MORNING gals and guys! Have you had a nice week? The papers have contained an absolute toss-fest of shit-flinging and feminist bashing. Which, of course we LOVE. Without further ado here is a veritable banquet of Fleet Street faeces:
10) Not so Fonda* of exercise
Did you all enjoy Back to the Future day this week? Bitching about the lack of flying cars and self-tying trainers? Well, The Sun clearly got into the spirit, and is making like a DeLorean and trying to catapult us to back to the 80s, seemingly to facilitate the creation of an alternative 2015. A 2015 where we eat grapefruit to stave off gnawing hunger, hunger from ‘feeling the burn’ of frenziedly thrashing about in a day-glo leotard. Though this alternate reality may leave us deranged with hunger and dressed in the attire of a half-mad, colour blind trapeze artist, we’ll probably be thinner than we are now. Allegedly.
I have fairly terrible memories of this period of keep fit history. It was my short and fairly rotund father who scarred me for life by doing the Jane Fonda work out in an athlete’s vest and jersey short shorts in our cork-clad front room. Don’t worry, I am currently in therapy.
The exposé’s author says how awful all the 80s crazes were (I can vicariously concur), but that they MUST HAVE worked. Now, call me a cynic, but if these exercises in self torture were so amazing, why the chuff isn’t anyone still mincing about in leg-warmers outside of Hoxton? Hmmm?
*I’m really really sorry.
9) Black comedy
For once, I looked below the line on a Daily Mail piece and saw reader sympathy for a female victim of male violence and disgust for a travesty of justice. Even Mail readers think this is abhorrent. That tell you anything Dacre? Maybe try copy that condemns a woman’s killer rather than enthuses at his family’s ‘joy,’ you shitheel?
Nothing more needs to be said about this. It is a horrible, horrible joke in and of itself.
8) She’s got legs
Now this is the hundred million dollar question. I once knew of a woman beaten half to death with her own knock-off Louboutins for the social transgression of wearing 40 deniers to a double christening in Burgess Hill. IN AUGUST. She had it coming if you want my opinion.
The Guardian fashion section (as usual) have their finger on the pulse of important socio-economic issues. This (whisper it) opaque tights business really is quite the scandal and I have heard tell of rich women chased clean out of Knightsbridge for trying to cover up botched knee-sharpening operations with Aristoc 60 deniers in November. What is wrong with these women? Don’t they realise other people have EYES?
7) The bush never went anywhere
Relax ladies, the Daily Star thinks it might be alright for you to have some downstairs fuzz, for a bit, while it’s in fashion. But, BEWARE: although the ‘Eighties bush’ is back, ‘it’s more work than you might think.’
Question: how is it more work than I might think? Am I doing it wrong? Because my hair just, y’know, EXISTS. It’s just there. Are we supposed to be French plaiting it or something?
6) Currie’s beef
It’s hard to know where to start with this one. Dear Edwina Currie. Dear dear Edwina. It reads like she may have recently sustained some kind of head injury and is shouting at a perplexed nurse.
I HATE FEMINISM! THE WHOLE SISTERHOOD IS STUPID (names two women). LAURIE PENNY THINKS HAVING BABIES IS DISGUSTING! BE MORE RESILIENT WOMEN, YOU WET LETTUCES! THERE’S NO GLASS CEILING! YOU JUST HAVE TO PERSIST! YOU KNOW, PAST ALL THE SEXISM THAT DOESN’T ACTUALLY HOLD ANYONE BACK! BE LIKE ENOCH POWELL AND ME (but not as pretty)! AND BUY A MASCULINE SUIT! I WAS IN THE CABINET! HANG ON! I KNOW! SINGLE SEX GRAMMAR SCHOOLS! THAT’S THE ANSWER! WHERE AMI I? I’M A CELEBRITY! UNHAND ME! YOU’RE NOT A BUPA NURSE!
Of course, she may in fact have been terrrbly terrrbly druhnk and dribbling this risible bollocks all over some poor sod’s keyboard at The Telegraph. Anyway, when she’s slept it off I’ll see if she’d like one of those miracle hangover cures; my favourite consists of seaweed, a whole tube of pureed garlic, cat milk, mashed Opal Fruits and one raw egg.
