Why I Quit Writing For College Times

Today I have bad news for everyone. Alright, I have bad news for me, and the people who read my lesbian sex column on College Times. The bad news is it’s finished. I quit today. I really, REALLY did not want to, but the situation there became impossible. I had to make a choice between writing something I loved and being a person I liked, and I guess I just can’t write about sex if I’m not feeling respected, so I quit.


Now, I understand that to a lot of people, that’s no big deal, but I’ve never had to quit a job for moral reasons before, so I wanted to explain myself. Explain what is actually happening behind the scenes at that place, in case any rumour starts going around that I was kicked out, or that I threw a hissy fit and stormed out of the metaphorical building. Here is the full story, both sides represented, so that you can all see how much I did not want to get to this place. I’m sorry if there are fewer jokes, but on the plus side, I predict a 100% increase in posts about specific areas of lesbian sex in the near future, unless someone else wants them. Anyway, here’s how it went down:


As I said, I was writing for a different website until today, thus explaining why I never update this place. How exciting! A brand new website, aimed at students, that my friend Clare Cullen [of Shite Irish Girls Say, look her up] asked me if I would be interested in writing for. Naturally the answer was YES, I am always a fan of a new place to do my favourite thing, AND they said I could write a sex column, AND there was a good chance that the exposure would lead to paid work [I love this blog, you guys, but also like ninety percent of my posts on it are about how badly I need a job]. So far, so excellent.


The first post I submitted was about strap-ons, and my editor said it was pretty cool, and I was stoked. Dudes, I did not know how badly I wanted to write a sex column until I had one, turns out I wanted one A Lot. And also, my sister Ais had a column too! Perfect Days.


Ais wrote one of her first articles about pubic hair. It was a hilarious article about the various haircuts girls get on their ladyparts in order to be attractive [SIDE NOTE: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rcoreV10hI8 ].


That was when the first warning sign arrived. Ais’ [and also my] editor, Jack O’Connor, said that he didn’t think the article belonged in the sex section. He said he wanted to keep the section to only be about the physical act of boning. Ais told me that, and we made unimpressed faces at each other for a while.


Also around this time, Ais decided to take a look around the ‘demo site’ that had been set up, as a kind of tester site to see how CT would look and act when it went live. She was looking in the sex section, because obviously, and she noticed that a lot of articles in it weren’t exactly female friendly [even though they were written by women]. She pointed this out to the Greta Dunne, who is the editor of all of CT, and who is doing an incredibly hard job and you have to respect her for that. That’s not my beef.


Greta took Ais’ advice about editing the columns on board, and so Ais and I decided to let sleeping dogs lie, when it came to how Jack ran his section. Though we agreed it was incredibly stupid and made all the articles kind of boring and like listening to a load of drunken teenagers pretending they were sexually active, we said ‘you know what? I don’t mind being the only good thing about a bad section’, and left it at that.


A little while later [just before the site went live], the editor of the Opinions section, Joshua Doyle, and Jack were commenting under a post in the CT contributors Facebook group [Note: Not the Sex group], and they were incredibly sexist. I’d have a screengrab for you, but I was removed from both the CT group and the Sex Contributors group immediately when I quit this morning [I guess if I was smarter I’d have saved the quitting moment until AFTER I’d had a chance to grab a few screenshots, but also, if I was smarter, I’d have quit a month ago]. They started talking about lesbianism, and Jack actually linked to a lesbian porn clip, in a place where everyone in the group could see it, in a conversation that was not supposed to be sexual at all. That, for Ais, was the last straw.


Both Jack and Josh had been sexist before, not just in comments on the group, but on their own Facebook profiles. Nothing you could call them out on, but enough to let you know that maybe these guys were going to be a feminist’s nightmare. So she said- quite rightly- Fuck That Noise.


She sent Jack and Greta an email, and asked for it to be forwarded to Josh so he could see how mad she was, and apologise. Jack responded with an apology, admitting his explanation was weak [banter got out of hand. You know how sometimes you have no control over how much lesbian porn you link to because you are talking to a man? That happened to him]. His email also contained the phrase


‘I can assure you that I am far from sexist and would in fact consider myself a feminist, considering that feminism is the belief that men and women are equal.”


Let’s take that comment, shall we? Let’s just hold on to that for a second, while we look at this example of writing on College Times, which was submitted by someone who calls Jack his editor:


Man, I sure hope I'm not a DUF, I'd hate for this guy to hit on me even to confuse my hotter mates

An example of men and women being treated equally.


That article is published in the Health section, by the way. Yep. I feel healthy after reading that.


You will note an apology arrived from Jack, and also, one from Greta. Greta in fact was very apologetic, and assured Ais that- while she didn’t agree that this behaviour was grounds to remove them as editors [Side Note: degrading your contributors is definitely grounds for removing your editors]- she felt bad about what happened, and wished Ais the best. Ais told Jack she hoped his behaviour would change [though she doubted it actually would], wished Greta the best and got the next train out of there.


Joshua, however, did not apologise. Not once. He didn’t even acknowledge that this had happened.


Now, when Ais stormed out, I made my first mistake. What I should have done was have her back, because I agreed with her. I should have walked out with her. Instead, what happened was that while Ais was quitting in Dublin, I was in Offaly being offered the position of sub- editor of the sex section. At the same time. This playing me against my sister thing was bullshit, but I was too excited to see it right then. A few days later, after me and Ais realised what had happened, and I had gotten my head out of my ass, I sent Jack and Greta this email:


See how nice I am when I think someone is being a dilhole?

