Category Archives: Ranty ones

Headboards and rails: the best bed for sex

Oh happy day! I have acquired the greatest thing! It is amazing and sexy and it lives in my house now, and never again shall I forget how much it means to me! After a suspiciously successful visit to Ikea I now have the best bed for sex – a metal framed one with a headboard – that I can hook my toes behind while I get vigorously fucked.


Caught fucking on CCTV: time for these pieces to die

Are you one of those people who comments ‘why is this news?’ under every article you don’t like on the internet? Many find you irritating, but I am here to give you a task for which the world will – eventually – thank you. I’d like you to bring your rage, your keyboards, and your frustration to a specific type of article: exposés of people who get caught fucking on CCTV.


If you’re reading this anywhere except, it’s stolen

A bunch of scraper sites are automatically reposting blog posts from my site. Not just my own work, but that of guest bloggers and Stuart who draws the fantastic images that go with them. I am devastated by this, and doubly devastated by the fact that I can’t seem to get it taken down, despite repeated emails and reports to their domain provider, hosting provider, and others. So please do me a favour: if you are reading this blog post anywhere other than on Girl on the Net – the url is – please leave the site and come read it here instead.


Does the new Gillette ad mean we’re winning?

Are you looking for a hot take on the new Gillette ad? You’ve come to the right place, because I’ve got LOADS of them. Let’s explore whether Gillette highlighting – and fighting against – toxic masculinity is a) the greatest thing to ever have happened, b) the WORST THING EVER or c) something in between.


The sweat of his labour: a deeply unrealistic Christmas fantasy

As snow falls on the ground outside, she reaches out to him in the darkness and whispers: “Talk to me. Tell me something sexy.” He shifts a little to draw her closer, pressing his warm skin against her own. Bringing his lips close to her face, he ponders the things most likely to turn her on.

“I’ve finished writing all the Christmas cards,” he says. “All you need to do is sign them.”