Monthly Archives: July 2019

I Love Your Blog! Send Nudes!

I haven’t blogged for a while, work was mad and, like a complete idiot, I’m in the middle of writing two books. I also needed a break from all the nonsense; in the last blog post I stupidly mentioned that women enjoy sex, which is obviously code for ‘please DM me to find out just how much I enjoy sex and be sure to request your free tit pic while you’re at it’ and I’d had enough. Actually, that’s not fair, in the spirit of #notallmen and all that I’d like to add that some of the men who message me aren’t interested in my tits at all, they just want to call me a Shehadist.

But not to worry, because it seems that my blog posts have virtually been writing themselves while I’ve been gone because everyone is in such a mess.

So what have I missed? Well, it turns out that we have no problem accepting a fictional woman who has a fish tail instead of feet, who can breathe underwater and comfortably wear a bra made out of sea shells while talking to lobsters and sea witches. But make her black? No way, we’re not having it.

It also seems that while society absolutely bloody idolises male athletes, allowing them to get away with beating their wives up and raping young girls like the total legends they are, the minute someone like Megan Rapinhoe comes along there is outrage. Just what is it about this strong, self-assured, confident, talented, inspiring woman who really doesn’t give a shit about what men think of her, that men don’t like?? It’s a mystery. 

Ambition and arrogance are great in a man, but listen love, it’s not really natural in a woman so pipe down and go and pose in your bikini and shush, we’re watching Love Island. 

Also, newsflash, women over forty are no longer sexy, soz, a man said so. Like any woman over forty gives a shit about what you think anyway, sunshine, but crack on. 

I do have to say though, women, you’re not helping. This week on Twitter there’s been a post going round, asking what flavour of man women prefer. There are about fifteen photos of men with differing physiques, each numbered, and we’re supposed to choose our favourite. Imagine if that was a post about women? We all have to take responsibility, we can’t just expect men to change while we sit back and take their place, that’s not what we’re fighting for, the right to be just as obnoxious.

Talking of Twitter, it’s also a mess at the minute, everyone is so angry, but not about the things they should be. They’re just going round in a spiral of pointless anger, getting cross with people who are getting cross and then getting more cross with the people who are getting cross about the people getting cross, you with me?

(An example of this is the recent posts about the anniversary of the opening ceremony of the 2012 Olypmics. Half of Twitter is saying, Look! Remember the halcyon days of Pre-Brexit Britain when we all pulled together and there was drumming and James Bond and those nurses and shit? Remember that? Although surely part of that was sheer relief and amazement that we didn’t fuck it up?

You can almost see the rest of Twitter saying, here, hold my coat, I’m going in because – are you mad? London was overrun by armed police and racism, you idiot and the NHS was already being dismantled and the Olympic bandwagon was socially divisive. I can’t believe you’d even think anything different, you racist, unfeeling bastard. And everyone feels shit. Meanwhile, a group of people nobody voted for are now driving the country and distracting us with arguments about the Oxford comma and double spaces, rubbing their hands with glee because we’re all so wound up we can’t get ourselves organised to come up with a valid alternative to the cabinet of doom they’ve just put together.)

So I’m going to carry on ranting, and carry on blocking those message requests, particularly the ones that start with ‘I love your blog’ because those invariably end up with a request for nudes. Mate, I’m not sure which part of my ranty, feminist blog complaining about the sexualisation of women gave you the impression that I am up for sending you a photo of my forty-plus, non-sexy tits, but good on you for trying. Maybe that’s part of it, maybe they’re trying to prove a point, reduce us all down to the same thing and what more of a challenge than a ranty feminist? Much more satisfying.

But I’ll carry on, because while we have people like Johnson and Trump in charge, it’s more important than ever to keep getting cross. While we let men like this get away with the things they get away with we’re sending out a huge message that with the right connections and education and privilege you really can be a misogynist, racist liar and hold a position of power without any fuss, and this is trickling down into our everyday lives. No wonder people are confused, this is all becoming so damn normalised and we need to fight against it.

And in case you were wondering, it’s an occasional yes to the Oxford comma, a big fat no to the double space. You’re welcome.

 

 

1 Comment

Filed under Uncategorized