Tag Archive: humour


#100happydays Day 13

The only way UP could be used to describe the walk I just had was if you put a four lettered word before it. The god of comedy of situation was out in full force today.

Getting the dogs out of the car is always a tricky one – I have to block the door, attach them one at a time to their leads, and then let them out. So at any stage I have a number of dogs in the car desperate to get out, and a number out of the car desperate to get into the park. So that’s always good for a laugh.

Today as I got them all out Dorothy managed to slip out of her harness, and feeling the lack of restraining leash, went a gambolling. I called, her. She heard. And promptly ignored me. Ideally I would have gone straight to her, been very stern and reattached her. Only Ozzie and Pippa had by then discovered delicious smells in opposite directions. Thank goodness I have orangutan arms and got to her before she ran into the road.

Untangle the leads and off we go. Only other people walk their dogs with no leads and my dogs are always super excited to see other dogs and run at them. I am trying to train mine not to but we haven’t got there yet. So three times this walk I had three dogs I was pulling back towards me as they wriggled and tried to sniff the new dog, the uncontrolled dog! They clearly did not go to military school because there is no controlled advance. No, there is jumping and running and leaping and coming back to me to make sure I have seen the other dog, and falling over each other and generally being fools. All while attached to leads I am holding. Expectedly, the three leads look like a bowl of spaghetti trying to learn to break dance.

After sitting trying to control dogs who want to walk while I untangle a knot of epic proportions, I finally gave up and let them walk together in their tangled mess. At which point another unleashed dog came past, mine ran with joy to say hello, and both girls broke their leashes. Mayhem ensued with the owner of the other dog doing precisely, exactly, absolutely nothing.

My glasses flew off my shirt, my dogs ran around, my brow sweated and I sat on the ground laughing at what it all must have looked like from afar.

Once I had corralled them all I tied the girls remaining lead bits to Ozzie’s collar and we tried to get back to the car. Only the dogs don’t walk in straight lines so poor Ozzie kept getting leash between his legs, across his nose and around his ears. Poor chap just kept sitting down and looking at me imploringly to release him for the fresh hell he was enduring.

Into the car we get, home we drive.

Yay – it is all over

Only it isn’t. As the dogs jump out of the car I see a pile of regurgitated dog breakfast bigger than any one of the actual dogs in the back of the car.

Bloody brilliant

Frustrating as it all was – it has made me laugh and smile for ages. so its a #100happydays moment – even if a ludicrous one

shaven haven

An article i wrote for a website a few years ago

Shaven Haven. Bald Beaver. Smooth Snatch. A lack of pubic hair is now the norm for young women and is generally desired by men, considered more hygienic by women and better looking by both. How did that happen? In one generation, the bush got beaten. And we didn’t resist or even see it happen. I decided it was time to look at how and why this happened.

As twelve or thirteen year olds, girls are given THAT ‘adolescent speech’. While squirming with embarrassment and trying not to think of our parents actually doing IT, we are told that our bodies are going to go through some changes. Part of these changes are a thickening and darkening of the hair in our armpits and pubic area. Our moms probably told us that we should shave our legs and armpits as that hair is on display and ugly. What our moms probably didn’t tell us was that at the age of twenty or so we will shave all of our pubic hair off and return in some ways to our twelve year old selves, just with breasts. So with our most intimate partners, in times of great connection as well as times of random fucking, we are going to portray a sanitised scraped clean, childlike version of ourselves.

But its cleaner that way I hear you all shout. Cleaner??? Cleaner than what? We all have head hair. Is that smelly and dirty? No. We live in an age of regular showers and ever present loo paper. There is no reason why any woman in the 21st century who is in a position to read this article should ever have a smelly vajayjay. We have access to cleaning materials for daily cleanliness and doctors should some S.T.D sneak through a condom. Pubic hair is part of our design and exists to catch the pheromones we exude. By denying that most female and fertile of smells as natural, we are creating an even more sanitised version of ourselves to present to lovers. They may as well go stick their dicks in a speculum. All shiny, smooth and clean. It’s supposed to be soft and hairy and smell like a woman.

But back to what men want. Perhaps pubic hair does require some delicate manoeuvring when torpedo tonguing, but honestly, is everything we women do for men a picnic? Do guys have any idea how often their dicks whiff of urine? Do they not know that their farts get stuck in their jocks sometimes, only to be released later, hideously matured, in our faces? Blow jobs are not all sweet smelling and roses you know. And let’s not even start on what sperm tastes like. I think parting a little hair to get at the important bits while going down on a woman should hardly be considered a huge issue in comparison. But apparently men don’t want to have pubic hair in their way. I ask you though, if there is no hair can we still call it muff diving, a fur burger or even a beaver? We are going to have to think of new words for these fabulous bits of slang, somehow going ‘smooth surfing’ rather than ‘muff diving’ just doesn’t sound as sexy.

The shaven haven is also considered to simply look better. What we think looks good, is beautiful or desirable, is not a personal decision much as we like to think it is. It’s a social construct. Different countries of people find different things attractive. They have to. If every person you ever see has green eyebrows, you damn well better find them sexy or you are never gonna want any. And that’s not good for the propagation of the human race. The image of the perfect woman has been through many manifestations. The Mona Lisa has no eyebrows, Rubin’s women were plump and curly haired, the models of the sixties were rake thin, porn queens of the seventies had copious amounts of pubic hair and now it’s all about smooth and clean shaven. The men at every stage mentioned found what was prolific, sexy. And now young men find bald beaver sexy. And they really do. It’s just important that they, and we, know it’s a fashion thing. Just like big hair and leg warmers in the eighties. We shudder when we think of that and perhaps we will shudder as forty year olds in the 2020s to think of what we did to our pubic hair.

And let’s all hope like hell that this constant, and unnatural, scraping of this most sensitive skin, together with constant touching by our clothing, doesn’t desensitise that area. Wouldn’t it be a cruel irony if all this de-hairing for the sake of men, perceived aesthetics and hygiene resulted in decreased sexual pleasure for us eventually? That’ll teach us to pander to men and fashion!

I blame porn for the popularity of the shaven haven. Air brushed fantasy women images abound. No one has labia like those so graphically exposed in skin mags like Hustler. And many women don’t know this. Most of us have only ever seen our own genitalia and have no idea that we are probably perfectly normal and the image on the page or screen is the one that isn’t. So we have managed to find yet another situation in which we can attempt to emulate this fantasy perfect woman and fail. How fucking brilliant of us. Now we have to be perfect working women, mothers and social creatures, ladies in the living room and shaven whores in the bedroom. Any more unnatural pressure we wanna put on ourselves? Cummon, surely we can handle more before collapsing in a self-hating heap. Sex seems to no longer be about how comfortable and connected we feel with a partner, or about how rampantly horny we are, but about worrying about leg hair, armpit hair, pubic hair, smell and taste. Why oh why have we created yet another restriction and let an addition prerequisite creep in?

But, considering that when asked, most American girls interviewed said they thought that Barbie, plastic sealed smooth fanny and all, was one of the two perfect bodies to aspire towards (the other being Britney, pre weight gain and psychological breakdown) it would appear that I alone stand hairy and proud.
The idea of this article is not to stop or even criticize women who do shave. It rather seeks to ask you shaven women to examine and know why you do it. And if you are okay with the ‘why’, than carry on. It’s your choice, that’s the point