Daisy from Lowestoft - Insightful political views, and perky breasts.

Is it sexist to suggest that all women are hysterical shoe-aholics, or that if you cut through any feminine bone it would read ‘weight issues’ all the way through, like a stick of rock? I only ask because apparently it’s totally ok to state that every man is rubbish at remembering any anniversary, and that we’re all a bit slow. These very sentiments were unveiled without the merest suggestion of humour, by a real life lady person, as if it was a known fact and so safe to broadcast. She also said that it was ok that men forgot stuff because they’re rubbish, so woman were expecting it. If you set the bar that low that’s where we shall aim for, so maybe expect a little better of your dangly genitalled, fellow people. If I’m honest I’d have to say that generalisations, stereotypes and characterisations are not things that I have a particular issue with. They can be a lot of fun or incredibly hurtful, both of which have a time and place. However, should you offer such an opinion one minute, only to appear disgusted by a similar lumping together of woman kind the next, you will find me most displeased.

It is not alright to be surprised when you hear that I am not interested in football, and then tut when I suggest that you are an excellent cook who is completely unable to reverse park. It displays a glaring character flaw to need to change undergarments after gazing upon a stylish, black and white photo shoot of David Beckham, when only that very morning you berated male acquaintances for lusting over the pertness of Daisy From Lowestoft in The Sun. Particularly when Daisy had such interesting things to say about the current state of affairs in Libya. In case you hadn’t noticed: you’re being a hypocrite.

I am wary of getting tangled up in the subject of equality, but sod it, in for a penny and all that. Firstly, in my opinion it is impossible for things which are not the same to be equal. They can appear so, but they are not. One thing will always be able to do somethings better, and so will the other. This applies to individual people as much as it does to groups. You might be able to lift that fridge, but I can remember the words to every Blur song up to the album ’13’, so who’s the real man here. With groups it becomes more difficult because they are made up of individual people, but still each group displays it’s own key strengths and weaknesses. Same with gender, whether you like it or not. I am never going to give birth, breast feed my child or be able to experience the strength of bond to my offspring as that felt by a mother, and you are always going to struggle to piss higher than me against a wall. That’s nature. It’s just as important to remember what separates us as it is to fight to be recognised for what doesn’t.

Obviously there are some things that should be equal among all of us. Pay. Living conditions. Access to at least basic broadband. Food. There are others but you get the idea. This notion that somehow we are all the same is fundamentally incorrect, make a list and the similarities are dwarfed by the humongous differences. Put a picture of a naked man by a picture of a naked woman and you have got the worlds easiest Spot the Difference, you’d run out of ink circling them all. And then get distracted by the nakedness and fold the paper in half so the man was on the woman, and then start make smooching noises. Yes you would.

I think I mostly blame adverts. They told us women stayed at home and Shake-n-Vac’d as they waited for their cakes to rise, while their husbands went off to work. Then they changed direction and decided that men were pretty thick, directionless, boob warmers in waiting, who say stupid things whilst drinking beer, while women became powerful, confident go-getters, in charge of their destiny and their man. Really, all the newer ads are saying is that because you want to vanquish your male oppressors so badly, you’ll probably buy any old shit if we say men suck, and that men can be sold everything from cars to peanuts through the cunning implementation of breasts. It’s the heady mix of power and sex but before they got mixed. The promise of power is alluring to anyone, but particularly those who feel hard done by, and sex is nice too. Basically, in trying to make you want to buy their deodorant or perfume, they have made you want to think you are the advert. Power and mystery for the lady, and a buxom young wench for sir. There’s almost certainly more truth to that then there should be and perhaps explains the increasing social acceptance of Lap dancing clubs, though personally I don’t understand the appeal in paying to be sexually stimulated, unfulfilled and disappointed in yourself. You can achieve that by buying a new 50 inch, Sony Bravia Hologram television to watch Hollyoaks.

Being misogynistic is a bad thing, I feel I should point that out now, just incase I am being misunderstood. I am no male, chauvinist pig. Male, yes. Pig, sometimes, yes. But I am under no illusion that in terms of gender I got lucky. Apart from the childbirth – you can keep that. No, I think it’s much more sensible to concentrate on the differences between us at an individual level and use that understanding to see the hilarity in tarring all with one brush. Especially if it’s literally a tarred brush. Why is it considered worse to hit a woman than a man? That seems wrong. If asked, I would say that the likelihood of me striking him is as high as if it were her. It’s pretty bloody low however you look at it, because I’m a coward, but hopefully you understand what I’m saying. Why does the gender come into how alright it’s considered to hit someone?

So, yes, we’re different. Doesn’t matter. Whatever. In fact fine, we’re all the same. Not important. Of no consequence. Either way, you can’t happily pigeon hole them over there and be outraged when them over there do the same to you. You can’t expect us to watch what we say while you verbally rip us to pieces. That’s the sort of thing a massive prick might do and you wouldn’t want to be mistaken for one of those, would you?

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