Category Archives: Ranty ones

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On Femfresh, Freshballs, Fellaswipes and scented tampons

Gentlemen, start your engines, because it’s your turn now. Pull down your trousers, hold your dicks aloft, and start wiping them with special cock-cleansing wipes.

That’s right – worry no more. Having ridiculous expectations about your body is now no longer confined to women. And in case you were wondering, there’s also a product for your balls.

Femfresh social media fail

Last week I wrote about Femfresh – that delightful ‘feminine hygiene’ product that purported to ‘woo hoo your froo froo’ with ‘PH-balanced’ wipes, cleansers and sprays. Lovely.

Since then they’ve had something of a PR nightmare, as the Femfresh facebook page has suffered an onslaught of mockery dished out by a human race which, thanks to this, I now have a lot more faith in. Ladies and gentlemen of facebook: I salute you.

If they’ve taken it down, the Wallblog has screenshots.

What’s the point of shouting?

I feel a bit sorry for Femfresh now – yes, they’re peddling a hatefully unnecessary product. But then, so are Tampax – they sell scented tampons. So are Vagisil and Carefree. And yes, so are Freshballs and Fellaswipes.

While it’s great that one of these companies has taken a bit of a battering over a product that is designed to make us feel shameful about the natural genital smells humans produce, the reporting has been a bit confused on the issue.

The lead story (on blogs like The Wall and HuffPo) has been ‘Women start a backlash because a marketing company called their fanny a ‘la-la.” And that’s not strictly the case.

Firstly, it’s not just women. Men are offended by this shit as well – and why wouldn’t they be? Men no more call it a ‘la-la’ than they’d call their dick a ‘dinkle.’ Just because the childish words used in Femfresh’s campaign are about vaginas, that doesn’t mean that you need to have a vagina to recognise how ridiculous the campaign is. There were plenty of men on their facebook page too.

Secondly, people aren’t just angry because a company referred to vaginas as ‘la-la’s. Or ‘nooni’s or ‘kitty’s, for that matter. This language is offensive and patronising, sure, but most of the comments on the page seem to be surrounding the product itself. The misery of discovering that there was yet another thing we were expected to do to our bodies to sanitize them and prettify them before we’d be allowed out in society.

The bright side of Femfresh

I am disgusted by these products – vaginal sprays, dick wipes, scented tampons – and I am disgusted that we live in a world where people are paid to persuade us that they’re necessary.

But I’m actually pretty happy that this happened. We could have watched the next few weeks go by, occasionally making angry comments about the ads plastered on phone boxes or facebook updates about being ‘proud of your pom-pom’, but we didn’t. A huge bunch of people stepped in and gave what Femfresh – in their characteristically euphemistic way – calls ‘feedback.’ They started a massive, angry, stamping kickoff, and told them that we don’t need their bullshit.

So whether you’re male or female, the next time you see an ad or a website for ‘intimate hygiene products’ that tries to persuade you your body is disgusting and unnatural, remember that you’re fine as you are. Not only do you not stink, but the people who think you do just got utterly owned on facebook.

God bless the internet.

On the smell of your vagina

Listen up, ladies, you stink! It’s awful. Did you know that you constantly exude vaginal juices? Have you ever taken the time to just… smell yourself? Sheesh, it’s gross.

We wouldn’t mind, but this repulsive stench isn’t something you confine to the comfort of your own pathetic hovel, you’re out there amongst us in society – at the bus stop, in the office, on the tube – leaking.

You disgust us.

The considerate amongst you will by now be thinking: ‘What’s the solution? How can I prevent the unsavoury odour of my womanhood from penetrating the delicate nostrils of a general public which – completely understandably – thinks I am foul?’

Well, you need to clean yourself up, for a start. Not only should you shower every morning and wash those natural cunty juices away with a special vaginal soap, but ideally you will be aware of your potential to stink during every single waking minute of your day.

Showering in the office can be impractical, but luckily for you we have a solution. A solution to that disgusting thing that your body does. A solution that means vaginal cleanliness is not just something you need to worry about when you’re in the shower – it’s something you’re free to worry about whenever you get within sniffing distance of another human being.

Congratulations, you can ‘woo-hoo your froo froo’ with delightfully scented wipes.
And by ‘woo-hoo your froo-froo’ we mean ‘wipe your cunt.’

You, yes – you. Wipe your cunt, you disgusting bitch.

Or if you – like us – think it’s horrible and can’t bear to touch it, try spraying it with something.

