LSD

It was the first time I was ever in your car, and it was exciting. Firstly, because it was night time, and driving at night time is always a little exciting to me.  Secondly, because it was on a whim. When I answered "No, I havn't been to the pier",  you said "Let's go." And finally, it was exciting because you were a pretty crazy driver and I thought you might kill us. You drove fast, you made turns you probably shouldn't have, and all the while talking animatedly with your hands, or reaching into the backseat to show me a coin collection an uncle may have given you, and glancing away from the road, to me. You'd probably had a couple beers at this stage, and were a little high. You were always a little high.

We didn't die. We parked in an empty lot, and then I started to think about how I barely knew you. Like, in a creepy way. Can you believe that?! We passed the boats, tucked in for the night, and went through a tunnel and then there we were, standing right on the edge of the lake, the city lights burning amber not too far in the distance, and the deep dark mass of water ebbing oh so quietly against the pier.
I thought about how I couldn't swim, and how all you would have to do is give me the slightest little push and I would be a goner. My roomates didn't even know I was with you, nobody did, you'd never even go down for it. This is what I was thinking while, back in the real world, you were saying something profound, or at least pretty about the city and the lake and life. I wish I recalled what we talked about instead of just knowing I tried to estimate how deep the water was where we were and calculate my chances of survival. I remember feeling a little sigh of relief when we got back in the car. Can you believe that? RELIEF! Hahaha. But then once we were driving again, flying I never wanted to stop, and I didn't want to go home. I thought about suggesting we stop somewhere for ice cream, but didn't.

Feminax changed my life. It really did. The codeine-laced painkiller was the first drug that actually worked to calm my period cramps, meaning I no longer had to skip school, cinema trips or just walking to the store for a few days each month. I had already tried prescription painkillers to no avail, so was rather impressed with this over-the-counter miracle. It's a little embarrassing, but I once actually emailed Bayer, the big, ruthless drug manufacturer to THANK them. I also wrote a poem, entitled "Ode to Feminax", so yeah, it's afe to say, I am quite the fan.

The commercial I just saw on tv, however? Not so much. Ugh, way to go ahead and lose fifty cool points, Feminax. For one, it's just a shitty advert of the same calibre as a Glade air freshener commercial. But on top of this it throws lame gender stereotypes into the mix. Woman [presumably menstruating] sitting on couch next to her boyfriend who is doing nothing wrong except engaging in normal human behaviour like breathing, smiling and ..okay, maybe flicking a booger onto the carpet. Lady overreacts slightly by catapulting the dude out the window and into the distance, ejector-seat style. Whoa, lady!

"If only getting rid of all pains was as fast as with Feminax Express...".

A pain? Way harsh, Tai! If only you weren't being a crazy, violent asshole to your boyfriend just because you're on the rag. This is one of those ads where if they switched up the genders, it probably wouldn't even be aired because it would be considered as promoting domestic violence against women. Apart from that double standard, we also have the stereotypes that women are irrational, crazy bitches during their periods [and they're "allowed"] and that boyfriends are basically overgrown babies but worse because they sweat more. Check out Sarah Haskins' clip on the "doofy husband" archetype for a decent and hilarious overview. While you're at it, check out her other Target Women clips especially Number Two, Jewellery and Feeding Your Fucking Family, because Sarah Haskins is awesome and knows badvertising when she sees it.

I still love you though, Feminax, and I meant every word of that ode.

xoxo

nice girls

“She was a nice girl,” he said. “The sort of girl where I'd have to pay for her drinks all night, you know?”

No, I don't know. What the fuck does that mean? Seriously?

I wouldn't consider a guy who expected me to pay for his drinks all night to be “nice”, so I can assume it's a gendered thing.

Maybe nice girls wear dresses and heels on their all-expenses paid dates.

Maybe nice girls order a salad while he orders the steak.

Do nice girls put out on a first date? (He went on to imply they do.)

Do they spit or swallow? (He didn't specify. I'm always quite suspicious of implied but non-specified sex.)

Can nice girls afford their own beverages?

Do they let you pay because they think it's proper?

Do they let you pay because you think it's proper?

Do they let you pay because they know they're going to earn it later on, or do they earn it later on because they let you pay?

Do nice girls get to meet your mom?

Do they get to meet your friends?

Do nice girls get to spend the whole night and then get taken out for brunch (your treat, of course)?

Are nice girls good in bed?

And if they are, does that mean they're nasty and no longer nice?

Or, on the other hand, if they don't sleep with you, are they still nice girls, or are they just cock teases, bitches and dykes?
Yeah, I thought so.

guys and dolls

Saw this advertised on the back of a Dublin bus today. [Well okay it sped off before I got a snap with my phone, so I ripped this from the website, but same thing]. I know it's not the most modern advancement in advertising to use images of hot women to shill stuff to men. I can deal with the image, and I can deal with the text, but the two combined completely changes what's being said. Seriously, nobody looked at this and thought "Wait a second, it might look we're implying the woman is just a toy for men.."? C'MON!

