also make us sit up and watch you like a hawk. Again though, this isn't just girls. I've had boyfriends get very, very jealous of my close male friends.
Having said that, speaking from personal experience, I've actually been more wary of men since I've been single. That is because I get a lot of, ahem, requests, from men in relationships (see "Tricking an Old Flame", for example.) This gives the impression that you do in fact, think with your todgers. That's not cool. Offer your services to every girl you find remotely attractive, whilst you're in a relationship, and chances are, if that relationship breaks down, you will find yourself totally Undateable in the eyes of any girl with common sense. If you're willing to do it to her, you'll sure as hell be willing to do it to us.
Why do girls do poo like rabbit droppings?
Um. Right. Pebble poos are often a sign of a low fibre diet. Again, not sure if this is restricted to girls. I don't tend to examine poos.
Why do women think that because one guy screwed them over, all other guys will do the same?
Logical ones don't think like that. It's more a case of being more wary of being hurt - if somebody hurts us in a relationship, we don't want to be hurt the same again, so we will tread carefully. It's not a case of "boys are arseholes", at all.
Why do women moan that they want a nice guy, then when they find one, moan that nice guys are boring?
This goes a little deeper. Bad boys are exciting and more sexually attractive to us for several reasons. Generally: they are confident. They're exciting and adventurous. They're a little bit mysterious. They're indifferent, which means that they have a higher success rate with women, because they aren't afraid to try. They give us a sense of power, because if we can tame a badboy, we must be the absolute shiz! Badboys are masculine - they look you in the eye, they're not afraid to take control. The trouble with nice guys, is that they often don't try. Boys who are overly nice, can come across as too feminine. They don't take control enough. There's a nice balance, but unfortunately, guys often tend to be one or the other.
In hindsight, I might not be the ideal girl to answer these questions. I think like a man in many respects. But I think generally, I do get it. So make of it what you will!
What is the issue with the toilet seat?
Actually, I don't get this one either so this isn't a good place for me to start. Boys have to put it up, so girls should have to put it down. Really though, the lid should go down before you've flushed to stop all the germs from whatever you've just deposited being released into the air.
Why do you say you're fine when you're obviously not?
There are a few answers to this one. Personally. I use it if I'm a bit pissed off, but not enough to bring it up and have a row; I'd rather just be left to forget about it. If I'm really pissed off, I will tell you.
Often though, I think it might be a little test. If you really care, you'll push to find out.
Catherine thinks it's an acronym:
Fucked up
Insecure
Neurotic, and
Emotional.
Fine is what you say when you're really not ok but don't want to admit it.
That might also be true.
Why are girls so clingy?
This isn't really a matter of "girls are clingy and boys aren't". I've met some very clingy boys. I know a lot of girls who aren't clingy. It's just that some people are and some people aren't. I think generally, insecure people are more clingy. That's their issue. It might help if you reassure them etc, but it probably won't. Clingy types are probably best clinging together.
Why do girls like boys? Most of us are pretty screwed up!
Speaking for myself; you look after us. I'm very old fashioned - I think girls have their uses, and boys have theirs. If I'm frightened, all I really want is a cuddle with a nice man, and I will feel better. If I'm putting up a bookshelf, I can do it myself, but there's something very sexy about a bloke doing DIY. It's just manly. Personally, I also like "looking after" a man. Doing the things he's not so good at - making packed lunches, washing, ironing. I like those things.
Why are girls threatened if you have female friends?
Not strictly true. More insecure girls are threatened if you have female friends. For most of us, it depends on your behaviour. Being secretive about female friends is a surefire way to make us wonder. On the opposite end of the scale, constantly talking about one female friend will also make us sit up and watch you like a hawk. Again though, this isn't just girls. I've had boyfriends get very, very jealous of my close male friends.
Having said that, speaking from personal experience, I've actually been more wary of men since I've been single. That is because I get a lot of, ahem, requests, from men in relationships (see "Tricking an Old Flame", for example.) This gives the impression that you do in fact, think with your todgers. That's not cool. Offer your services to every girl you find remotely attractive, whilst you're in a relationship, and chances are, if that relationship breaks down, you will find yourself totally Undateable in the eyes of any girl with common sense. If you're willing to do it to her, you'll sure as hell be willing to do it to us.
