Monday, July 18th, 2011
What is it about compliments? Why can’t we just graciously accept them? There’s always that faux deflection (‘What? This old thing? Oh, it’s nothing, really’), even if we spent hours beautifying ourselves in the hope that someone, somewhere would appreciate the extra effort. It seems, for women, the tide has turned and for many, while growing up, all we wanted was for the boys to say something nice, now a compliment from another woman has more meaning. Why is that?
Tags: compliments, female friendships, men
Posted in fashion, life | 18 Comments »
Wednesday, December 8th, 2010
It’s no secret that women can be bitchy. A raised eyebrow here, a dirty look there, graduating to the backhanded compliment, gossiping behind people’s backs and lastly, the full on bitch fest smackdown. Oh yes, we’ve all either been that girl, known that girl or hated that girl. But what has been largely perceived as a predominantly female trait, bitchiness has some new contenders to the throne: boys. Oh yes, the fellas have turned bitchy and they’re taking no prisoners.
The epidemic of Man Bitch has been spreading for some time now. Don’t get this confused with super camp gay men who will snap their fingers and roll their necks while cursing out your outfit – the Man Bitch has infected every type of male on the man spectrum.
Men love to bitch and gossip and put people down just as much, if not more so than women. Ever noticed how if a group of girls are bitching and a man’s present, he’ll act aloof at first but by the end of the conversation he’s the one throwing down the worst insults? Or that men are super talented at mixing shit up, going behind people’s backs, telling stories they know will rile someone up or hurt them – in the past, this was put down the the male mentality of ‘survival of the fittest’ but let’s call it what it really is: bitchy. I mean, that’s what it is if a woman goes behind people’s backs and does those things, right? Then there’s ‘The Game’, you know that code that some men use to pick up women that requires them to ‘neg’ the ladies in their presence (pay them a backhanded compliment) – while every pick up manual tells the fellas this is a sure fire way to pick up chicks, it is, for all intents and purposes, a bitch move.
For years, male bitchiness has managed to fly under the radar. It was just all so beneath them, or so they had us believe. But one thing has blown their cover: the internet. And in particular, blog comments.
Blog comments is where the Man Bitch comes out to play. It’s like he’s been jerking off for years and the right blog that says just the right thing to piss him off is where he can finally shoot his load. I’ve had negative comments left on this blog before, by women, but the nasty comments, the straight up brutal, hurtful, hideous can’t-believe-you-kiss-your-own-mother-with-that-mouth type comments are almost exclusively always left by men. They go for the jugular.
If a woman leaves a mean blog comment, or bitches you out to your face in real life, the common response from those around you is ‘she’s just jealous.’ Because of course, we like to allow ourselves to think that everyone wants what we’ve got. But if a man leaves a mean comment, the common response is ‘he just wants you.’ While my ego would like to believe that every man roaming the earth is just that attracted to me, I’m pretty sure that isn’t the case. Men leave these comments (usually about our looks or how hideous our personalities are) because they like to think their opinion matters to us, that I live for the sole purpose of strangers on the internet finding me attractive, that if they call me ugly I’ll be running and hurling myself off the nearest bridge.
Well, I’m still here bitch.
Perhaps there need to be more open forums in which men can show their true bitchy colours – support groups, what have you – so they don’t feel they have to hide behind pseudonyms or anonymity on the internet. Say it loud and proud Man Bitches! You bitch and you like it!
Tags: bitch, blogging, men, men and their issues, nasty boys
Posted in relationships | 10 Comments »
Wednesday, August 11th, 2010
Our society is so highly sexualised, what we should be outraged by, we’ve decided to turn a blind eye to. Certain things are just accepted. I’m not sure when it reached this point, but it’s disappointing that this is where we are now, as a culture – closing in on moral bankruptcy, every man for himself, if it doesn’t affect me, screw it. I’m as guilty as the next person of not speaking up. I got to thinking about the various ways in which I’ve been violated and the list took even me by surprise.
I’ve been groped. I’ve been rubbed up against on trains. I’ve had a guy masturbate in front of me on the tube. Once, as I was walking back from a dance class, two guys walked towards me, eyeing me up and as they passed me, one of them spanked my ass so hard it brought tears to my eyes. I was so stunned I didn’t even say anything. I’ve had a guy get his penis out in front of me on the subway in New York, while eight of his friends surrounded me so I couldn’t move. I was screaming on the inside, certain I was about to be raped, but on the outside I was silent – frozen. I’ve been followed. I’ve been hissed at, wolf whistled and barked at. I was once followed by a guy in New York for three blocks as he described, very loudly and in intricate detail, every single sexual act he would like to do to me. I’ve had guys grind on me on dance floors thinking their boner was welcome anywhere near my person. When I worked in a cloakroom in a London nightclub, I had a guy try to pull me over the counter and stick his tongue down my throat. I’ve been undressed by eyes, had my ass groped by complete strangers, my clothes tugged at and my hair stroked.
