A tart with her tits hanging out
or a slut who is always in rut
or a chick on a search for a dick
that’s entertainment?
A jill who is exists for the thrill
of a john who is always hard-on
or a joe who is raring to go
that’s entertainment?
A maid who is laid by a man she just met
a bitch with an itch to be screwed by a vet
the perv who deserves everything that she’ll get
and you know that she’ll get it
so hard she won’t forget it
A “girl” who is thrown in a whirl
by the boss when he asks for a toss
and she never fails to come across
that’s entertainment?
The whores who don’t wear any drawers
every man’s got the thing she adores
and you know that she’ll take it from scores
that’s entertainment?
The chick loves to lick at a donkey-sized chunk
of the jock with a cock the size of a tree-trunk
who will then spray her with a gallon of “gunk”
She’s not there to have fun too
she’s just there to be done to
Every woman’s got tits like balloons
at the sight of a penis she swoons
if the heroes are hung like baboons
that’s entertainment?
Woman used like inflatable toys
they’ll do anything to please the boys
that’s the fantasy that porn enjoys
Every woman’s a whore
are you really sure
that’s entertainment?
About Me
- Frances will do
- London, England, United Kingdom
- I'm severely visually impaired [so be gentle with my typos!] and have an inoperable injury to my lower spine: apart from that, I'm as miserable as the next person! That's not my real star-sign on my profile, but my dad died on my birthday in 2001, so I now share his
Friday, 19 February 2010
Friday, 5 February 2010
fight nosy websites!
I just had cause to contact a company via its website to ask a question about a product.
I eventually found the “contact us” button, carefully hidden from casual view; it opened a form, not an email, and I filled out my title and name and then typed out my question and clicked on Send.
The message refused to send because I had not given my street name. I put in a variation of my standard response: “why bother” and Sent again.
It refused to send because I had not told them which city I lived in. I did another gibberish answer and Sent again.
It refused to send because I had not given my postcode. I made up a sequence and Sent again.
It refused to send because I had not given my phone number. I put in a random sequence of numbers and Sent again.
This time it deigned to accept the message.
Now WTF do they want with that extra information? I emailed them, I want an email back. Do they need to know which city, and what part of which city, I live in to be able to do that?
I certainly don’t want them phoning me, or, more importantly, selling on my details to phone spammers.
Why do they think they need to know all this before they’re able to email me back?
Why do they think they have the right to demand that I give them this information before I’m allowed to send them a sodding email in the expectation [hope, really] of getting a sodding email back?
I never give more than the absolute minimum of data on principle (do I have to give my phone number if I want to buy a packet of crisps at a local shop? Do I have to prove where I live to ask someone in the street for directions?).
And also because I don’t see that it’s any of their damn business. If we do a deal and I buy a product from them, then they’ll need my address. If they send me a brochure through the post, then they’ll need my address. In neither case will they need my phone number.
The only data that they actually need are my name and email address. But they do these forms which demand hat you give them everything except your credit card details!
Rebel! Send rubbish answers to impertinent or gratuitously irrelevant and intrusive demands for personal information. I'll probably be on their records as living in “why bother” street in “myob” city with a postcode of N1 0NE and a phone number of 01234567889.
Don’t give the sods any more information than they actually need to be able to deal with your query.
Wonder if there’s a law against demanding unnecessary details in forms such as this? If there ain’t, there should be.
I eventually found the “contact us” button, carefully hidden from casual view; it opened a form, not an email, and I filled out my title and name and then typed out my question and clicked on Send.
The message refused to send because I had not given my street name. I put in a variation of my standard response: “why bother” and Sent again.
It refused to send because I had not told them which city I lived in. I did another gibberish answer and Sent again.
It refused to send because I had not given my postcode. I made up a sequence and Sent again.
It refused to send because I had not given my phone number. I put in a random sequence of numbers and Sent again.
This time it deigned to accept the message.
Now WTF do they want with that extra information? I emailed them, I want an email back. Do they need to know which city, and what part of which city, I live in to be able to do that?
I certainly don’t want them phoning me, or, more importantly, selling on my details to phone spammers.
Why do they think they need to know all this before they’re able to email me back?
Why do they think they have the right to demand that I give them this information before I’m allowed to send them a sodding email in the expectation [hope, really] of getting a sodding email back?
I never give more than the absolute minimum of data on principle (do I have to give my phone number if I want to buy a packet of crisps at a local shop? Do I have to prove where I live to ask someone in the street for directions?).
And also because I don’t see that it’s any of their damn business. If we do a deal and I buy a product from them, then they’ll need my address. If they send me a brochure through the post, then they’ll need my address. In neither case will they need my phone number.