Why do girls do poo like rabbit droppings?
Um. Right. Pebble poos are often a sign of a low fibre diet. Again, not sure if this is restricted to girls. I don't tend to examine poos.
Why do women think that because one guy screwed them over, all other guys will do the same?
Logical ones don't think like that. It's more a case of being more wary of being hurt - if somebody hurts us in a relationship, we don't want to be hurt the same again, so we will tread carefully. It's not a case of "boys are arseholes", at all.
Why do women moan that they want a nice guy, then when they find one, moan that nice guys are boring?
This goes a little deeper. Bad boys are exciting and more sexually attractive to us for several reasons. Generally: they are confident. They're exciting and adventurous. They're a little bit mysterious. They're indifferent, which means that they have a higher success rate with women, because they aren't afraid to try. They give us a sense of power, because if we can tame a badboy, we must be the absolute shiz! Badboys are masculine - they look you in the eye, they're not afraid to take control. The trouble with nice guys, is that they often don't try. Boys who are overly nice, can come across as too feminine. They don't take control enough. There's a nice balance, but unfortunately, guys often tend to be one or the other.
In hindsight, I might not be the ideal girl to answer these questions. I think like a man in many respects. But I think generally, I do get it. So make of it what you will!
The Story behind "Shitstick"
In my intro, I mentioned that I call my best friend "Shitstick". I also said that I would explain this at a later date, so here you go.
My mum has a little dog called Lucy. My nan looks after the dog a fair bit, because she is retired and she loves her.
One afternoon, my Nan took a trip to town. She went round M&S (her favourite), House of Fraser, the usual slightly more upmarket places. After she'd had a look round the shops, she went to visit her mum, my Great Nan. I call her G Nan.
When she arrived at my G Nan's. she put her handbag down and got her lipstick out of her bag. When she put it to her face however, she discovered she was actually clutching a little "gift" that Lucy had left in there. She had indeed been walking about with a dog shit in her bag. She hadn't seen Lucy for a couple of days, so it must have been in there for about 48 hours.
The funniest bit though, is that when she and my Great Nan saw what it actually was, G Nan called out "Oh! It wasn't me, Viv!". Yes. Because when one finds a turd in ones handbag, you do automatically assume that your mother must've done it.
From then on, Bestie has called me Shitlips, and I have called her Shitstick.
My mum has a little dog called Lucy. My nan looks after the dog a fair bit, because she is retired and she loves her.
One afternoon, my Nan took a trip to town. She went round M&S (her favourite), House of Fraser, the usual slightly more upmarket places. After she'd had a look round the shops, she went to visit her mum, my Great Nan. I call her G Nan.
When she arrived at my G Nan's. she put her handbag down and got her lipstick out of her bag. When she put it to her face however, she discovered she was actually clutching a little "gift" that Lucy had left in there. She had indeed been walking about with a dog shit in her bag. She hadn't seen Lucy for a couple of days, so it must have been in there for about 48 hours.
The funniest bit though, is that when she and my Great Nan saw what it actually was, G Nan called out "Oh! It wasn't me, Viv!". Yes. Because when one finds a turd in ones handbag, you do automatically assume that your mother must've done it.
From then on, Bestie has called me Shitlips, and I have called her Shitstick.
How Not To Impress A Woman.
This is a post that really needs to be done.I have decided to do it right now because I just received this, from a friend of a friend, to whom I have never given any inkling that I would like his fingers anywhere near any part of my body.
. .
This isn't the only one....
Suggesting we may be open to prostitution - FAIL.
Just wrong, but at least he's sort of honest. Not from his girlfriends perspective though.
If he'd done his research, he'd be aware that Billie Jean was actually a bit mental. As a friend said, "he wants you to falsely accuse him of fathering your child?".
No words necessary.
This one made me laugh, just for totally the wrong reasons.
I'll stop there, but you get the idea.
So just a few pointers.
- we don't expect you to be interested in fake tan, nail polish etc. In return, we would appreciate it if you could steer clear of trying to discuss your new alloys, or how you've lowered your car an inch.
- Terms of endearment are something that comes with time. "baby gurl" etc should NOT be used in your introduction.
- Do not suggest that we may be open to immediate sexual encounters with you. If we want it, you'll know about it.