Through all those things, I did not protest enough. What’s worse still – they all happened in public places and no one else spoke up either. One would hope a knight in shining armour would come along and chastise these men for what they were doing, but it seems no one wants to get involved. You never know who you’ll be up against and the reality is, most people don’t want to take the risk.
Oftentimes when we do speak up, we’re made to feel like we’re overreacting. Like we’re being typical, drama queen, over emotional women. The men were just having a laugh, see? We shouldn’t take it so seriously. I don’t care if it’s just how people roll now and it’s accepted, NO man has the right to touch me like we’re in some sort of meat market and I think I speak for every woman when I say, I’ve had more than enough of this bollocks.
I started boxing to get fit, not thinking I would ever have to use it, but as I was walking through the city centre last night and noticed a man following me, I mentally prepared myself to square up to him. As I went to a cash point and he lingered around, I planned out in my head the exact combination of punches I would use if he tried anything untoward. It saddens me that throwing punches even came to mind, but the number of times I’ve been violated, do I really have any choice but to be prepared?
Tags: kicking ass and taking names, men, society
Posted in life | 28 Comments »
Monday, July 20th, 2009
At his concert last week in Manchester, Neyo broke down and shed some serious man tears. He was upset that he was sick and couldn’t continue. And he’s gotten a lot of heat for letting some salty residue drip from his eyes. How dare he! He’s a MAN goddamnit!
I actually felt kind of sorry for Neyo. I think, under those circumstances, when you’re sick and you have 12,000 people in front of you wanting you to perform tricks, it could get a little overwhelming, to say the least.
But there’s just something about a man crying. I have made two men cry in my life. They were moments where I was a little emotional, then all of a sudden, the dude got emotional. Both times, it stopped me dead in my tracks. I just kept thinking ‘shit. What am I meant to do now?’ You’re just not used to seeing that. Guys go out of their way to suck it up so much, then when they do actually let it go it’s…well, it’s just plain awkward.
And maybe it’s just me, but doesn’t part of you feel a little accomplished, like you finally broke him?
Oh wait, that actually is just me?
But what I like about man tears is that they save them for the big moments. It’s more respectable that way. Busting out the tears at every available opportunity is just ridiculous. That goes for women too. I mean, if your grandma dies, by all means, sob it up, but if you start balling because the bus was late, I’m gonna need you to take a Diazapam and chill the fuck out. You think babies get a pass on the crying just because they haven’t learned how to talk yet? Wrong! They could do with sucking it up every now and then too.
Bottom line: Man tears are perfectly acceptable. Neyo was right to let it out. People shouldn’t have booed him for that.
They should however, have booed him for wearing those leather pants.
Tags: crying, men
Posted in relationships | 4 Comments »
Wednesday, April 29th, 2009
Facial Hair
Fellas, are you aware that facial hair is essentially just pubic hair attached to your face? No? Well, it is. Studies have shown that nine times out of ten, a beard makes you look like a douchebag. So, if you must have it, you’ve gotta keep that shit in check. Don’t let it get unruly. And if you can’t grow something that makes some kind of sense, or you know your shit doesn’t grow in right, take a razor to it before I take a hack saw to it. If you are not getting laid, odds are it’s down to your unruly facial pubes (combined with your lack of personality, beer belly, intense body stench…whatever the case may be).
Power Cologne
Cologne is not a substitute for deodorant. Please do not bathe in it. My nostrils cannot take that kind of brutality. If you’re unlucky enough to be standing upwind of a dude who doesn’t know when to stop with the cologne, that shit can knock you out faster than a date rape drug. Maybe that’s what they’re going for? Also, if you’re dousing yourself in that much smelly stuff, it seems like you’re covering something up. Clearly your natural stench is not all that hot. But you know what solves that? Soap, water and a little bit of deodorant. If you’re going through a bottle of Calvin Klein a day, you may need to seek help.
Men in Flip Flops
You know how I feel about women in flip flops. Well, take those feelings and multiply them to the Nth degree and you get how I feel about men in flip flops. Never fellas. Just never attempt it. I don’t think any girl has ever said ‘My, that man has lovely feet.’ Keep those Chewbacca meets Harry and the Hendersons toes under wraps.
Tags: bad cologne, facial hair, flip flops, men
Posted in fashion | 4 Comments »
Thursday, October 23rd, 2008
I’m a spinster y’all. I wasn’t aware of this, but over recent years, my grandmother likes to point it out at every available opportunity (and even some that aren’t so available, she’s saying it anyway).
