Showing posts with label sexuality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sexuality. Show all posts

Tuesday, 8 July 2008

Great comment

I've had a great comment:

A tramp who wanted to fuck a tramp... what a story.

You're a fucking ugly cunt, I've seen you around.


Really? Where?

I can't stand your pathetic blog, you cannot write for shit


Ok, you're entitled to your own opinion n all, but in real life I am a professional writer.

and you come off as an angry vicious cunt.


What, for not accepting patriarchal oppression like a good girl? I have a personality, I'm sorry if that offends you. Actually, no I'm not.

Any wonder the only people that want to fuck you are homeless!


Actually, lots of non-homeless people have recently expressed a desire to fuck me. Some of them were dickwads, most of them were nice guys who I didn't happen to fancy, and one of them was utterly wonderful. And much as it is nice to be considered fuckable, I don't really agree that my worth is defined by it.

Shut your fucking mouth... better yet stick a tramp's cock in it and do what you were born to do you fat slut.


Ooooh, you used the F-word, I'm scared!

You really are a piece of work there sweet tits. I wouldn't fuck you with a ten foot pole.


That's good, I'm not sure I want to be fucked with a ten foot pole.

There are far less crazy skanks out there can take cock and not complain.


Au contraire, I very much like cocks when they're attached to men who I find attractive. And if I were a lesbian, I'd have nothing to do with cocks at all, which is something you really shouldn't have a problem with.

You are absolutely fucking fucked.

Whatever you're going to label me now you slimy fish smelling cunt... remember... I have really seen you around... really... so fucking think. Really think. You cunt.


So...you're allowed to call me a "slimy fish smelling cunt" but I'm not allowed to say anything back to you because you've "seen me around"? Is that a threat? What are you going to do? Fuck me with that ten foot pole of yours? I don't think you have seen me around. Nobody I know would talk to anyone like that even on the internet, and although it's entirely conceivable that someone might find me ugly, I'm definitely not fat. And if you really are so big and clever and not scared of a little cunt like me, why don't you tell me who you are?

I don't know anything about this person. They might not even be a genuine misogynist - it could be someone who for some reason has something personal against me. All I can say about them is that they want me to feel hurt by this, and so I think it's worth examining how they have gone about it, and the material used to achieve their aims.

  • "You're ugly" is considered a terrible insult
  • "You're fat" is considered a terrible insult
  • "I don't want to fuck you" is considered a terrible insult
  • "You suck cock" is considered a terrible insult
  • "You can't take cock" is considered a terrible insult

    These really are the classic one-size-fits-all female insults. Want to make a woman feel bad about herself? Tell her she's ugly and fat. Want to make her feel humiliated? Attack her sexuality. It's simple really. We live in a society that places a disproportionately massive amount of importance on a woman's appearance, her sexual availability and her chastity (all that virgin/whore schtick, we really can't win however we behave, so just fuck who you want, sisters) and so if you want to insult a woman, just pick on those things and you're sure to hit the target. If anyone ever says anything like this to you, it's worth bearing all this in mind. Insults like this are very unlikely to be an accurate reflection of your personal qualities.

    Strangely enough, if this man doesn't want to fuck me, I'm quite happy with that. I sure as hell don't want to fuck him either.
  • Tuesday, 1 April 2008

    Shoes

    A couple of years ago I was on a quick lunchtime shoe shopping binge with a colleague. She picked up a pair of high heels, turned them round, and put them back on the shelf with a distasteful, "Eurgh, they've got lesbian heels." Since the heels in question were of a clumpy nature I guess she was buying into the idea that gay women wear ugly shoes and thus are ugly women. Since when did women's shoes become so ridiculously fetishised? How did it come to pass that there is a style of shoe associated with being an unattractive individual? In a way, it's kind of liberating - you can control how attractive people think of you as being by changing your shoes. But it's also just plain weird. And it royally sucks that in order to be considered "attractive" you have to be uncomfortable.