The only data that they actually need are my name and email address. But they do these forms which demand hat you give them everything except your credit card details!
Rebel! Send rubbish answers to impertinent or gratuitously irrelevant and intrusive demands for personal information. I'll probably be on their records as living in “why bother” street in “myob” city with a postcode of N1 0NE and a phone number of 01234567889.
Don’t give the sods any more information than they actually need to be able to deal with your query.
Wonder if there’s a law against demanding unnecessary details in forms such as this? If there ain’t, there should be.
Wednesday, 3 February 2010
Rasberries to Hollywood
Whenever you see a disabled person in a film, you just know two things:
1 – That the disability is going to feature in the story as a plot device, something to move the story along.
Even when a film shows more positive images of disability (for example, Four Weddings and a Funeral) the disability is still used as a plot device; would the wedding scene have been so dramatic if the deaf brother hadn’t had to use sign language?
There might be a token disabled person in a group, just as there are token gays, and as there used to be (?) token women and token blacks: they’re there to show that the film-makers haven’t forgotten the non-white, non-male, non-“normal” members of society.
Disabled people are never shown in films as real people with real feelings, real thoughts, real day-to-day problems, real experiences – who just happen to have a disability.
The disability is always there for a reason – it’s the disability that matters, not the person who has it. You’re not supposed to see the person, just the disability.
2 – That the disabled person will be played by a non-disabled actor.
Disabled people are still not allowed to be real people, as defined by Hollywood.
There’s a John Lennon song: “Women is the nigger of the world” [apologies for the use of that word, but it is the title of the song]. Maybe women have progressed, but the disabled haven’t been allowed to.
In the very early days of theatre, women were not allowed on stage; female parts were played by men because women weren’t real human beings.
In the early days of Hollywood, white men blacked up to play the “comic darkie” because real black people weren’t really human beings, either.
And disabled people are still non-persons. They’re still not allowed in films; they still have to be played by non-disabled actors.
Would a serious film dare to have Joan of Arc or Elizabeth I played by a man in drag?
Would a white man get away with blacking-up to play Desmond Tutu or Nelson Mandela?
Ah, but women and black people are allowed to be real people nowadays – more or less. The disabled aren’t even allowed the “less” – we still have to be portrayed by non-disabled actors.
I would include the link for the Google search page for “Raspberry Ripple Awards” but it's much too long and isn't clickable anyway: try searching for "Raspberry Ripple Awards" yourself if you're interested.
1 – That the disability is going to feature in the story as a plot device, something to move the story along.
Even when a film shows more positive images of disability (for example, Four Weddings and a Funeral) the disability is still used as a plot device; would the wedding scene have been so dramatic if the deaf brother hadn’t had to use sign language?
There might be a token disabled person in a group, just as there are token gays, and as there used to be (?) token women and token blacks: they’re there to show that the film-makers haven’t forgotten the non-white, non-male, non-“normal” members of society.
Disabled people are never shown in films as real people with real feelings, real thoughts, real day-to-day problems, real experiences – who just happen to have a disability.
The disability is always there for a reason – it’s the disability that matters, not the person who has it. You’re not supposed to see the person, just the disability.
2 – That the disabled person will be played by a non-disabled actor.
Disabled people are still not allowed to be real people, as defined by Hollywood.
There’s a John Lennon song: “Women is the nigger of the world” [apologies for the use of that word, but it is the title of the song]. Maybe women have progressed, but the disabled haven’t been allowed to.
In the very early days of theatre, women were not allowed on stage; female parts were played by men because women weren’t real human beings.
In the early days of Hollywood, white men blacked up to play the “comic darkie” because real black people weren’t really human beings, either.
And disabled people are still non-persons. They’re still not allowed in films; they still have to be played by non-disabled actors.
Would a serious film dare to have Joan of Arc or Elizabeth I played by a man in drag?
Would a white man get away with blacking-up to play Desmond Tutu or Nelson Mandela?
Ah, but women and black people are allowed to be real people nowadays – more or less. The disabled aren’t even allowed the “less” – we still have to be portrayed by non-disabled actors.
I would include the link for the Google search page for “Raspberry Ripple Awards” but it's much too long and isn't clickable anyway: try searching for "Raspberry Ripple Awards" yourself if you're interested.
Sunday, 10 January 2010
It’s just a phaser we’re going through
The main weapons in Star Trek are phaser beams – as I understand it, they’re beams of light which are “in phase”, thereby packing a hell of a destructive punch (I imagine a kind of super-laser).
Now, when the good ship Enterprise fires at an enemy ship and misses (which seems to happen more often than not), the beams just keep going on past the target. And on, and on, and on …
And they’ll keep going on until they eventually do hit something. That might not happen for a couple of centuries, and in another part of the galaxy entirely.
