Showing posts with label huge penis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label huge penis. Show all posts

Monday, 14 November 2016

Women are brilliant! Literally, the sweetest thing

As we’ve probably discussed on many, many occasions before today… I love women. I think they’re bloody wonderful. No really – It might not be politically correct this week, it might have been decided over the weekend that using a word only containing the letters ‘W’, ‘O’, ‘M’, ‘N’ with an ‘E’ or an ‘A’ banged in near the end is misogynistic, or that you’re not allowed to use it as a massively descriptive epithet unless you have the open-plan reproductive plumbing that so traditionally identifies one as a woman.

But, in general – Absolutely brilliant.  Pretty much every one of us had had intimate contact with one at some point in their life (In some cases this can only been guaranteed around the first breath or so, whether you were squeezed or sliced out. But still…) – the same cannot be said about men – No matter how close you were to your Father – Not that I’m judging, it’s not my place.

There are, in my personal opinion at least, as many different kinds of women as there are women.  I know confident women, and ones who are very much less so. I know women who embrace classicism and strain to be at the upper limits of perceived physical beauty at all times, and I know ones who wear their onesies to ASDA/Walmart. I know award-winning female teachers and scientists and I know women who clean other people’s toilets and still manage to run a household with less energy than I expend changing my socks.  I know women who take off their clothes for money and fame. And I know ones are deathly embarrassed about going to the doctors with ‘Mimsy Issues’. I know women who front successful rock bands and I know women who married a lead guitarist.  I know women who drive Artic-trucks and eat Yorkies, or ride motorcycles and wear leather.

I know women who like me, and women that don’t.

I know… Well, knew… Women who gave their lives for the good of others, and I’ve known women who had their lives unfairly snatched from them by disease or thoughtless accidents.   I’ve experienced unbelievable selflessness from women, and I’d be wrong to say that I’d not experienced selfishness. They’re human after all you know.

What I’m trying to say is this… The people I’ve described in this are just people I actually know, people I’ve actually met and interacted with in some way in real life.  They’re not famous people (well, some of them are I suppose, when you think about it, in certain circles.) they’re real people, the type of people you’d find behind every front door in the world. (In the countries that traditionally have front doors that is, before you start) I know these people… And I’m a nobody in the grand scheme of things.  Imagine if I cast my woman net into a wider sea? If I included all the women that currently exist – What type of woman could I identify then?

Women who’ve gone to space, women who’ve raised huge families and fought against adversity, women who’ve survived (and fought in) immoral and illegal wars.  World leaders, farmers, members of law enforcement and rescue services. Sports personalities, Entertainment stars… The list is, quite literally, endless – The number of things that men can do, but women physically or mentally cannot do is bordering on non-existent.

So, bearing all this in mind…

Why did the women’s periodical ‘Glamour’ magazine, in its ‘Ten most influential women of the year 2016’ list, included a ‘ringer’? OK, last year, they declared Caitlyn Jenner Woman of the year – Which caused something of a furore as you might remember.  I have no real feelings on this to be honest, other than knowing for sure, in my heart of hearts, that that’s not how you bloody spell the name Kaitlin. Wait. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves though, here’s the list:
  
  • Gwen Stefani – Singer, Clothes designer, Mother to children whose names would make a Shoreditch childminder salivate uncontrollably and most importantly, woman
  • Simone Biles – (Although the Glamour website calls her Simon) Olympian, Gymnast, soon to be Writer… Also a woman
  • Patrisse Cullors, Alicia Garza, and Opal Tometi - the Founders of Black Lives Matter *cough* women, all of them *cough*
  • Ashley Graham – Plus-Size model and Body Activist… See if you can take on punt on her sex – It’s not a trick question.
  • Christine Lagarde – The first female Finance Minister of France
  • Nadia Murad – ISIS survivor and Human Rights Activist
  • Miuccia Prada – You all know PRADA right? Yeah, all her idea
  • Zendaya – A mega-Instagrammer with 32 Million followers (Who I admit to never having heard of) She’s an Anti-Bullying advocate and soon to be Movie Star
  • “Emily Doe” – The girl who was savagely raped by Stanford Rapist Brock Turner as she lay unconscious behind a dumpster.

A shining list, I’m sure you’ll agree, I can see why all of those women have been named and I understand the reasoning behind it… But if you count, there are only nine names there. The tenth, I don’t get… I mean I appreciate it’s advertising, and that’s the kind of world we live in and innovation requires change… But… Well, I’m just going to come out and say it.