    Why must our sexual attractiveness be tied up in being uncomfortable? Why is a woman teetering in stilettos more attractive than a woman walking confidently in trainers? Why is "sexy" underwear made of scratchy lace, "chicken fillets" and what a male friend of mine charmingly refers to as "arse floss"? Why is it so difficult to find nice, pretty underwear that doesn't involve "arse floss"?

    In so many cultures throughout history, a woman's attractiveness has been directly related to how uncomfortable, and in extreme cases how disabled, she is. There was foot binding, which rendered the victim unable to hobble more than a few metres, and corsets which rearranged the internal organs. There are some cultures today that feed their girls until they are morbidly obese in order to make them more attractive marriage prospects, some that butcher girls' genitals for similar reasons. These are things that parents (usually mothers) do to girls though, in order to increase their prospects in highly patriarchal societies in which the best a girl can hope for out of life is to be well married. High heels and arse floss are things that women do to themselves in a society in which they have the same legal rights as men. They choose to do it to themselves. But then again, and depending of course on what your profession is, being attractive can massively increase one's success at work. Has anybody ever seen that back page of Glamour magazine, where they take photos of random people on the street and critique their outfits? There was a horrid one a while back, in which they'd photographed a woman wearing a suit with trainers and said that this was a massive no-no. It made me spit with rage - this woman probably had to wear horribly uncomfortable shoes at work, and why the hell shouldn't she wear comfy shoes for the journey and change when she got to the office? Are we to look perfectly sexy 24 hours a day? I wonder if Glamour thinks that it's acceptable for us to take our heels off at night?

    There is nothing inherently vile about high heels. I like high heels as much as the next girl. In my wardrobe you will find several stratospheric, spangly, studded creations that would make Carrie Bradshaw weep with envy (although thankfully for my bank balance, none of them are Manolos). However, on an everyday basis you're much more likely to find me in old martial arts trainers. I have worn out several pairs of jodhpur boots in my time, but I have yet to wear out a stiletto heel. Does this mean I'm a minger? Well if it does, at least I'm comfortable. And at least I have a filter for any men who are so ridiculously shallow that their opinion of a woman is coloured by her shoes not being sufficiently sexy.

    I get considerably more male attention when I wear high heels than when I wear flat shoes, to quite an amazing extent. I can simply change my shoes and nothing else, and watch the number of neanderthals who try to grope me in the street skyrocket. I can't believe that they actually make me that much more attractive. I just can't believe that being a few inches taller is going to make a significant difference to my attractiveness - I honestly don't think many men are that bothered about the difference between 5ft2 and 5ft6, surely? Likewise, I don't think looking slightly thinner is going to make much of a difference either. There's also the theory that wearing high heels forces the wearer to arch their back and stick out their tits and arse, but I don't buy that either - I happen to have a lot of tits and arse and a very hollow back even without high heels, and the heels still massively affect the amount of male attention I get. I'm sure it's about more than just how you look in the shoes. Because high heels are stereotyped as "sexy", wearing them gives out a "message" that you are hot and ready and up for it. (I may well be hot and ready and up for it, but not with some creep who yells at me to get my tits out just because I am wearing "heterosexual shoes").

    Most of the time this attention is just annoying, but it can be terrifying. It takes me ten minutes to walk from the tube station to my house, and last Saturday night, whilst wearing a pair of high-heeled cowboy boots with skinny jeans, I had two rape threats during that ten minutes. One of them was particularly unpleasant, involving two guys in a car cruising past me for a couple of minutes wolf whistling and shouting about how they were going to take me up the arse, and then speeding up and turning into a side street which of course made me think they were lying in wait. Of course they weren't waiting for me in that side street - they had sped away by the time I walked past. They'd just been threatening me for fun.

    Because you're more likely to get harrassed when you look "sexy" and because you're more likely to look "sexy" when you're wearing something that in some way restricts your movement, the very time at which you're most likely to be threatened is the time at which you're least likely to be able to physically defend yourself. The main reason I was scared by those naughty men on Saturday night was that I knew I wouldn't be able to run as fast as them, and that a black belt in taekwondo is no good when you're wearing skinny jeans. I wonder if vulnerability = sexiness. Would I have been even more "sexy" if I'd been wearing shoes so uncomfortable I'd been struggling to walk? Is a woman who can't fight back the best kind?