That doesn’t seem to worry them at all, though it would worry me that a missed shot today could, in a hundred or a thousand years’ time, hit a ship or a planet belonging to a culture that didn’t even exist at the time that I fired the shot, and that a future war could come from that – the culture would probably blame its neighbours rather than someone from ancient times half a galaxy away.
I mean, you could put a “stop” on a photon torpedo – if it don’t hit anything within a set time, it deactivates or (since the mass of the torpedo itself, travelling at speed, would be enough to severely damage anything it collided with) self-destructs into sufficiently tiny safe fragments.
But how do you set a self-destruct on a beam of light?
Flushed with irritation
I’m pretty easy-going, but I do have one absolute house-rule: in fact I feel so strongly about it that I have a sign on my bathroom wall: “Please close the toilet lid before you flush”.
It may seem petty or overly fussy for me to ask people to do this, and especially to go to the lengths of actually typing out and printing a notice, then sticking it to the wall above the tank, but consider this ….
When water splashes down into water, other water is thrown up in reaction. Everyone must have experienced this for themselves, or at least seen this effect in those amazing pictures where water is captured falling into water, and throwing up a beautiful crown of water in response. (Found one such and added it: it's not what I was actually looking for, but it's what I actually found.)
This reaction also applies to toilets. When you flush the toilet, water falls into water, and tiny droplets of water are thrown up from the bowl and get into the air – which you then breathe in.
This also applies to anything that you’ve just put into the toilet.
And, in my house, it’s not just you that would breathe in these tiny airborne droplets of your urine, fæces or vomit! If you really want to inhale microscopic fragments of your own bodily wastes, do it in your own home, not mine.
And it’s not just an inhalation hazard. Eventually the droplets would settle out of the air – onto everything within range.
I read somewhere that one’s toothbrush should be stored at least six feet away from the toilet. This seems to indicate that six feet is the radius of the “fallout zone”. Which means that not only my toothbrush should be six feet away from the toilet: also my face flannel, body scrubs, towels …
Just think of it: you could be brushing your teeth, or washing and drying your face or body with something that holds microscopic fragments of your own piss – or even worse, someone else’s!
Tuesday, 5 January 2010
The moving pendulum
“The moving pendulum swings, and having swung, swings back”
I can’t remember when this idea or concept first occurred to me, but it’s been unconsciously building and developing, until I think I can now express it (fairly!) coherently.
The “moving pendulum” seems to be a natural consequence of Newton’s “equal and opposite reaction” – and it applies to other than pendula, too.
It also applies to people, on national, cultural, social, group and individual levels.
A repressive culture holds the pendulum unnaturally far to one side; the longer and higher it’s held back, the more extreme the release reaction will be. when that pressure is eventually (and usually suddenly) released. (I can remember watching the Berlin Wall come down, and hoping that the newly-united Germany wouldn’t let the pendulum swing too far in the opposite direction – so I was sort of thinking about this at least twenty years ago!)
A culture of repression suddenly fails, and the pendulum, having been held back so far and for so long, swings to the opposite extreme: this provokes a reactionary backlash, which provokes a counter-backlash, and so on, and on, and on …
Each time the pendulum swings, it will move almost as far in the opposite direction, and almost as far as that back again – and the higher and the longer the pendulum is held to one side, the more violent the reaction will be when it’s finally released.
Note “almost as far”. As the pendulum continues to swing, the wild oscillations will gradually lose momentum and settle down into a regular rhythm. If given the chance!
The counter-reaction will want to hold the pendulum back: maybe not quite as high as it was before, but in the same general area of its previous locked-down position.
And the people who enjoy the free-swinging will oppose that and, in the joy of being able to move at last, will move too far the other way.
And so we proceed by a series of wild oscillations: first too far in one direction, then too far in the other.
The pendulum isn’t given the time to settle down to a regular rhythm; it keeps getting bumped and jolted.
Swinging 60s from post-war austerity …
Edwardian extravagance from Victorian prudery …
Convent girls becoming sex kittens …
Poor people winning the lottery and becoming spend-a-holics ….
Laddish yobbism from the backlash to New Men which waas itself a backlash from Macho Men …
And laddette yobbism, too …
Russians harking back wistfully to the Communist regime, because the system collapsed rather than slowly dissolving, and capitalism came as one hell of a culture shock to most of them …
People can’t really handle too much change too quickly; we want stability, even if it’s a stability of repression: we might not have liked it, but at least we knew where we were then.
As I’ve said elsewhere, I have no formal science education (we did a year of basic science at my grammar school, then a year of separate biology, chemistry and physics, but girls weren’t exactly encouraged to pursue these classes after that – we were girls, what did we need to know about science other than the “domestic” variety? [This has to be a topic for a future rant!])
