Die Pink Patch Die

August 14, 2008

I am so sick of seeing the PinkPatch adverts, on my email, Facebook and other websites. I don’t want to look at a skinny torso in cheap underwear. It irritates me. This is a part of my body I store under an array of delightful clothing, occasionally displayed to people who know me well enough to judge me on my personal qualities. I resent being encouraged to compare my torso and find it wanting. I resent the glaring implications. Is my abdomen this flat? Can I see my hip bones? Are the only curves on my body the ones that curve inward?

No. But I don’t hate my body. Fuck off PinkPatch for implying I should.

I know this is old news but godfuckingdamnit when will the damn thing fuck off.


Minor rant

June 6, 2008

Today I learned that ‘Harold and Kumar get the munchies’ is called ‘Harold and Kumar go to Whitecastle’ in the American release. This strikes me a ridiculous as changing the title doesn’t remove the umpteen drug references not to mention the massive bag of weed they spend several scene chucking across the room. I can only think that there must be people who are genuinely offended by the possibility that a film that may make reference to drugs/drug culture will be available in a cinema near them. I would have thought it was safer for them to know what it was straight off so they could avoid it from the off but – oh gosh – I’m just not thinking of the children: they might read a word and be corrupted by it.

remember that kids: don’t read, don’t think, stay safe.

What’s going on in my world today?

May 30, 2008

Link, and rant, link and rant and rant *the itchy and scratchy shoooow*

First the sad news:


The American army’s use of phosphorous in the Iraq war has caused a sudden surge in the number of birth defects – nice one guys. I’m not going to go into whether or not the war was needed, justifiable, a failure or any of the rest of it because it’s too late, it’s done now and you can’t undo it. Sadly these people, random civilians presumably not involved in the conflict, are now suffering as the result of a poorly researched technology. Anyone going to take responsibility for this? I can believe it was a mistake as they probably checked to make sure short term exposure to adults (ie their soldiers) wouldn’t cause harm and that they probably wouldn’t have researched the affects on long term exposure and developing foetuses. But they still did it so they should make some form of apology.

The thing that bothers me about this is that the BBC is not reporting it. I have searched their website and there is no sign of this. Would it be some form of politcal dissent? The more I look outside the BBC the more I see its limitations and biases. Also if you ever want to feel angry you can read their Have Your Say pages which are full of fascists complaining about too much liberalism (where?) ruining the world.

No wait – if you really want to feel angry you should read the Daily (hate) Mail. I don’t know why I go there so often, it surely must be bad for my health. I used to avidly read Liz Jones’ column about her life believing it was satire – that is how terrifying, exaggerated and pathetic the woman’s life is. All she has taught me is that if you think seperating your eyelashes with a pin will impress men then you don’t deserve respect.

What really angered me about the daily fail today was this article about ‘retrosexuals’ which forms part of their recent anti-feminist attack:


The article insists that men are better when they can’t dress, wash, cook, take care of their homes or property, pay for everything (with cash, like a drug dealer) but then leave at the first wiff of commitment (why not save the hassle and pay to use a trafficked hooker? At least she’s tied to the bed and can’t follow you to your decrepid hovel). There is also the assumption that all men like football and are homophobic. In my experience the more that a man tries to live up to these viciously restrictive ideals the more of a prick he is. So thanks Daily Male for reinforcing the negative behaviour of fucktards while claiming that feminists make RealMen(tm) into pussies.


May 28, 2008

In the way back when hobbies, entertainments and parties were called diversions. I’m not sure what people were diverting themselves from, but it feels like they had these specially arranged distractions every so often that provided fun and gossip. We’ve probably got more distractions than actual productive tasks now. I want to say something about comparitive levels of altruism but my history isn’t good enough to back it up. I think distractions are only meant to be short term though, and too many people treat them as the be all and end all to their detriment.

On an unrelated topic: I need to sleep. If you have read the other posts you will know that I do not to well when sleep deprived. Things like train disruptions (thank you Virgin for your needlessly wank service, and London Midland for the no warning when moving my train time for 2 days) enrage me to unreasonable levels. Forming sentences is taxing (this post sponsored by sin coffee). Unfortunately I can’t really complain about the reason for my lack of sleep (a damn good shag) but the timing could have been better. Particularly as my partner knows I need at least as much if not more sleep than him and he gets to lie in an extra 2 hours after I get up for work (a reasonable half eight to my half six). And I overslept by 20 minutes today, meaning no gentle wake up with soothing peppermint tea.

As I rant I realise what a precious and spoilt creature I am to complain of my minor inconveniences when I could be a starving third world orphan suffering the molestations of the UN. I found it daft when the news reader last night said some nations don’t want to admit if their people have been involved in this to protect the countries’ reputations – because being a nation that condones and hushes up rape is so much better. Maybe they should have that as a screening question in interviews: “If you think the stress and pressure of working out there among the suffering is going to make you feel a bit rapey you should probably consider something else.”

Sidenote: 45 pages into Save me the Waltz and loving the swirling narrative style.