    I know that the official feminist party line on this is "it doesn't make a difference what you wear, women get harrassed regardless" but let's face it, women do get harrassed much more when they are dressed in a manner which the patriarchy defines as "sexy". I know damn well that if I had worn that skinny jeans and bomber jacket combo with flat boots, I would not have received anything like the same amount of harrassment, and the harrassment I had received would not have been so unpleasant. I know this because that is exactly the sort of outfit I wear on an everyday basis with little or no trouble - it's only the addition of a pair of high heels that makes men think it's okay to harrass me in such an aggressive manner. This is one of the most annoying things - you know that if you hadn't worn the heels you wouldn't be being harrassed so much, and so you feel some sense of responsibility for it. Or, if you're me, you don't feel that the disgusting behaviour of such lowlifes should affect your wardrobe choices and so you wear the heels regardless and get very angry at the patriarchy.

    I was out from 6pm - midnight on Saturday night, and during that time I probably walked past hundreds of men. Only three harrassed me, so it's not as if men in general are a problem here. But those three were enough to make me feel petrified, furious, embarrassed and, as ever, astounded at the effect a pair of heels seems to have on what "sort of girl" people think I am. It's frankly weird that the shoes a woman wears are considered to be so heavily indicative of attractiveness, sexual orientation, sexual availability, so many attributes that really have sod all to do with shoes. How did all this happen? Why are we judged as ugly or "easy", gay or straight, depending on whether or not we happen to have chosen spangly stilettos or DM boots to go with our outfits on any given day? And how the hell can we stop it?

    Friday, 14 March 2008

    Happy Steak and Blowjob Day!


    Sorry about the lack of blogging recently, but I have not been feeling my best after having my wisdom teeth out. Incidentally, if you want all the gory details you can find them here.

    Anyway, as you will quite possibly be aware, today is Steak and Blowjob Day.

    I feel as if I ought to be angry about this, but I'm really not. All it is is understandable Valentine's Day backlash. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Valentine's Day is total bollocks. It creates obligation for men (buy women stupid gifts etc) obligation for women (put out cos he bought you stupid gifts etc) and excuses men for any general crapness on the other 364 days of the year, providing they remember to buy you the goddamn roses on Valentine's Day.

    Steak and Blowjob Day is pretty simple. It's not expensive, it doesn't require much effort, you don't even have to put any thought into what to do. Okay, so demanding sex acts is a pretty unpleasant thing to do really, but is anybody actually taking it that seriously? And as for men who don't like steak, or who aren't so keen on blow jobs, I'm sure suitable substitutes can be found.

    I actually feel kind of left out because I really, really, really love steak, much more than I love anything I might be likely to receive on Valentine's Day (except perhaps for jewellery. Hey, a girl can dream, right?) But steak is MAN FOOD. Girls are not supposed to eat steak - it's got saturated fat y'all, it's gonna make you fat y'all. And also, is a blow job such a terrible chore? To be honest, I think I'd probably quite enjoy participating in Steak and Blowjob Day. I would however draw the line at the guy eating the steak whilst receiving the blow job.

    Sorry but I don't find this particularly sexist or offensive at all. The only major problem I have with it is that if I had a boyfriend who was particularly enamoured of steak and/or blow jobs, I would like to think that I would bestow these things upon him more than once a year.

    Tuesday, 9 October 2007

    The "double standard"

    This "double standard" you'll hear feminist types ranting about quite a lot refers to the phenomenon of men being applauded for promiscuity whilst women are derided for the same behaviour. However, I've never really been that convinced of just how prevalent this is these days. I've often been derided for *not* being promiscuous - both men and women have accused me of being "frigid" for not being interested in shagging random strangers in nightclub toilets. It has always seemed to me that the expectations of people with regards to sexual behaviour have evened out, that now both men and women are expected to shag everything that moves.

