Morning all. Last week we were spoiled for choice, and this week has not disappointed either. Well, obviously the patronising, sexualising, belittling, mocking and general abusing of just over half the population is massively disappointing. But, in terms of giving us fodder for a good drubbing, we’re up to our tits in veritable horse shit. Do help yourselves to a handful lovelies …

 

10) Hot or not?

Well, this is interesting. The Independent is making a rare appearance this week, with a piece of click bait so enticing you could probably catch a really stupid shark. Other papers have gone for the girl on girl ‘flexisexual’ angle on this fairly pointless ‘study,’ but the Independent opted for a headline implying that if you lezz it up you’re less likely to be smart and hot… But the other FANTASTIC pull out quote states that, in cases of a gagging-for-it man-shortage, women will make do with, perhaps, a friend’s vagina.

Let’s face it, we all know that no self-respecting woman would consider a muff dive if there wasn’t a shortage of captivated dick. So, really we all need to work on being hot and smart enough to entice all those hetero cocks that so often prove elusive.

 

9) Clapped out fashion

OLD ladies! Take heed. Even when you are a wizened, crooked hag, you can still wear sexy things. Lovely Lorraine is proffering her fashion wares in The Sun – she’s been beavering away creating designs for women who are usually put out to pasture by fashion brands. She likes feedback from her readers and viewers; they help her develop her collections. So what might be alluring for ANCIENT women who want to sex up their sartorial style? Perhaps a peekaboo cagoule? A gillet with diamanté nipple pasties? A pashmina printed with a vintage ‘Get It Here’ pattern? I’m so grateful to The Sun for telling me I might still be able to wring a few drops of attractiveness out of my gnarled body when I’m close to the death of my relevance. If by the time I reach my twilight years (and I’ve not been shipped to a colony of deviants for not having had any ‘work done’ to my melting face) I’ll probably try arseless culottes, stiletto hiking boots and a Regatta fleece crop top.

 

8) 99% Pissed Off

Those mathematicians at the Daily Star have got their calculators out. Stay indoors, unless you want your stripper fractions adding up.

 

7) Arse Revenge

You! Yes, YOU, are you fat and alone? Have you been dumped because you’re a lard mountain of unlovability? Well, cast aside that bag of funsize Twixes (what is the plural of Twix?), get off your fat arse and spend the next nine months crafting a ‘revenge body’ down the gym, to make your ex want to shag you again. That’s the new ‘thing’ apparently (but only for us laydees, hence the placement of this article in the The Sun’s Woman section).

As an aside, isn’t this woman standing next to 2Pac in the photo taken in 2010? Personally, I’d consider this to be more newsworthy than the size of her arse, as he died in 1996.

 

6) The Hands of Time

O, to stop the creeping hand of Old Father Time! To turn back the hours, like grey clouds shifting across the surface of my wizened face. O, but for one more fleeting moment in the garden of my youth!

The Daily Mail are getting a bit dramatic and poetic, and my expressions are threatening to become a bit lively.

Leave Annabel’s face alone and pig off.

 

5) All aboard the hypocrisy train. Toot toot!

Whatever you think of Corbyn’s alleged call for segregated carriages on trains, the fact that 70s throwback rag The Sun (who trade mostly in tits and arse as prime marketing tools), think this is retrograde guff really tickles me. Let’s not forget that, up until January of this year, most train commuters could expect to see likely lads up and down our fair land ‘appreciating’ the ample norks of Page 3 beauties on a daily basis. Or that young girls could enjoy ‘cheeky’ grown-up perverts comparing them to perfect breasted lovelies on the bus to school. Yes, The Sun, you are definitely in a place to cast the first stone. You globulous-brained puddle of jizzmongers.

 

4) Lazy stereotypes, even lazier journalism

I wish the Daily Star had mentioned somewhere that this women was blonde, so I could effectively judge how thick she is. Oh, look at that, they did. Thanks.

 

3) A principled man

‘All Rise.’ Oh this is lovely. Obviously the sight of a vulnerable, possibly mentally unwell woman, who’s covered in bruises and possibly the victim of assault will result in all men in a mile radius having a lob on. Bravo Mr. Dinsmore, you really are an editor of great integrity. By the way, how’s The Sun’s Gimme Shelter campaign going? It’s so great that you give vulnerable women the care and respect they deserve, bless your malignant, bile-filled heart.

 

2) The ick factor

A bloke I’ve never heard of with a crap name is knocking about with Kylie Jenner, the youngest Kardashian, who recently turned 18. The Daily Star have reported that the nobhead in question has written a rap about ‘penetrating’ his young girlfriend. Ah, the wild romance of it all. Anyway, the Star was appalled by the lyrics, branding them ‘icky’ – a word I’ve never seen in a newspaper before.

The online article was helpfully interrupted by this link:

And this photo, which bears a 100% non creepy caption:

Yep, I’m with the Daily Star on this one. It’s terrible when girls are sexualised in this manner. Poor Kylie Jenner.

I’ll just leave these old Daily Star headlines here, for safekeeping.

 

1) The (rubber) gloves are off

 

Dear Paul Dacre, we invite you to work your way through the following instructions:

1. Go to Wilko’s and select yourself a nice sturdy toilet brush.
2. Fill a mop bucket with one or all of the following: lemon juice/white spirit/vinegar
3. Submerge your sturdy toilet brush in the mop bucket.
4. Remove your trousers/jodhpurs and underthings.
5. Work the toilet brush into your rectal passage.
6. Agitate vigorously for 15 – 20 minutes.

…

So, there we have it ladies and gents. A giant pile of news poo. We hope we have alleviated some of the eye bleeding that is the result of being exposed to such caustic excrement. We bid you farewell. Until next Friday darlings. Iris and Flora. x