There’s only one thing more abhorrent than the smell of a woman’s vagina, and that’s the smell of a woman’s menstruating vagina. Just the very idea of it has me dry-heaving. So for crying out loud if you’re on your period, have the common decency to buy some scented tampons.

Please don’t buy this shit

It is completely natural to smell of something. It is natural for your vagina to leak, and it is natural for your vagina to smell like… well, a vagina. It isn’t minty-fresh, it isn’t strawberry-flavoured and it certainly isn’t a fucking flower. But every single day marketing people will try and persuade you that it should be sweet-smelling, inoffensive, and as unnoticeable as possible.

So, from the centre of my brain right down to my post-wank musky-scented cunt – I implore you not to buy this shit.

This is important – so important – because over the next ten years this will only get worse. This post was prompted by creepy adverts that appeared in London asking women to buy products that are ‘woo hoo for my froo-froo’ – a noxious spray of marketing pisswank that doesn’t even have the courage to call a vagina ‘a vagina’.

In the future we’ll be asked not just to wax as much hair off our bodies as possible, wear makeup, conform to a certain shape, and have our tits lifted when we have the temerity to age, we’ll also be expected to panic constantly about whether our cunt smells like cunt. And woe betide us if it does.

So don’t buy this shit. Tell your friends not to buy this shit. And most of all, please remind your teenaged daughters why they don’t need to buy this shit. Because over their long lifetimes their cunts will ooze gallons of discharge and girlwank. If they grow up thinking that this is a ‘hygiene problem’ that requires a ‘solution’ we condemn them to an impossible task  – making sure that, for as much of the day as possible, their cunts smell like anything but cunt.

It’s miserable, guilt-laden bullshit created by people who want your money. They are not providing a ‘solution’ to your ‘hygiene problem’, they are inventing a problem and a new way for you to feel small, then offering to take your money to make the pain go away.

In case you think I’m being too harsh, in case you’re thinking ‘yes, but some women want this’ – fine. Some women might. I’m not going to dictate whether you should or shouldn’t wipe your cunt with expensively-packaged rags. But what I am saying – no, screaming wildly as I smash my head into the keyboard – is this:

Do it if you want to, but don’t ever let anyone persuade you that you need to.

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On 50 Shades of Grey, and other people’s porn

As a purveyor of dirty blog porn, I have an inherent bias towards masturbatory material that involves words instead of pictures. Bottom line: I want more people to read more porn.

Below are two quotes from books I’m reading at the moment. Which one would you most like to rub one out to?

Book 1

“Obediently, I turn, and my heart is thumping, desire instantly replacing unease, coursing through my blood and settling dark and yearning, low, low in my belly. He scoops my hair off my back so it hangs down my right side, curling at my breast. He places his index finger at the nape of my neck and achingly slowly drags it down my spine, his fingernail grazing my skin.”

Book 2

“I bring up a porcelain pot and place it upon my knees, the abbot backs towards me, stoops, I press his anus, pry it open, and, to be brief, agitate it in every way I think to hasten his evacuation. It takes place, an enormous turd fills the bowl, I offer it to its author, he seizes it, precipitates himself upon it, devours it, and discharges after fifteen minutes of the most violent flogging which I administer upon the same behind that shortly before had laid such a splendid egg for his breakfast.”

It won’t surprise you to read that these both come from very different books. Book 2 is ‘120 Days of Sodom’ by the inestimably disgusting Marquis de Sade, and Book 1 is ’50 Shades of Grey’ by the inestimably romantic E.L. James.

Those who have read the first book will know that it’s a fairly mainstream erotic novel, documenting one woman’s discovery of bondage and submission, as she gets drawn further into a sexy romance with an incomprehensibly wealthy businessman. Those who have read the second book will probably still be trying to make the nightmares stop.

I’m a little bit annoyed by 50 Shades of Grey – probably not for the reasons people think. I don’t care that it’s a bit fluffy, or that its wide-eyed shock at the idea of spanking ignores the fairly mainstream nature of the practice. What I really care about is the sheer number of people who have pushed it at me and gone “Hey, GOTN, write a scathing blog post about this!”

50 Shades of Grey is good

I’m going to say it loudly and clearly – 50 Shades of Grey is good. It’s not something I am deeply absorbed by, nor is it something that has led me to slick my knickers and knock a quick one out before bed. But it’s not the tedious drivel-fest that angry people had led me to expect.