    I'd like to say at this point that I have absolutely no moral stance on sex whatsoever - the reason I don't do casual sex is just that I'm too shy and that it takes me a while to feel physically comfortable enough with someone to actually enjoy it. I have to know someone for a little while before I can seriously lust after them. And I'm buggered if I'm doing anything I don't feel comfortable with just because Cosmo tells me I've got "issues with sex" if I'm not shagging someone by our fourth date.

    We all know of course that sleeping with someone on the first date is a big no-no. He won't respect you in the morning! And yet, if you hold off until the third or fourth date, he will be a lovely romantic creature who will provide gargantuan quantities of respect, adoration, jewellery and cunnilingus. Fuck that - I'd suggest that if he's the type of guy who won't respect you in the morning, then he's a misogynistic arsewipe and definitely not relationship material, so it doesnt matter whether you sleep with him or not.

    I was chatting to a fellow feminist at a party a few weeks ago, who told me that she always sleeps with people on the first date, because she's not sure if she'll get a second date. Although the girl in question immediately became my personal hero, she was at pains to tell me that people often reacted very badly to her shagging antics. Many men really did lose respect for her. Obviously I was very wrong in my theory that both men and women are supposed to be racking up as many notches on their bedposts as possible.

    But what is a girl to do? I've got a bit of a controversial take on this: I think all of this double standard and virgin/whore arsemongering is actually very liberating. Women can't do anything right. There is no ideal. However you behave sexually you will be judged, called names, whatever. You can't get it right, so don't even try. Just do exactly what you want to do in the happy knowledge that however you conducted your sex life, somebody would be pissed off about it. And here's a hint - if you feel like sleeping with someone, do it. He might not respect you in the morning, but at least that way you get laid.

    Thursday, 31 May 2007

    Buzz off!



    I wonder if Sex and the City has done more for the humble vibrator than any advertising campaign. Who remembers Charlotte pulling a sickie on a girls' night out to spend some quality time with her Rampant Rabbit, and Carrie having to march down to her apartment and snatch it from her? Was I the only one who wanted to yell, "Don't you know where that's been?" And then there was the episode in which Samantha's favourite "back massager" breaks from overuse and she brazenly demands an exchange, refusing to adopt the pretence that women buy them for their backs.

    Apparently, a woman can only achieve an orgasm with the help of a vibrating phallic neon piece of jelly-like plastic with prongs. Quite apart from the fact that many of these devices look quite frankly terrifying or just plain baffling, I take issue with the implication that I need mechanical assistance getting myself off.

    Vibrators are seen as symbols of modern emancipation. Women are being told what they should enjoy physically by much the same sort of pop-feminists who told them they were not supposed to enjoy penetrative sex in the 70s. They are being encouraged to be utterly obsessed with their own orgasms, told to collect more and more bits of phallic silicone in order to achieve extreme ecstasy the likes of which one could never experience with a mere man. We are being sold these devices on the back of a post-feminist bandwagon which states that we must assert our independence from men. Simply masturbating is not enough. We must own a vibrator in order to make a statement that we masturbate. Yes, I am a woman, I have sexual urges, I'm going to buy this piece of mass-produced latex crap and as God is my witness, I will go home and have a wank!

    Masturbation is not proof that you don't need a man. Try becoming financially independent, emotionally stable, genuinely happy to be single - that's proof that you don't need a man.

    I'd much rather it was like this than a hundred years ago, when women weren't even expected to enjoy sex and the thought of a woman masturbating was completely abhorrent. I just can't help feeling that we're all taking it a bit too seriously. You're not having a romantic evening for one. You're having a wank. Get over it.

    Tuesday, 15 May 2007

    Nice tits, love!

    I am thoroughly sick of unwanted attention and people - male and female - assuming that I am both thick and sexually promiscuous because of the size of my breasts.

    When I was fourteen years old, a boy once asked me, "Hasn't anybody ever told you a handful is enough?" People just assume that women choose the size of their breasts. If they did (surgery notwithstanding) then life would be much easier because the signals that our breasts radiated would actually be accurate.