- Do not presume that as she isn't interested in having sex with you for free, she might be interested in making some money off it. There are special places you can go for that sort of thing. Look out for "local, sexy, discrete massage parlours" in your local newspaper. That's what you're looking for.
Generally, be polite, be interested in their lives, open up a little about yours. We like a little bit of banter, but don't go in too harsh or we won't know where we stand. Don't stare at our tits. The occasional appreciative glance is ace, just remember to look away from there when she's talking to you. Be funny and charming, and don't make assumptions. Above all, BE NORMAL. Just a normal human being who is able to show some respect to the opposite sex. We appreciate that.
As a side note, I feel it would be helpful to let you know that girls don't think willies are pretty. Unless we like the rest of you, we don't want to see your todger. A month or so ago, a guy I hadn't spoken to in months sent me a random picture of his erect penis. No words, just his penis. This doesn't prove you to be a normal human being. It does nothing to entice us. It gives us something to have a chuckle about with friends over coffee. That is all. If you are our boyfriend, we probably think your willy is absolutely lovely. If you're not, it just looks like a naked mole rat. You should also be aware that sheer size isn't THAT important to us. If you're blessed in that department, you still need to make an effort in the bedroom. We'd rather a highly skilled lovemaker with a slightly below average willy, than someone with one that looks as if it could emerge from your nostril upon entry, but who has no skills. With this in mind, please note that telling us you have "a massive 9 inch cock" means absolutely NOTHING to us. It ain't what you got, it's what you do with it.
 |
| A naked mole rat. |
Love this blog! Kidnapped by Catwoman
Kidnapped by Catwoman: Formative Fantasy and Fetish Fuel Number One: Hatt...: This is the first of a series of posts where I'll be taking a look at scenes from mainstream films I saw as a kid that I believe contribut...
Saturday, 9 June 2012
Nita Lumiere
I have come across the BEST agony aunt type on Facebook. Nita Lumiere. I added her yesterday and have seen all sorts, from cupcake willies to crossdressing willy tucking :D
Turns out she has a website too - http://www.nitalumiere.com/ Have a look!
Turns out she has a website too - http://www.nitalumiere.com/ Have a look!
Total Financial Domination.
A couple of weeks ago, I watched a programme on TV called "Sex, Lies and Rinsing Guys" and I found it all totally bizarre. I also felt like the women had their morals all wrong, and that the blokes were somehow kind of vulnerable, and the whole thing was just plain wrong.
In case you're not familiar with it, Financial Domination is sort of like prostitution without sex or any of those bits. Young women maintain regular contact with often older, wealthy guys, and will chat with them on webcam (fully clothed), speak with them on the phone, and meet up with them to go shopping. The men enjoy spending their money and often being ridiculed by these women. It's almost not seedy at all, but it still doesn't sit right with me.
Not long after watching this, I received a message from a chap called Daniel, who was actively seeking somebody to dominate him financially. I chatted to him, out of interest really. I have no intention of doing this - as I said, it doesn't sit right with me.
In the course of our short chat, he asked me if he was allowed to call me "Miss". He asked what brands of clothing I like, where I like to get my hair done, where do I get my shoes and handbags from, what makeup do I like. All these sorts of questions. He said, and I quote, "I would love to buy you outfits and dress you up ready to go on dates with fit young men". It was at this point that my brain just melted. Not only do these Financially Submissive guys not want anything sexual from you - other than the odd "telling off" - they actually want you to go and date other men and do God knows what else with them..
I started off feeling sorry for these men, like they were being taken advantage of. This obviously isn't the case. I won't be taking him up on his offer - it's not my cup of tea. But after reading all the negativity directed at the women who do, it makes me wonder if it isn't just out of pure jealousy.
Whether or not it's as harmless as it sounds is beyond me; for all I know, the men could begin to expect more from their women.
I still don't understand the men's desire to be "rinsed" though. Not one little bit.
Arsebreath
This is probably one of my favourite status updates ever. A "friend" (after the experience, I presumed that she must in fact HATE me) set me up on a date with a guy who she said was a real catch.
