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Archive for May, 2007

I don’t understand why people insist on writing like retards on the internet, in text messages and on instant messenger. I’m neither old, daft or resistant to technology – I can even construct basic html (even though it often fucks up because I spell colour with a u and apparently the world wide web is American) – but I cannot understand this new stupid version of English that threatens to engulf the world and will have the eventual terrible outcome of de-potty-training us all. Obviously there is no scientific fact that backs up my hypothesis but human de-evolution is likely if we lose the ability to at least appear more intelligent than dolphins, no?

I have a rather common messenger address. I created it about a decade ago and miraculously still use it. Due to this common address, rather like Paris Hilton’s vadge, I have been mistakenly been contacted by many people, mostly teenagers. When I was a teenager, the closest you got to meeting strangers was at a weekend party you crashed and only had the courage to talk to anyone because you were drunk and it was only slightly less embarrassing to ask where the bathroom was than spew on the carpet in the corner. Now, however, I’m being contacted by a veritable army of seemingly ill-educated little dipshits. (more…)

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I wrote this in a moment of teenage angst, and then commented on it when I finally got my first period yesterday. Menstruating is a fuckin bitch.

From makeup to fashion, diets to disease, there’s not a lot in the world that can’t be explained by these feminine doyennes. It’s all designed to make you look just like her, she and the girl sitting next to you. Tips to widen your eyes, plump up your lips, reduce your hips and grow your tits. Although in Asia they take the cheap option on breast augmentation and just buy a bra two cups too big. Deal with the consequences when they feel slutty I suppose. They fuck with your genetics and then make a lame arsed attempt to bolster your self image. There’s a reason why every woman doesn’t look like a pre-pubescent supermodel. It’s because they just fucking aren’t. Fashion, makeup, diets and 2005s most kinky position doesn’t suit everyone, so quit obsessing. And the sooner women start to understand that oestrogen isn’t evil, perhaps they’ll have more time to appreciate the finer points in life. Looking good is all to do with proportion and feeling good is all to do with trusting your own tastes. Eat garlic on dates. Sleep in your mascara. Wear all your jewellery at once. Swear like a fishwife. Rip your jeans climbing fences. Wear your sunnies at night. Buy designer if you want it (don’t sell out on the look-alikes – they do not look alike). Call a boy if you want him. And above all, if you wanna fuck, then do it. And do it properly. Forget about the bullshit you’ve retained about which position slims your thighs and how to make your stomach appear smaller by painting your toenails. You don’t deserve to orgasm if that’s your deal. As for taking it from behind being degrading? I gotta ask: Who the hell are you screwing, missy?

Aw bless. I was a sweetheart back then.

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