    Part of the problem is that there are no respectable, intelligent, attractive big-bosomed women in the media - just porn stars and page 3 girls. Consequently our society lacks respect for women with large breasts. Virtually no prominent media figures with large breasts are renowned for anything other than their bust - essentially, they are walking pairs of tits. In some cases they have deliberately built careers around their bosoms and in some cases the one-sided media attention has been thrust upon them, but either way, a woman with large breasts is not allowed to be anything more substantial than a page 3 girl.

    Another incident from when my breasts first grew to mammoth proportions is still burned into my memory, although at 24 I am now mature enough to be angry and amused about it rather than ashamed as I was then. My mother had dragged me to John Lewis for a long-overdue fitting. The assistant, a middle-aged woman named Sheila who was very perfectly polite and pleasant to my face, had measured me and had left the cubicle in order to find me some suitable attire to try on. As soon as she left however, and bear in mind that there was only a fabric curtain between me and the outside world, I overheard the following, "'Ere Tracey, we've got a 28E in here! You never seen nuffink like it!" If I hadn't been only fourteen, and if at that time John Lewis hadn't been the only shop that stocked bras in my size, I would have got dressed and walked out, possibly complaining to the manager on the way. It's like having a terrible skin condition or disfigurement, except that because it's largely considered attractive it's okay for people to stare and to comment.

    The larger a woman's breasts are, the less they belong to her. The more people feel that they have the right to comment. Breasts are considered male property - if I had a pound for every time I'd been told (by both men and women) that I should be happy with my large breasts because men find them attractive I'd have enough for a deposit on a flat in London - which would make me considerably happier than my enormous knockers ever have.

    Saturday, 21 April 2007

    Who gets cravings for choclit?



    We all get cravings for choclit, don't we? No food is as emotionally loaded as choclit.



    Who remembers these Flake ads? I mean, she's virtually fellating it.



    Why have cotton when you can have silk? Why indeed.

    IT'S JUST CHOCOLATE!

    Okay, I'm the first to admit that I know bugger all about the history of chocolate advertising, but for as long as I can remember, chocolate has been marketed almost exclusively to women and almost exclusively with sexual imagery and undertones and/or the idea that it is a naughty/indulgent treat.

    The best example I can think of to illustrate just how powerful marketing can be has little to do with feminism at all. Everybody remembers the Ferrero Rocher adverts - Mr Ambassador, with these Rochers you are really spoiling us! Ferrero also make this stuff called Nutella, which is marketed as a chocolate spread for kids. Now, I don't have any concrete proof of this, I have not sent samples off to the lab or anything, I only have my taste buds to guide me on this one, but after, erm, extensive research, I am damn sure that the soft centre of Ferrero Rocher is exactly the same as Nutella. Same stuff, different positioning.

    Come to think of it, the chocolate and diet industries kind of feed off one another's advertising campaigns:

    1- Chocolate manufacturers convince woman that she should be "naughty" and stuff her face with chocolate

    2 - Diet companies (Special K, anyone?) make woman feel ugly and fat and in need of their services

    3 - Woman feels guilty. She gives up chocolate and eats Special K bars instead.

    4 - Woman feels emotionally deprived, not to mention bloody hungry. That family-sized bar of Dairy Milk has never looked so good.

    5 - Repeat from Step 2

    Why should a food make you feel emotionally deprived? It's just food. Chocolate will not make you happy, nor is eating it a terrible sin. You're not a chocoholic - you've just been duped into thinking that because you're a woman you need the stuff, particularly when you're on your period.

    I love chocolate, I really do. And occasionally I do get cravings for it, which are usually satisfied by a small bar of Green & Blacks milk chocolate. Or Cadbury's Whole Nut. Mmmmmmm.....nuts...... Well, you are what you eat. I also have a particular fondness for Curly Wurlys, Chomps, Toblerone (especially those mammoth ones you get in airports!), Twirls (like Flakes but less messy) and Creme Eggs.

    I have nothing against chocolate in itself, but I wish that women would stop seeing it as their friend, saviour, ultimate source of comfort, etc etc, because it's quite frankly pathetic.