There are some parts of the book that, although not written in a way that gets me off, still evoke certain things that can spark my imagination. Right at the beginning our heroine (Anastasia, since you asked) nearly steps out into the road, and our wealthy be-suited hero (Christian) pulls her into his arms. She stays there for a while, trembling and willing him to kiss her.

“Pah!” You cry. “What shite is this? I thought it was a dirty book – why am I reading about a woman in love crying out for a romantic smooch?”

You’re not – you’re reading about a man so dominant and controlling that he can have a woman throbbing with fucklust in the middle of the street. And he is so fucking good – so in control and hard and arrogant and domly – that he makes her throb and yearn by not doing anything at all.

I’ve been in just this situation with dominant guys. The waiting, the desperation, the occasional moans of frustration while a controlled and controlling man decides what he wants to do to you. He might beat you then walk away. Tie you down, sit on your chest and then stroke his cock just inches from your gaping, hungry mouth. He might bend you over and rub the tip of it right over your clit, pushing the end ever so slightly into you, holding you down as you try to push back, wanting him to push the full length of his dick into your throbbing, aching wet cunt.

OK, so the scene in the book doesn’t feature actual cock, and if it featured actual cunt Anastasia would refer to it cringingly as her ‘sex’, but there’s something there that’s hot nonetheless. Although not explicit it conjures a feeling that has so far made thousands upon thousands of readers shudder inside, and ache with a desperate need to be touched.

50 Shades of Grey is not for you

Did I crack one off to 50 Shades? No. At least not yet – I’m only halfway through. But the reason I didn’t is because, as I said above, it’s not for me. I rub one out primarily to cock pictures, videos of dudes wanking and my own sordid and repulsive imagination. So it’s not written with people like me in mind, and if you’re reading this blog, it’s probably not written for you either.

There’s an excellent passage where our dominant, wealthy hero takes Anastasia through a list of soft and hard limits – he asks what he can do to have her panting but not phoning the police. She says yes to spanking, no to anal fisting, but ‘maybe’ to buttsex. And that sums it up perfectly:

50 Shades of Grey is not a book for people who crack one off to sex blogs – 50 Shades is a book for people who say ‘maybe’ to buttsex.

Although I wince at some of the phrasing, although I am embarassed reading it on the train because I don’t want to be seen as a girl who might giggle at the word ‘penis’, although it’s essentially the Twilight of the porn world, I still don’t want to be rude about 50 Shades. Because as long as some people find it hot and wank to it, it’s done its job well.

50 Shades vs the Marquis de Sade

Some people will read erotica that you find cheesy and saccharine. Others will read filth so foul it’ll blow your mind. I like to think (if anyone’s got a lucrative book deal to offer) that I fall somewhere in the highly-marketable area between the two.

My point is that porn is incredibly personal, and it makes me a bit uncomfortable that so many people are pointing and laughing at a book that, for some, could represent their first foray into literary filth.

I like that it exists, because it gives those who like it the opportunity to read it, and it gives people like us, who might have more honed and explicit tastes, the opportunity to reject it on the way to a different bookshelf. But I don’t want to mock it because for those who love it, it’s a very personal glimpse into their fantasies. By all means express an opinion, but delivering a scathing critique could cripple their arousal and leave them feeling cold and pathetic. I don’t want anyone to dip into porn only to be told that their specific taste in filth is laughably wrong, and they shouldn’t bother.

Personally I want to read something much more sordid and direct – I want to read about girls crying with lust as they’re pounded by teams of angry, horny men. I want words like ‘encunted’ and ‘spunk’, and I want porn that takes me from arousal to disgust and then back again until I wonder if I should be arrested. 

But over and above all this I want to see more people getting comfortable with their sexual desires, and being able to discuss those desires without being torn to shreds by more experienced perverts who call their fantasies mediocre. Whether they’re braving the horrors of de Sade or flirting with 50 Shades of Grey, I just want more people to read more porn. 

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On equal marriage

Liberals are a funny bunch. We can be powerfully and passionately political, but get so bogged down in earnest discussion that we forget the very basics. I am guilty of this sometimes – I overthink the linguistic implications of trying to ‘reclaim’ the word ‘slut’, and miss out on some fun-sounding slutwalks.

But we should never forget why the basics are important. Last night I had a timely reminder, when I met a friendly, liberal guy in a pub who argued against equal marriage:

“If we let gay people get married then we legitimise the institution of marriage. And aren’t there more important things to do, like fix the economy? Oh, and if gay people can get married then what’s to stop polygamous groups asking for multiple marriages?”