I can’t remember when this idea or concept first occurred to me, but it’s been unconsciously building and developing, until I think I can now express it (fairly!) coherently.
The “moving pendulum” seems to be a natural consequence of Newton’s “equal and opposite reaction” – and it applies to other than pendula, too.
It also applies to people, on national, cultural, social, group and individual levels.
A repressive culture holds the pendulum unnaturally far to one side; the longer and higher it’s held back, the more extreme the release reaction will be. when that pressure is eventually (and usually suddenly) released. (I can remember watching the Berlin Wall come down, and hoping that the newly-united Germany wouldn’t let the pendulum swing too far in the opposite direction – so I was sort of thinking about this at least twenty years ago!)
A culture of repression suddenly fails, and the pendulum, having been held back so far and for so long, swings to the opposite extreme: this provokes a reactionary backlash, which provokes a counter-backlash, and so on, and on, and on …
Each time the pendulum swings, it will move almost as far in the opposite direction, and almost as far as that back again – and the higher and the longer the pendulum is held to one side, the more violent the reaction will be when it’s finally released.
Note “almost as far”. As the pendulum continues to swing, the wild oscillations will gradually lose momentum and settle down into a regular rhythm. If given the chance!
The counter-reaction will want to hold the pendulum back: maybe not quite as high as it was before, but in the same general area of its previous locked-down position.
And the people who enjoy the free-swinging will oppose that and, in the joy of being able to move at last, will move too far the other way.
And so we proceed by a series of wild oscillations: first too far in one direction, then too far in the other.
The pendulum isn’t given the time to settle down to a regular rhythm; it keeps getting bumped and jolted.
Swinging 60s from post-war austerity …
Edwardian extravagance from Victorian prudery …
Convent girls becoming sex kittens …
Poor people winning the lottery and becoming spend-a-holics ….
Laddish yobbism from the backlash to New Men which waas itself a backlash from Macho Men …
And laddette yobbism, too …
Russians harking back wistfully to the Communist regime, because the system collapsed rather than slowly dissolving, and capitalism came as one hell of a culture shock to most of them …
People can’t really handle too much change too quickly; we want stability, even if it’s a stability of repression: we might not have liked it, but at least we knew where we were then.
As I’ve said elsewhere, I have no formal science education (we did a year of basic science at my grammar school, then a year of separate biology, chemistry and physics, but girls weren’t exactly encouraged to pursue these classes after that – we were girls, what did we need to know about science other than the “domestic” variety? [This has to be a topic for a future rant!])
Friday, 1 January 2010
Wilful misuse of words
I’m fed up with hearing that something or someone is “almost unique”.
“Unique” does not mean “very special” or “very unusual”.
It means “one of a kind, with nothing else exactly like it anywhere in the world”.
The word is not a qualifier, it is an absolute. There are no grades or shades of uniqueness: a person or a thing is unique, or it is not.
And I’m equally fed up with hearing something described as the “ultimate” book, music CD, or hair preparation.
“Ultimate” does not mean “latest” or “best”.
It means “last, final, utmost” – “the ultimate deterrent”,
“our ultimate destiny” – though people don’t usually say, “The ultimate bus stop on the route”!
Mind you, I wouldn’t mind an “ultimate diet book” if it really WAS going to be the last diet book ever!
******
Note: I’m rather freely defining the words whose common usage I’m having a go at, cos my dictionaries are packed for a house move!
You can go into Google [other search options are available!] and type “define: unique” [without the quotes] if you don’t own a dictionary yourself or can’t be bothered to find it and look up the words – though most of the “define: ultimate” hits seem to confirm the common misuse of the word.
“Unique” does not mean “very special” or “very unusual”.
It means “one of a kind, with nothing else exactly like it anywhere in the world”.
The word is not a qualifier, it is an absolute. There are no grades or shades of uniqueness: a person or a thing is unique, or it is not.
And I’m equally fed up with hearing something described as the “ultimate” book, music CD, or hair preparation.
“Ultimate” does not mean “latest” or “best”.
It means “last, final, utmost” – “the ultimate deterrent”,
“our ultimate destiny” – though people don’t usually say, “The ultimate bus stop on the route”!
Mind you, I wouldn’t mind an “ultimate diet book” if it really WAS going to be the last diet book ever!
******
Note: I’m rather freely defining the words whose common usage I’m having a go at, cos my dictionaries are packed for a house move!
You can go into Google [other search options are available!] and type “define: unique” [without the quotes] if you don’t own a dictionary yourself or can’t be bothered to find it and look up the words – though most of the “define: ultimate” hits seem to confirm the common misuse of the word.
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