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Thursday 10 February 2011

V DAY


As most of you know – aside from those digging a large hole for themselves to hide in to avoid such things - Valentines Day is coming up…Did I hear a collective groan?

Ah yes, the holiday of love and romance…or commercialism and tripe. Depends which way you look at it of course. Never has their been a more ironic (or shall we say forced) holiday. Here’s the thing, you ask most men about Valentines Day and they get that look…that deer in the headlights, pressure filled sick look that says, ‘oh dear god, again? I just managed to get thru Christmas and I totally screwed that up by getting her a vacuum instead of that bracelet she wanted!’ And then there are the women – I’m talking the majority here, there are always exceptions – who look forward to the day with heated anticipation for that concentrated dose of romance. And hence, the two genders meet in the middle – sometimes begrudgingly - and let the fun begin. 

Me, I’m with the skeptics on this one (something tells me you’re not surprised), I’ve always found the holiday to be a whole load of unnecessary pressure and mass imposed harmony. Have you ever been on a romantic holiday and have been looking forward to it for ages, and then fight the entire sodding time? It’s called pressure folks. That’s her in a red dress flaunting her perfect figure all over the place. How many arguments do you think kick off as soon as Valentines Day hits, purely because of the heavy expectation? She wants a candlelit dinner awash in chocolate covered strawberries and a card that lays out his feelings one by one in an effusive fashion, and he just wants to get out of the evening alive without stepping in any minefields.

It’s also the blatant commercialism that makes me want to run screaming back to the land when love was left the heck alone – the cards, chocolates, heart shaped everything (Even cheese. Heart shaped cheese! Almost makes me lactose intolerant), the restaurants flaunting their ‘romantic’ deals. All designed to make you and your partner feel ‘in love,’ and if you don’t, well apparently you’ve failed in the eyes of St. Valentine. Who was this b*stard anyway?

Then there are those that have to sit ringside and watch this whole spectacle with no 'valentine' or companion in sight (although some one would say that they are getting off easy). The ones that have to walk by the windows for over a month (actually two, as they now start promoting the Loooove day two months in advance) and get inundated with phrases like ‘You’re the one, how I love thee, you complete me, you had me at hello Valentine!!’ I’m thinking that is enough to send the desperate single folk off a high ledge.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love romance – yes you heard me, I love it. After all, I am a woman with red blood in my veins; I am not totally jaded. But I like romance to come spontaneously any day of the year – spontaneity on the receiving end of course; honey, you go ahead and plan your little heart out! – and not because a day dictates it and says that is the day we must express as much love as possible. There is something beautifully organic about romance that cannot and should not be messed with – so Hallmark, be warned. Us true romantics out there don’t need your cards and heart shaped Goudas. 

Tuesday 8 February 2011

DEAR PHONE, I HAVE SINNED


There is a new app that has been ‘blessed’ by the Catholic Church and is of course available on itunes for a buck ninety-nine. If that sentence alone does not say it all, I don’t know what does. Apparently this app - described as 'the perfect guide for every penitent' - leads good abiding Catholics through the confessional process and and helps them keep track of their sins. I thought that was what notebook was for? "Stole a pen, sh*t, have to write that down...just coveted my neighbor’s wife, rats damn, hold on, I just have to log that into my iphone!" [I am pretty sure that good Catholics don't swear as much as I do].

I thought by now most Catholics knew how the confessional process worked, or at least I thought they did. Perhaps they are after the new generation of potential sinners that aren't so sure – actually, as we are all human, let’s call them surefire sinners, as most people commit four sins by lunch. You know the youth that fire up their iphones to play a little Westbang, listen to a new Bruno Mars tune, and then oh yeah, jot down that they just stole a motorbike on the corner of 5th and Main. I wonder what the app’s response is to that one? “Say three hundred Our Father’s and get down to your local church. And make it snappy, you raging derelict!”

This app, as explained by the church, is supposed to help people understand their actions (I could be out on a limb here, but I fear it may take more than an app to do this). Cause as we all know, people are obedient and civilized and they really want to do good, especially if their apps are reminding them to. Sorry, my cynical bones are twitching in a frenzy.

I suppose on the positive side it is at least trying to bring religion into the digital age and aims to influence the youth that sit day and night on their electronic devices. I can just see Moms all over the world stealing their child’s phone to install this app on there. ‘Yes, fine, you can Facetime with Mary, but then gosh darn it, you better say a couple!’

I just can’t wait to see this on the go confessional happen – just think of all the sinners out there running to a meeting, confessing their impure thoughts as they weave in and out of traffic. I figure if I ride the tube long enough I am bound to see someone crying into their iphone that they oggled their secretary, muttering prayers under their breath; although if I ever saw that on the train I’d switch carriages and fast. Shows you the day and age we’re living in. 

Monday 7 February 2011

CHOREPLAY


A recent study found that a clean house is an aphrodisiac especially when the male counterpart in the relationship has cleaned the home. Yes men, listen up, cause according to the study, there are benefits for all involved if you throw an apron on and get to cleaning.

The University of Western Ontario [fine, it’s not Harvard, but who cares when the results mean that your woman is happy and you may just get some ‘chica chica bow bow’ (that’s the universal phrase for getting busy. Obviously] found that women were much happier when their husbands pitched in around the house. Um. Duh. I hope they didn't spend a lot on that study, cause I could've told them that one. Another study at the University of Illinois took it a step further - thankfully - and stated that when men pull their weight with the chores and kids, they saw definitive results in the bedroom. They called it ‘choreplay.’ Yes, you heard me, women are that easy. Help us, and we'll help you. In the famous words of Tom Cruise, help me help you!!

Apparently, the key to a woman’s arousal is deep relaxation and lack of anxiety. Are the dishes put away? Check. Kids in bed with all their limbs in tact? Check. Everything ready for school tomorrow? Check...Fabulous, now we can get busy. Before that, trust me, women are running down the mile long checklist in their heads making sure everyone’s lives are going to run smoothly the next day.

I can categorically say that this is one of the biggest differences between men and women. A man could be sitting on top of a pile of dirty clothes, eating a bowl of spaghetti out of a dirty dish, staring through a dirty window out at his dirty car, and I still think he could manage to get excited. But women, as many of you men know, we’re all about order. And when things are in order, we’re happy, until then, not so much. And what’s even better than order? Ah the mighty four letter word...no not that one! H-E-L-P. Yes I shall say it louder for the cheap seats, HELP from our husbands/partners etc who are usually oblivious to the fact that the dishwasher has been sitting there waiting to be unloaded for four days (oh please, like any woman would be able to leave it for four days).

So this Valentines Day save the chocolates that just make us fat, forget the flowers that simply die, and throw on the rubber gloves and get to cleaning the oven. Trust me, when that appliance is sparkling clean, your woman will get that look in her eye, and you’ll know you’ve done well. In fact, it may be your best Valentines Day ever.
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