Past The Sell-By Date

Okay, this one got a series of snorks from me, because I’m a sick bastard.  A sample:

All the comments are from women… and sadly, they’re more tragic than funny.

I think that Feminism, when viewed from a historical perspective, will prove to have become completely counter-productive (if not actually destructive) for women after the 1970s, simply because I think it was founded on a faulty premise:  unlike the famous saying, the fact is that you can’t have it all — never could, never will.  Life is a series of compromises, but some compromises are worse than others — women waiting to get married until they’re in their mid- to late thirties being a good example.

If you have daughters in their late teens or early twenties, feel free to pass this link on to them, as a warning.

First They Came For The Airline Stewardesses

Back in the day when airline flying meant a chance to ogle some beautiful young women in uniform, they were called “stewardesses” or “stews”.  Often, the airlines enforced a “no married women” and even an age limit policy for the stews because, the reasoning went, if the stews had families, they’d be affected by the absense of Mommy while she’d be out of town so often.  So We The Passengers had to put up with stuff like this:

 

Then some asswipe in Big Airline HR decided that this was eeeevil  and anti-womyns  or something, with the result that nowadays, international flights resemble Grab-A-Granny Night at TGI Friday, or Open Bar Night at The Villages.  (No pics, I can’t bear the thought.)

Then last year, Sports Illustrated  took some shit because, and I quote:

“…the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue  doesn’t care about plus-sized women, athletes, or religious models. It cares about staying relevant while also profiting off men buying a magazine to drool over hot women. These silly claims of empowerment through the swimsuit issue cannot change the fact that pages of sexualized women marketed toward men are inherently sexist, insulting, and gross.”

(I even talked about it here.)

Needless to say, the stupids at Sports Illustrated  decided to make their crap magazine yet more crappy, by taking the above criticism to heart for this year’s T&A issue, hence this appalling prospect:

Wait till you see the “plus-sized” (i.e. grossly overweight) entrant… it’ll put you off chocolate cake for life.  (By the way, the granny in the above pic is quite hot, IMO, but if yer gonna put some granny-aged totty in a bikini, why not someone like Sharon Stone, or Stephanie Seymour?)

This modern attitude towards women’s bodies is starting to get to me.  As are the Woke Generation, in toto.

Don’t Do It

You know how you watch an unfurling catastrophe, shouting “Noooo!” in helpless frustration?  I speak here of events such as watching your best friend getting involved with a Train Smash Woman, or a lady friend taking up with a rancid Bad Boy, or another friend announcing with pride that he’s just put down a deposit on a Ferrari or cabin cruiser.

You know it’s all going to end horribly, with pain, tears and destruction in various forms, but you’re helpless to prevent it happening.

That’s how I feel about this development:

A crown green bowls club which has never allowed women to join as full members in its 100-year history is set to vote on whether to admit them.
Ilkley Bowling Club has about 1,700 full members, all of whom are eligible to vote in the ballot at the West Yorkshire spa town’s King’s Hall on March 3.
Women can only enter the bar of the club – which was founded in the early 1920s – as guests of members, and are banned completely during the week.
The main bar area – where a pint of beer costs less than £2 – is an entirely male preserve on weekdays and women are permitted to drink as ‘associates’ after 5pm from Friday to Sunday and on bank holidays.

Their mistake was in allowing female members in the first place, and allowing women onto the premises at all.

It’s not helped by the fact that lawn bowls is a game at which women are generally on a par with men in ability (see description here).  But a bowling club is not just about the game, is it?  Without the womyns, Ilkley B.C. would most probably be a happy place, where men can drink to excess, swear like troopers and in general act like the hooligan which lies not far beneath the surface of all of us.

If they open up membership to include the other sex, that will all change.  I know that if I were a member, I’d resign if they did — as I would in any men-only club of which I was a member.

Image by © Ron Koeberer/Aurora Photos/Corbis

And for those with short memories, it’s not the first time I’ve ranted about this topic.

Day For Night

Oh FFS, here we go again:

Bosses at Warner Bros. are allegedly considering taking on a female actress to play the role of the iconic chocolatier, after two previous adaptations starred Johnny Depp and Gene Wilder.

Is any male role safe anymore?  Dr. Who, James Bond’s “M”, Ghostbusters and countless other male roles have recently grown tits and vaginas — I mean, Jane  Bond was even considered a while ago.  (“I’d like a strawberry vodkapop… stirred, not shaken.”)

I really want some brave producer (I know, I know) to propose a movie project entitled “John Of Arc” :  the story of a humble French shepherd boy who gets a message from God, becomes a fearless military leader and rallies an army to defeat an English occupation force.  Then he’s captured and burned at the stake.

Nah, that’s just too far-fetched.  Might as well just cast a chick for the role, to get the green light.  Of course, the movie will bomb spectacularly and lose money — but who cares, as long as Teh Womynz get the gig?

Fucking bullshit.

No More Talking At The Office

Working at an office is bad enough; but working at an office and being discouraged from talking to one’s workmates is awful.  Yet that’s just what this harpy is suggesting:

Ann Francke, head of the Chartered Management Institute, has said that bosses should actively curtail male staff talking about football, cricket and rugby in case women feel ‘left out’ at work.

‘A lot of women, in particular, feel left out. They don’t follow those sports and they don’t like either being forced to talk about them or not being included. I have nothing against sports enthusiasts or cricket fans – that’s great. But the issue is many people aren’t cricket fans’. She added: ‘It’s very easy for it to escalate from VAR talk and chat to slapping each other on the back and talking about their conquests at the weekend. It’s a gateway to more laddish behaviour and – if it just goes unchecked – it’s a signal of a more laddish culture’.

And in an even-more horrifying development, I am forced to agree with Piers Morgan, who said:

‘What utter twaddle. We’ve got to stop these virtue-signalling cretins sucking all the fun out of life’.

And then the inevitable response:

Critics have said that by applying the same logic non-work related chat about TV shows such Love Island, EastEnders and Game of Thrones should also be curtailed. While others asked if workers with children could be stopped from talking about them in case it offends those without them.

Yeah… let’s just stop all non-work chatter altogether.  If it’s not work-related, then HR should have the power to swoop in and… do what?  Fire the offenders?  Have them flogged in the public square?  Have them endure yet another hectoring lecture from HR?  [Cries of “No, no!  Anything but that!  Please flog me instead!”]

I know!  Men should only be allowed to talk about such “exclusionary” topics inside men-only enclaves — except, of course, that Feministicals International has already banned those for being “exclusionary” themselves (although chick-only workspaces are, of course, just dandy).

Fuck off.  Just… fuck right off, you pissy little control freaks.

This all started when we gave them the vote.  I hope you’re all satisfied.

Shut Up. Just STFU

Some old harpy is crowing over the fact that at 59, she hasn’t yet been afflicted with the Dreaded Menopause:

I’m 59 and haven’t hit menopause – and it’s all down to great sex!

Great Caesar’s Scabby Phallus… do we have to have yet another  unbearable Baby Boomer’s revelations about the Joys Of Sex?  Can’t we all just agree that sex is great, and stop talking about it all the time?

 

I need my breakfast gin, ran out over the weekend, and the bloody booze shops don’t open for two hours yet.  Everybody take shelter.