The convention itself actually looks pretty f'n AWESOME if I'm honest.. daredevils, ROBOTS, games, gadgets,live bands, something called THE WALL OF DEATH, I mean it sounds like a good time all round. And then the site's slideshow shows pictures of men and dads with their kids -boys and girls -interspersed with pictures of promo models.. That kinda thing really pisses me off. Yeah, take your daughter to see awesome robots and boats and other cool shit and don't even think about the fact that 'sexy' women are being paid to drape themselves all over it and what that teaches your daughter. And your son. I mean really, just think about it for a minute. Paying women to dress sexy and just hang out around shit to get men to come? That's creepy to me.

To top it off they have a page on the site entitled "4Girls", with a tag line reading "GIRLS...just leave him to it!' Here they acknowledge that women usually make up about 30% of the attendees -hm, pretty large percentage for something called Toys4Boys right? And to show their appreciation for the ladies, we get our own special events! There's a 'Pamper Zone", a "Fashion Show", and a "Diva Next Door model" search! Aaaand that's it. Cos women only care about beauty and fashion. Um yeah, "just leave him to it"? Just leave him to go see all this cool shit, while you get a manicure? I don't think so.

NEWSFLASH: Maybe, just maybe, the women that go to the robot/helicoptors/WALL OF DEATH convention go to see the robots/helicoptors/WALL OF DEATH. It's a mind blowing concept, I know.

Bristol

I packed my bags and moved to bristol

A city of hills -you are always either on your way up

or on your way down.

Stroll down by the river

past the fancy restaurants

Glass and chrome brasseries

grill houses, pan-asian cuisine

their outdoor tables filled with dates

first dates, third dates, double dates.

Past the square-cum-skatepark

where young boys in overpriced tshirts

land kickflips and ollies and fall

and dust their knees and try again

Past the little fishing boats

that bob up and down

Their names painted proudly on their sides

Kelly Maria, Hailey Ann, Elizabeth

Christened after Bristol's adored wives, daughters

long lost loves.

The sky has darkened now

the hue of lilacs and pewter

And couples amble by, hand in hand

Stroll further, past the houseboats

and apartment blocks

Men and women, jogging side by side

The couple that work out together

work out just fine.

And stand and stare

at the painted ladies

Pastel lego blocks

perched on the hill

And ask yourself how many couples

have come together within those walls

What do they see when they look out those coveted windows

at the man living alone

aboard the Sylvia?

the piano teacher

Those hands know more than brains or hearts

They know things I suspect I never could

The way the fingers glide over ivory

The knuckles pop staccato, drop-

Those hands know more

Than a piano teacher’s should.

The trained eye sees more in the score

Than my eye ever could

It follows quickly

-crotchet to cleft

But sometimes wanders

-crotch to breast

The eye spies more

Than a piano teacher’s should.

The sounds composed

In that dead room

on that dead floor

Is sometimes more

Than notes and chords

As cotton falls to dark floorboards

And silent screams

Don’t pass the door

Those ears hear more

Than a piano teacher’s should.

No, I'm staring at your weak-ass word play.

High five to the Advertising Standards Authority for Ireland which has just ordered Largo Foods to withdraw its advertising campaign for Hunky Dorys crisps after complaints from the public that the images were sexist and degrading.

The advertisements which were shown nationwide on billboards and in newspapers featured cleavage bearing "hot chicks" in rugby poses with the caption "Are you staring at my crisps?".

But wait a second, these ladies aren't even eating any crisps! Where is the logic in this?! Ohhhhh I get it, crisps sounds a little bit like tits! "Are you staring at my tits?" That's better. Mystery solved.

The ads also have a footer indicating they are "sponsors of Irish Rugby" which the Irish Rugby Football Union were none too pleased about as it implied they were major donors when actually they only sponsor some small club like Navan who, let's face it, are not even a real team. I guess the IRFU were pissed that a big brand was trying to cash in, and also stated that Irish Rugby has a family focus and they do not wish to be associated with the images.

Personally, my biggest problem with the campaign is that is simply highlights how much women are isolated from sports in Ireland. Rugby has gotten huge here over the last few years, and we've been kicking ass at it. But I've yet to see a game with female teams on television. So it just seems like a joke to me that this campaign features gorgeous women wearing what don't look like legit rugby uniforms to me.. While I'm not sure I agree with the idea that the images "degrade women" [ images don't degrade women, people do], I do think they undermine female athletes by promoting the idea that women only belong in contact sports when they're beautiful and showing off their bodies, and even then they are still just a punchline.

On top of that, I dislike the billboards for other reasons. It's lazy. It's old. It's not even a good pun.

Pretty pleased about the simple fact that people complained, and were taken seriously. Hopefully one day, women's sports will be taken seriously here too.