Apparently, I’m washed up. Time has all but run out for me. Grams doesn’t seem to have much hope left in me finding a man. If you’re a new reader here, I should probably point out that I’m 27. What’s that? I’m still young, you say? Well, not according to the grandma circuit.
I love my grandmother to death, but we are very different people. She’s about to turn 80 and is apparently unaware that women’s lib happened a while ago. For my generation of chicks, marriage, kids, the white picket fence and all, may not be the top priority. To my grandmother, she doesn’t understand why I’m wasting my time with all this career nonsense. I just need to find me a good man and settle down.
And hey, one day, I do plan on doing that, just not right now. There’s a whole heap of stuff I plan on doing before that and I recognise hoards of women before me sacrificed a lot for me to have those opportunities.
Earlier this year, I was out with my grandma, meeting one of her friend’s daughters for the first time. This lady, in her 50s, was asking about my gypsy life, my interest in living different places. She was very impressed with it and said ‘well, good for you. Enjoy it. Don’t settle down any time soon.’ ‘I don’t plan to!’ I replied. My grandmother didn’t miss a beat. ‘She’s not as young as you think she is, you know, ‘ she said. I was 26 at the time.
I get that for my grandmother’s generation, pretty much everyone was married with a couple of kids at my age. But, times have changed a little. She doesn’t see this because she lives in the country. Around her way, people are getting married in their early 20s all the time. But that’s not a real representation of society. It’s the country, for God’s sake. You have to get married and procreate to keep from dying of boredom or killing yourself.
A couple of weeks ago, I got a letter from grams containing her recipe for scallop potatoes that I’d asked for to cook for Thanksgiving dinner. She gave me the step by step instructions, then tagged on at the end ‘You are a good cook. It’s good to know you’re trying different things. Men love good cooks, so they say. You know the old saying ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”
Jesus! I just asked how to make scallop potatoes. I didn’t want a side dish of ‘you’re gonna die alone’ and ‘you better start cooking for the fellas’. I don’t know who exactly she thought would be at my Thanksgiving dinner, but she may be disappointed to know that it was my female friends, some of their boyfriends and a bunch of gay boys. Not a single, straight man in sight. Incidentally, I have no doubt that the talk at my grandmother’s weekly game of ‘chicken feet’ has turned to how I’m probably one of those lesbians.
If my grandmother was out here on the singles scene, maybe she could gain some appreciation for how shallow the pool is.
I’ve tried to explain to her that I would like to get married one day, but if that doesn’t happen for me, I intend to live a very full and happy life, regardless. Happiness for women, is not necessarily dependent on a man anymore. Misery however, is. I kid, I kid.
But just so I don’t have to deal with the constant onslaught of ‘when are you getting married?’ queries, I’m putting out an open call for the part of my phony husband. If you’re a guy (being straight isn’t necessarily a requirement) and are perhaps under similar scrutiny from the older female members of your family, lets team up and engage in a phony marriage, just to shut them up for a while.
Any takers?
Tags: grandma, men, old timers
Posted in relationships | 5 Comments »
Tuesday, September 23rd, 2008
Last weekend I reluctantly went on a ‘date’. I didn’t really consider it a date, as such. My friend is dating this dude and her dude told his friend about me and said friend wanted to meet me. Following? Good.
My friend called me around 6pm, telling me she hadn’t heard from her fella all day. Great sign. She called again around 7.30 saying he’d text her and would be picking us up at 9pm from her house. So, I mustered up my pretty, threw on a nice outfit and made my way to her house for 9 o’clock. Our dates didn’t show up till 9.30.
SSSTTTT-RIKE ONE
I cannot abide lateness. I don’t care what your excuse is. And when my friend has been making a big deal about how you want to meet me, surely there is no excuse. I was ready to blow off dinner, go pick up a slice and take my ass home.
We all get in a cab to go to a restaurant. On the way, the fellas admit that they’ve already eaten.
SSSTTTT-RIKE TWO
What the hell is this?! Seriously, how do you invite someone out to dinner, arrive late and then break the news that you already chowed down at home? My stomach was eating itself for God’s sake!
We got to the restaurant, where just me and my friend ordered food. The evening itself was not unpleasant. I wasn’t attracted to my guy, but his conversation was nice enough. What was uncomfortable however, was the fact that my friend is dating a man who clearly bats for the other team and I can’t believe she hasn’t realised it. The more he drank, the gayer he got. It was kind of mindblowing. He’s also 18 years older than her, so it’s like she’s dating her gay daddy. Very strange.
We finish eating and the bill comes. I throw in $20 or $30 and my guy doesn’t even flinch.