The tenth name, on the ‘Ten most influential women list’… And I shit you not loyal readers…

Bono

Bono, off of U2 – Now, I know that he single-handedly cured world hunger, and I know he once chartered a plane to bring his hat (or a pair of sunglasses or something equally meaningless) to a gig because he’d forgotted it and he was having some sort of self-righteous panic attack. And I know that he… Erm… He… To be honest, apart from him influencing the popularity of bug-eye sunglasses, I don’t know or care that much about him. I mean he’s done a lot for AIDS research, and he’s raised pots of cash and all but as far as I know, he still has a (and is regarded by many people as a massive) penis… He doesn’t even identify as a woman… He’s a man, a bloke, a geezer – If he wanted to be a woman he’d have to squeeze his nadgers between his thighs like Buffalo Bill in Silence of the Lambs (or pretty much every boy in the changing rooms at school)

He’s not a woman!

He can’t be a Woman of the Year (OK, in his entry in the list it says ‘Man of the Year’, but the list itself is actually called ‘Women of the Year’)

Dear Gods, I’m a middle-aged heterosexual white male whose first language is English – I literally embody the patriarchy - And even I think this is mental... Am I just not getting it?
Am I too 'Mainstream'? What do you guys think?

Wednesday, 1 May 2013

A Rose by any other name...

...Would still prick you with its thorns.
(C) Joseph M. Monks 1989.

So, what's in a name Eh?

It's how you're known to the world at large isn't it? Your given name, the one your parents give you after you're born, the one you put on job applications, can be a bit of an albatross around your neck can't it? Especially if your parents don't really think far enough ahead.

I'm sure that there are hundreds of Richard Heads in the world and any number of Josephine Kings.  Hugot Jarses are hiding under every rug and Peter Files are skulking behind every twitching curtain.

Of course, being of the male persuasion (ostensibly at least) I don't have to suffer the indignity of having a new surname foist upon me when I marry (Unless someone suggests that hateful double-barreled shenanigens, and quite frankly, I wouldn't stand for it - Unless my Surname was Baycun and my bride-to-be's was Moore, then of course I'd insist upon it, as any right thinking Englishman would).  So miss Mabel Hoskins should never get entwined with Benjamin Cable for instance.  In fact, I have a good friend who managed to saddle his wife with a married name that I consider her a saint for managing to bear on a daily basis.  If you have read the James Josiah Flash Project (and if not, why not?) You may be aware of the occasional literary outpourings of a certain Mr Nathan Spong... He married a wonderful young lady whose first name just happened to be Victoria... Told you, she's a saint...

Then we have Nicknames, often given to us at school, often cruel and often stickier than a hot octopus made of glue flavoured toffee.

Now, I was quite lucky at school, my surname is one of those that lends itself easily to just having a 'Y' stuck on the end of it, in a sort of 'Smithy' or 'Jonesy' Stylee.  And, as kids are mostly lazy, I was called that for a number of years.  Then someone replaced the 'sey' with a 'bo' so I became 'Grimbo' for a time, which always struck me as a little derogatory for some reason... One of my more well-read chums had a go at changing it to 'Grimer Wormtongue', but thankfully, he wasn't particularly successful.  My school life wasn't great...

Is it any wonder that some of us give ourselves alternative names?  You might be suprised to find out that The Chimping Dandy is not what it says on my Birth Certificate (It say Alphonse McTavish Shandytrousers-Humpleton-Grainger for those who are interested, in red marker-pen, diagonally).  A lot of people have an alternative personality for the time they spend on the Internet (weirdos like us lot mostly) They can be used to advertise your aspirations, to hide your Internet mumblings from people who know you in real life, or just so that you can pretend to be someone you're not with more money, a better career, or more interestingly dimensioned genitalia.

This is not my first Nom-de-Net you know... For an awfully long time I was a chap called LowLevel, posting on various message boards and online games.  Believe it or not, even my nickname got a nickname.  I had a number of young ladies who called me 'Ellie' (and this was a long time before the whole Anakin Skywalker / Annie debacle) And a nice Spanish lady used to refer to me as 'Lowlevelito'

I got that particular name from an old Army Buddy, who commented once about me sitting in the corner at a party, quietly listening to everything going on, he accused me of 'Low-Level intelligence gathering', and it just sort of stuck.

Then, when I worked for a popular (but again, sadly defunct) Childrens' clothing retailer, I got nicknamed 'Vet' because I'd been doing the job a while, wore a manky combat jacket a large proportion of the time and used to sit in the office sharpening a buck-knife with my tongue and claiming to all and sundry that 'I ain't got time to bleed.'

There was also one girl at a place I worked at a REALLY long time ago that called me 'Master' but that wasn't strictly a work nickname... *cough*

Anywho, picking yourself a new name is an important business - It needs to say things about you, let people know what they're getting, give a feeling of the type of interaction people they can expect...

Therefore I've decided that the pen-name that I'm going to use for my upcoming book is...

Wait for it...

Mr. Kyle D'Thrust...

You know what you're getting from a man with the name Mr. Kyle D'Thrust...