Put on your hard hats, people: I’m about to throw some rocks.

We shouldn’t ‘let’ gay people get married

It is not a question of ‘letting’ anyone do anything – you’re not giving gay people your permission to get married – you are obliged to give them the same rights and freedoms as you’d give anyone else.

If someone is released from prison because they’re found innocent you’re not ‘letting them leave’ you are obliged to give them their freedom back.

There’s a beautiful picture doing the rounds on the internet showing some idiotic right-wingers from 40 years ago protesting against mixed race marriage. It’s contrasted with a contemporary picture of people protesting gay marriage with the slogan “Imagine how stupid you’ll look in 40 years

Fuck whether you’ll look stupid in 40 years – you look stupid right now. You’re failing to recognise that, regardless of who someone loves, shags and visits Ikea with, they are still fundamentally a person.

So it’s not a question of ‘letting’ gay people do the same as straight people. We are morally obliged to give all people the same basic freedoms. So let’s get on with it.

There are more important things than gay marriage

Yes, there are many things more important than the human rights of those in the western world who are already blessed with rights aplenty. If you’re worried about that then be my guest – pick a charity and open your fucking wallet.

But in the meantime it’s so rare – so heartbreakingly rare – that we have the opportunity to make such a monumental difference. It’s a teeny tiny legislative change, and it’s simple. Compared to dismantling the NHS or reviving a sluggish economy, it’s as simple as breathing in and out.

You could wake up one morning and find yourself in a society that is fundamentally fairer than the one in which you went to bed. That is an opportunity so fantastic that not seizing it seems wilfully destructive. So get on with it.

We’re opening the door to polygamy!

Leaving aside the question of whether we should actually legalise multiple marriages, this is a huge, ridiculous, stinking red herring. Why? Well, legislating for multiple marriages is infinitely more complex and ethically challenging than simply removing the gender specifications from a current marriage law.

It’s not a ‘slippery slope’ – it’s a completely different mountain. We can discuss polygamy another time, but right now we’re talking about legalising gay marriage. Let’s get on with it.

Gay people shouldn’t legitimise the institution of marriage

I am unlikely to ever get married. The party appeals but the rest leaves me cold with horror. I won’t get married – I think marriage is shit. But if some people have the legal right to eat that shit then I don’t see why anyone else shouldn’t have the same goddamn right to chow down on it too.

If you think that marriage is so bad that gay people shouldn’t do it, and you’re waving banners calling for an end to all marriage – gay and straight – then good on you. I won’t march along on your protest but I’ll respect your slightly odd opinion.

But you’re not, are you? You’re not. You’re saying ‘marriage is shit, leave it to the straights’. Which sails so far and fast past the point that the point itself is but a tiny dot on the horizon.

Here, I think, is the key – we should legalise gay marriage even if gay people don’t want it. Because I am straight, I can make a stand against the institution of marriage by choosing not to get married. At the moment some people don’t even have that choice – they can’t actively reject an institution that they were forbidden from joining anyway.

So even if every single gay person in the whole world decides that marriage isn’t for them, they should have the same right as I do to say ‘I don’t’. The act of marriage isn’t as important as the choice itself – a choice which should be offered to all people equally. So let’s get on and offer it.

Being gay is fundamentally wrong

I’m not going to get into this. If your religion or your personal ethics are so viscerally anti-gay marriage then you’re not going to change your mind after reading a rant from a sex blogger. You probably clicked off the page a long time ago, so this post isn’t for you.

It’s for the liberals who argue that there are more important things, for the lefties who say that gay people should boycott marriage because the institution itself is flawed. It’s for the people who say ‘we’ve got civil partnerships, that’s close enough’. It’s for those who aren’t interested one way or another because they know that gay marriage will become legal eventually, so what’s all the fuss about?

This post is for you. At the moment the UK government is holding a consultation on marriage equality. And although I love a good pub debate, I don’t want to sit arguing about the nuanced implications of our individual viewpoints while one of the best opportunities to advance equality slips through our fingertips.

So we can fight about the detail over a pint, or we can recognise that no matter what our liberal quibbles, all people should be treated equally. Let’s just get on with it, shall we?

On men, and how they’re only after one thing

Women – you’re bloody lucky, you know. OK, you might have to deal with a bit of sexual harassment in the workplace, or people making mad assumptions about the way you dress and carry yourself, but it’s all OK because you can have sex any time you like.