SSSTTTT-RIKE THREE
OK, I’m always going to pay for myself on a first date, regardless, but if you requested to meet me and invited me out for dinner, it’s only good manners that you pay. Or at least play the game of telling me to put my money away and let me insist. But no, nothing. Even my friend’s gay daddy was dropping heavy hints, saying ‘there’s way too much there,’ when my guy was counting the money. And he said ‘no, it’s fine.’ I venture to say that it isn’t fine at all, my friend. It’s very far from ‘fine.’ I appreciate a gentleman. I appreciate chivalry and good manners. If you can’t afford to cough up $20 for your date’s meal, you should stay your ass at home.
We lived in the same part of town so we shared a cab. It was on this journey that I discovered that the guy is about to turn 41 years old.
SSSTTTT-RIKE FOUR
OK, I don’t even know if you can get four strikes, but this guy is getting ‘em. I had been told by my friend that he was in his 30s. Early to mid thirties, I can handle, but 41? I don’t need to be anyone’s mid-life crisis, thank you. I’m not anti-age gap, but I think 13 years is a little much for me.
And there you have it. My waste of a saturday night. Moral of the story? Don’t let your friends set you up.
Tags: Lame dudes, men, the gays
Posted in relationships | 7 Comments »
Tuesday, September 16th, 2008
A friend of mine told me I should write about my ideal man. Given my luck with men recently, I’m pretty much subscribing to the theory that if he has two legs and a penis, we’re good to go. It seems pointless having a laundry list of requirements when it’s so obvious no one’s ever going to live up to them. But I see nothing wrong with having standards. So, let me present to you, what I look for in a man AKA ‘the reasons I will die alone’.
Must be tall
I’m tall. He has to be taller. And still tower over me when I’m in heels, which is most of the time. I’ve dated short men and they all have Napoleon syndrome – life is too long for me to be dealing with that crap.
Preferably not have a face like a cobbler’s thumb
If I can bring the pretty, so can he.
Must have a sense of style
While I love to dole out the fashion advice, I don’t expect to have to tell a grown man to wear matching socks.
Be nice, but don’t be a pussy
I can opt in for a bit of sap and romance every now and then, but I need to know that if some fool steps on my stilettos, my man has got my back.
Be employed
I’m not saying he has to have achieved his 5 year plan already (’cause Lord knows, I’m not close to mine), but at least be trying. Have goals and I’ll support them, but he better be supporting himself on his way to the top.
Don’t lie
Yeah, yeah, I know – this one is a non-starter. Men lie constantly, for no apparent reason, about things that don’t even appear to warrant a lie. I’m thinking if we can even get this down to a one lie for every four truths ratio, we’re making progress.
Don’t cheat
Yeah again, a non-starter, but a girl can dream. I don’t need some random chick calling me freaking out just because you want to look like a pimp. I don’t need that drama. Grow some balls and just say you don’t want to be with someone before you move on to your next victim.
Be childless
Been there, done that and where there is a man with children, there is a crazy baby mama waiting in the wings to hate on you. Call me old fashioned, but I was kinda hoping that I’d be the only one bearing children for the man I’m with. Plus, even if the guy is a dead beat dad, he will still pull the ‘kid’ card at some point and you can’t argue with that. If he can’t stay with the woman who gave birth to his kids, I’m not going to kid myself that he will stay with me.
Have a sense of humour
I like to laugh. A lot. If he doesn’t understand sarcasm, we won’t get along.
Not have multiple personalities
Being one way with me and another way with his friends is a no go. While it’s sometimes beneficial to date multiple people, when all those people come wrapped up in the same body, it’s just confusing.
No secrets
When you find out about someone’s wife/kids/drug habit/prison record/mental illness months down the road into a relationship, it’s a little uncomfortable. So if he could try and be upfront about those things, it would spare me having to punch him in the balls/go on some sort of mind altering medication.
Must have exceptional taste in music
If he gets pissy when I’m blasting Curtis Mayfield and switches the CD in favour of some Jonas Brothers, I will slap his wack ass to next tuesday.
Have some sort of moral compass
Knowing the difference between right, wrong and ‘fucked up things you should never do’ and being able to apologise when he crosses a line is pretty essential.
Don’t pull jedi mind tricks
Do not play me. On any issue. Ever. When he messes up, I get mad, then he gets mad at me for getting mad and I feel guilty and before we know it, he’s off the hook? Hell no. Just writing that confused me.
And that’s about it. I like to think these things are pretty basic, but I’m 27, have been dating for 10 years and well…the future looks bleak amigos, the future looks bleak.
Tags: men, pipe dreams
Posted in relationships | 8 Comments »