5) Britain’s shittest newspaper strikes again
Ahh, it’s that time of the year again. Leaves are falling, noses are running and Richard Desmond is unearthing the ghostly knockers of the undead. Yes, lusty phantoms abound in the dark alleys of Fleet Street this month; a wild coincidence, considering Halloween is around the corner and Desmond can’t seem to flog any papers. Still, it’s nice to know that even ghosts can be objectified by the tabloid press, innit? I was worried that I’d only be able to experience sexism during my entire lifetime on earth, but now I can rest assured that my tits can be judged for a whole eternity of unrest in a woeful parallel realm beyond the grave. Excellent, thanks Daily Star.
4) Arse wars
Well, this is a nice light entertainment piece in the Daily Express: pick two random women from across the globe, who have absolutely nothing in common whatsoever, cut the heads off their photos and liberally scatter close-ups of their tits and backsides across a page. That’s fun, innit? I look forward to next week’s feature, comparing Vin Diesel and Andrew Lloyd Webber’s nobs. What? That’s never ever happening? You’re only doing this shit with women? Oh. How odd…
3) Richard Littlejohn crawls out of his hole to say something dull
Slack-faced moron, Richard ‘commonsense’ Littlejohn, is at it again. Schools are cracking down on racist and sexist name calling in the playground, and he thinks it’s ludicrous! In his dismal Daily Mail column, he raged:
‘The Government has just issued official guidelines to schools on how to deal with suspected racist and sexist language. Fair enough, no one should be discriminated against on the grounds of their skin colour or ethnic background. But the new rules go much further, introducing a regime worthy of the old East German Stasi.’
Yes Richard, Primary schools are actually being secretly run by the Women’s Equality Party, and will from now on be a hot bed of covert informants. Boy kids that call girl kids tarts etc. will be betrayed by their brothers, taken to the ‘nurse’s’ office, psychologically broken and turned into metrosexual mimsy-boy kids who acquiesce to INSANE feminist demands, like understanding the power of discriminatory language and that everyone deserves respect. Other boy kids won’t know who to trust; which fellow boy kids will tolerate their sexist dissent? Which other boy kids will join their fight for LIBERTY, dammit?! To be able to exercise their freedom to slate fellow classmates on the basis of gender, these repressed boy kids will have to go underground. Vive la résistance!
2) Woman goes outdoors
Rollerskating into an MFI beech effect closet, ripping the door off, smashing the mirror into 412 little shards and ramming your kneecap into the corner of the bottom drawer is a wardrobe faux-pas. Having tits is not a wardrobe faux-pas – it’s effing BIOLOGY, Daily Star.
1) Peachy keen
Ladies. Are your knees together? I should hope so, you putrid, malodorous slappers. But hark! Help is on the way to save us, and intrepid clunge adventurers, from our terrifying and fetid crevices. Two gurning, laboratory based, knicker-shy misogynists have come up with a way to make our parts (down there) smell like soft, hairy fruit.
We do love just how terrified the Daily Mail is of the word VAGINA. Any mention of a woman’s body or activity that would be out of place in a 1950’s etiquette manual, for instance, removing one’s lace gloves seems to result in Paul Dacre having a fit of the vapours. Having a downstairs region (aka the dark and terrible fleshy nook) let alone doing unmentionable things with it FOR FUN, that’s just verboten. Eh Paulie, you big repressed sack of bile.
But I digress. Once these ludicrous men have finished dealing with our VILE FLAPS, they’ve got another project in mind. No! You tawdry trollops, they will not be altering the fuggy aroma of nob cheese, or the piquant flavour of semen! Get your priorities in line! They’re going to develop a capsule that makes cat and dog faeces smell like bananas. That’s right ladies. To these two hot, young science nobheads, your reproductive canals are ever so slightly more offensive than dog shit.
So. Did you FEEL THE BURN of inequality in the press? This is a mere smidgen of the dis-parity that hamstrings lady-people and thus all people, everywhere. Bollocks isn’t it.
Right, we’re off to the gym.
Hahahahaaaaaaa not really. Grapefruit* anyone?
*Plain chocolate digestive