He was quite fit. He was perfectly polite. Unfortunately, there was the most repulsive stench oozing from every pore of his being. When he went to the toilet, I was relieved that I had the opportunity to request help from my friends. I was also hopeful that he might return a little less smelly. Alas, he was just as pungent upon his return. For not far off an hour, I sat there as he talked at me about his flappy paddle gearbox (wasted on me, I have no idea what that even is). Eventually, my mobile buzzed into action - I received 6 emergency texts from different people, all at the same time. "Oh no, There's an emergency. I'd better dash!".
Now, this hadn't been a successful date by any stretch of the imagination, even without the stink. I was bored out of my mind, and he can't have been enjoying my lack of interest - I'm truly rubbish at pretending to listen. When he "let one go", my eyes were absolutely streaming - it was truly the worst fart I have ever been unfortunate enough to smell. It was on a par with the Global Gathering 2010 toilets on the last day. But as I stood up to leave, he also stood up, and leaned in for a kiss. On the lips. I was pretty damn proud of holding in the vomit thus far, but I shall be eternally impressed and amazed by my ability not to chunder at this point. "I'd love to see you again", he suggested. "Thanks!" (what else could I have said without being totally mean?)
Once I was home, I was able to laugh at the situation. My friends had enjoyed the story on Facebook, many of them speculating that perhaps he'd gone to the toilets to change his relationship status to "In A Relationship". I took a very, VERY hot shower - I was worried that I could have absorbed the smell - and checked my phone. A text from Arsebreath. I thought perhaps it would just be a polite "Nice to meet you". No, he did actually want another date.
Once I was home, I was able to laugh at the situation. My friends had enjoyed the story on Facebook, many of them speculating that perhaps he'd gone to the toilets to change his relationship status to "In A Relationship". I took a very, VERY hot shower - I was worried that I could have absorbed the smell - and checked my phone. A text from Arsebreath. I thought perhaps it would just be a polite "Nice to meet you". No, he did actually want another date.
I replied bluntly, but politely. Something along the lines of "It was nice to meet you, but I don't think we'll see each other again. I didn't feel we were compatible. Take Care".
THAT was the reply. I don't even know what to say. If I'd been bluntly rejected, albeit politely, I'm not sure I'd ask for feedback. I can HONESTLY say, we did not "connect" on any level whatsoever. "Hope this clarifies things"?! Clarifies what?
I've heard from him a couple of times, but he hasn't made a nuisance of himself. I feel a little bad - he was a very pleasant chap and perhaps just has a phobia of toothbrushes. Unfortunately, poor oral hygiene is something I simply cannot look past.
Something that puzzled me...surgeons wear masks. Surely he must've smelt his own breath in one of those?!
L xx
Tricking an Old Flame...
There’s this guy I know. I met him a few years back at a party, and through my Vodka Goggles, I thought he looked just like Joaquin Phoenix. He got a girlfriend, they had a couple of kids, they split up, and he got back in touch. A few messages a week were exchanged - nothing very exciting.
Yesterday, I received the following, totally out of the blue. What followed was comedy that nobody could ever dream up. Names have been disguised, but that’s all....
Now, I discussed this with the girls. I had no idea what to say. In the end I responded “well...thanks”. Then one of them had a genius idea. He had included his telephone number...
This was when I decided to step up and play Megan. I changed my voice and recorded the call.
If you’ve listened to it, the next bit is probably the funniest of all. First of all, I received a text from him, inviting me to do some modelling with him. I declined. He then started sending me more messages.
As much as this makes me piss laughing, there is something I found very sad, and that’s the fact that as of 3 days ago, he is officially “In A Relationship”. Morally, I feel that I ought to show her this. Selfishly though, I’m not sure I can do that to her, I don’t know her, but still. A friend I was discussing this with yesterday thinks I just need to do it now, save her more pain in the future. What are the chances of a guy like this staying faithful? Low, I’d say.
L xx
Friday, 8 June 2012
Intro...
So. I’ve been meaning to start a blog for quite some time, but for one reason or another, have never got round to it. Today, I experienced something so totally pisspantsworthy that it spurred me on to do it. I won’t reveal what that was just yet. I think a bit of background is a good place to start.
