Friday, 28 February 2014

Nunc Est Bibendum

I bumped into a friend in the street the other day and we exchanged the usual pleasantries. When it came to saying goodbye, I braced myself for the inevitable.

She: "Let's grab a coffee sometime!"

"Sure..." I feebly reply to her retreating head. And then slunk off home, pondering my shoes and the nature of girly catch ups compared to manly ones.

Lady pals of mine. I request that we put an end to this 'coffee' crap. Pints or no deal.

(Pints of wine, preferably)

Problem? What problem?

Coffee is the bitter, acrid, blackened slime I wincingly down in the mornings to cope with the alarm of waking up to another day of living. All that getting up and doing things. Wearing clothes and washing them. Eating and excreting. Showering and getting filthy again. It never ends.

My dear friends, I don't want to associate you with my morning medicine. I want laughter, merriment, dancing and embracing and above all I want to get pissed.

I asked a male friend if he ever gets invited out for coffee by his male friends. Cue much laughter and derision.

"I'd ask if they were feeling okay. Then probably find different friends".

I don't want to find different friends. I just want to get my current friends drunk. Away with this sedate, china-bound po-faced potion and bring in the maker of good times, bonding, ambitious planning, punning, singing, regrettable photos and dancing on tables. And I don't care if it's 5pm on a Wednesday. All the better. Happy hump day indeed.

Nakedness and hipster garland optional.


Tuesday, 18 February 2014

Hungry Eyes

I noticed this advert pasted up at a bus stop I pass on my way to work every morning.

Friend demonstrating 'manly' pose. Or constipation.

I'm amazed in the overtly PC bubble of Brighton this advert is allowed to remain in place! I was under the impression the phrase 'man up' had joined 'spastic', 'retard' and colour-co-ordinated toys for children under Things We Don't Say or Do Anymore.

Here's the thing though. Men are generally the stronger sex. It's not non-feminist of me to say that. Men get the athletic strength and muscle to compete against other males for women (yes I'm being gender-normative); women get higher tolerance of pain which is why we do childbirth. The higher levels of testosterone in males also contribute to a greater muscle mass. Men are recommended a calorific intake of 2,500, women 2,000.

But to compensate, we get to out-live you.

But anyway. This 'MAN UP' thing is clearly a challenge. It's to get you talking about KFC, and hey look, it's working.

It follows in the footsteps of Yorkie:




(Although they do include the self-deprecating additive on the packet, "As thick as you like them...")

Not forgetting Iceland's Hungry Man range:


(By the way, if any of the brands mentioned here want to send me food in exchange for the free promo, please do not hesitate to get in touch).

The damaging effect this attempt to antagonise by playing on stereotypes can have on female body image is probably what pisses me off the most.

If you're a woman, it's not considered feminine to show signs of hunger. I hardly ever see women tucking into baguettes or burgers with spilling fillings while walking around like male builders for example might. When I do see a woman tucking into a MAN-SIZE chocolate bar in public I want to high-five her.

Instead we get adverts for fucking yoghurt and Special K and the occasional slender brunette coyly nibbling a tiny square of Dairy Milk.

Teehee, I hope nobody catches me snaffling this tiny pathetic piece of chocolate!

A Japanese fast-food chain came up with the idea of a mask women could enjoy burgers behind.


When I first read about that I thought, "Seriously? We have to hide our meaty enjoyment?" (quiet in the back there) and then that immediately morphed into the admittance that I would totally buy into that. I dislike eating things larger than bite-sized slivers of sushi in public now ever since an ex gleefully mocked my saliva strings when eating sandwiches. When I mentioned this to a female friend she confided she too has problems ever since she was mocked one time for onion breath.

The article cheerfully concludes:

"Don't be ashamed, women of Japan, with or without mask, women or men, the only way to eat a burger is with a wide open mouth and juice running down your face."

Not so conceivable when you're a painted lady! Being an aging singleton, I wear a metric fuck-tonne of make up everywhere now and the clean up mission to remove burger sauce from the chin would require many tools and much patience.

But I appreciate the sentiment. Women should be encouraged to enjoy food of all types. As well as adverts depicting ladies daintily nibbling on cereal bars, it should be okay to show women tucking into steaks. Because for heaven's sake, WE GET HUNGRY TOO. We need food to fuel the multi-tasking and the child-rearing and as payback for doing 300 squats to obtain an arse that can crack walnuts. Which we will then also eat.

And guys, please be careful what you say to us when we're eating. "Faaakin' hell, that didn't touch the sides love did it?!" - that kind of comment will be brushed off easily by some women and good for you - I envy you, I really do - but by others who have allowed themselves to be affected by years of media-based invitations to compare their body shapes to others...well, it sticks.