I am staying anonymous-ish, because I do not want the people I talk about to be known without their say-so. I recently turned 24, and I live alone in a rather nice part of England, in the middle of the town. I am very set in my likes and dislikes, which I shall list below, as I think you get a good idea of a person from their likes and dislikes. Much of my blog will probably end up being about men, but by no means am I anti-men or a feminist. Quite the opposite. I adore the simplicity of men. I often find women, apart from my close group of friends, complicated, bitchy things who frequently bore me with their talk of fake tan and dresses. This is hypocritical, because in some aspects I am very girlie. I like to wear make-up, and do my nails, and all the other sorts of things - I just don’t generally like to discuss them. A very close friend of mine, who sadly passed away almost exactly one year ago, used to call me “a peculiar little hybrid type woman”, and he was probably right. But aren’t we all? I’m totally single, and that’s OK. I’m fine with it. It will be nice to meet someone, but I am in no hurry, and I absolutely will not settle for something or someone that I’m not totally into. I am on a dating site, not because I want or expect to find anything serious, but because it gives me endless amusement, and sometimes it’s nice to have a little look, Just In Case.
Right. Let’s get my likes and dislikes cleared up.
Likes:
Wine
Paul Weller/The Jam/The Style Council
Bruce Springsteen
Oasis
Kings of Leon
Drum and Bass (mid-late 90's especially)
Electro
Cuddles
House
Karl Pilkington
Brass Eye
Horror movies/thrillers/action
Interesting crime
Southern Comfort and Lemonade - double.
Rain
QI
Red shoes
False nails
Stephen Fry
David Attenborough
Good spelling and grammar; proper English!
The 1955 Good Wife Guide
Things that don't "go"
Stand up comedy
Funny boys
Banter
False eyelashes
Xbox
A bit of football
A bit of rugby
Dislikes:
Michael Buble
Grownups who are all into Disney
Chick flicks
Feminists (by this, I mean hardcore feminists who are basically anti-men. That's not equality.)
Jason Derulo (that bloke who can't even say his name without autotune)
Stringy bacon
Lee Evans
Lee Nelson
Girls drinking pints
Tequila
Being too hot
The only way is Essex etc
Colour schemes
There will almost certainly be things to add to this list, but for now, that will do. You get the idea.
I would also like to give a bit of information about the people who have inspired me to write this. Despite Facebook’s obvious downfalls, I love how you can “meet” people you perhaps never would in The Real World. I love how you can keep in touch with people when you or they move away. You can find old friends and old flames, even relatives you have never met. It is through Facebook that I have met the group of Girls who have inspired me to set my blog up. In short, every single one of them is My Kind Of Girl. Independent, funny in a way that is so bloody intelligent it will melt your brain (although they’re not afraid to laugh at poo...) , strong - and I don’t mean strong “for women”, I mean STRONG, beautiful, and generally fucking ace. With these girls, I have overcome a majorly fucked up bit of my life, and even more importantly in my opinion, I have laughed so hard I have frequently found myself in tears, or so close to wetting myself I should probably invest in a pack of Tena Lady pants. They will be known by false names of course, but they know who they are.
Then there are The Real World friends.
The Bestie, who I call Shitstick. There is a reason for this. which I will go into at some point. This is the one that in lots of ways is like the friend version of a soulmate (I hate that word too). She is the one who tells me if I’m being an absolute twat, and vice versa. I love her little one, and the one to come, as if they were real, proper, close relatives. I love Shitstick like this, too.
Then there’s The American One. She is pretty mental, and I love her dearly for it. She can’t spell for shit, which I sort of hate her for. I sometimes wonder if she fancies me a bit, but she’s actually married to a lovely man, who I also consider to be one of my best friends. A friend of all of ours, who I shall call MixTape, is one of my favourite boys in the world. We phone each other and sing shit songs. He makes me laugh so that my face hurts.
And there’s the one I refer to as my “Bro”. He isn’t my real brother, but he can be if he wants. I don’t have any brothers, but if I got to pick one, I’d pick him. He’s absolutely Batshit Mental - this has been confirmed by professionals - and he has a heart of absolute gold. He has a lovely lady and beautiful little ones.
This probably all sounds totally irrelevant. It probably IS totally irrelevant. What I wanted to do was give as much background as possible. What will follow from now on, is best described as an out of sync diary, really. I’ve got 24 years worth of stuff jam-packed in my head, And it’ll spill out onto my page in whatever-order-it-fucking-well-wants.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)