Note how I require assurance that this will never happen again


Jack talked me around, said a public apology would bring everyone down, and gave me the assurances I asked for. He gave me three articles to edit, and then no more, ever again.


Joshua did not apologise. That’s two, if you’re counting.


Around this time, in fact the same day as he gave me the articles to edit, Jack asked me to write something about the upcoming March for Marriage. He said UCD had sent on a press release, and it had to be in quick. I had a deadline of about an hour, and I wrote March With Us, to date the most popular post on College Times, according to the ‘most shared’ bar. I still consider it pretty rad to be the author of a thing that took off like that. Pretty rad being College Times, too, to be fair, they got a lot of hits out of it. That’s the thing about writing for a website like CT, it’s mutually beneficial, and that’s great. That’s not my beef.


The next article I submitted to Jack [bearing in mind, I had 9 ready to go before the site even went live] was on the subject of consent. The gist of the story is that I had seen some of the other female contributors in the sex section phrase their sex lives as things they were doing so boys would still like them. My article was about how you can say no to things you don’t want to do, and if whoever you are boning is not OK with that, you can do better.


Jack didn’t like it.


He said it didn’t really fit in the section, even though it was about sex. He said he wanted the section to be positive, to be only about the physical act, not about any of the other stuff [like consent?]. I said I thought that was stupid, and that the article ideas he was giving to people were boring [universally, when someone asked for a topic, he said ‘review a position!’ Now, a lot of the contributors in his section are around 19- 20. I would imagine after the fourth ‘review a position!’ request, they were going to have to Do A Google. Which is not their fault, at all, and if you are reading this girls, Jack is not being fair to you with that behaviour]. Eventually, he conceded to put it up, but asked for more articles like my first nine in the future [reminder that only 2 of those articles are on the site. So, not TOO much like them, I assume].


So at this point, to put you in my mindset, I was pretty sure I disliked Jack as a person. I thought he disrespected women, wanted to run a really boring sex section, and was a bad writer [which does not automatically mean he is a bad guy, but it does when he publishes so many of his own articles]. I told my friends that I wished I could take over his job, not out of any desire for the position [more free work is not a thing I am desperate for], but so I could make the section a thing that people would want to read, and maybe learn from.


Also, around this time, Ais told me that College Times is run by the same people who run Midnight Promotions. You know, these guys:





So I was getting a clearer picture as to what was actually going on here. However, I still really liked Greta, I thought she was doing a really tough job, and I respected her. In all our dealings, she was nothing but nice, and I cut her slack for not removing Josh and Jack because they are mates, and sometimes people are stupid about their mates.


Then Jack asked me to write a response to the horrible homophobic article published in The University Times last week, since I did such a good job on March With Us. Naturally, I loved the idea of being the go-to LGBT columnist, that is essentially My Dream Job. So I wrote it, sent it in, and the next day it went up.


Now I’m not going to lie to you, I had a hard time finding what I wanted to say in that article. The rough version I sent off to Jack was not my best work, but it was pretty good, and more importantly pretty fast. The article that went up was BUTCHERED. No paragraphs, anywhere. I was so embarrassed; I didn’t even link to it on my own Facebook page. And I commented wherever I saw it that I was a better writer than this article let on. I mean, HOW embarrassing.


Me and Ais were both at home at the time, and we were laughing at how obvious it was when the terrible editor got bored [for the record, Jack always did a phenomenal job on my pieces, no complaints at all. I’m giving him credit where he deserves it, he was a good motivator and a good editor, and he had some shockingly all over the place articles to contend with. Fair play, like, I do not envy him that], when Ais decided to see how bad Joshua was at writing. You know, for comedy.


So she looked through the site, and found an article of his called Invasion, about the new Abercrombie store in Dublin. We clicked on it, and yes, he is a terrible writer, and that was pretty funny. But what was not funny was this paragraph, right here:

Gay here can be read as a negative description, OR as being the same as a sex crime

Yep. You read that correctly. That’s what he meant.



Now, let’s recap: Josh has been a Known Sexist for a long time now. He has been responsible for at least one contributor taking their work and walking out already. So he’s a risk, and everyone knows it. I have been personally assured that he is being watched. And yet, here we are. This happened.


To make matters worse, I found out later that Joshua submitted this article in January. This article has been live on the site since well before there even WAS a site. While Ais was complaining about him, this was up. While I was complaining about him, this was up. While I was asked TWICE to submit articles on how rad the LGBT community is, including one about how awful homophobia in the media is, this was up.


It didn’t take us long to find it. It wasn’t buried anywhere. It was right there, in plain sight, too near my name for my liking.


Naturally, I flipped the fuck out. This is what I emailed to Joshua, Jack, and Greta [It was too big for a screengrab, sorry]:



‘Hey guys,

So I was looking through College Times articles today, after you put up the link to my latest one, and I came across this piece
I am absolutely disgusted that you would allow an article which not only implies, it actually says that being gay is the same as being a sex offender. That is unacceptable, and I am absolutely disgusted with all the people involved in either writing, editing or allowing such a thing to be published.
Since I started writing for you guys, I have been asked on two occasions to write an article in defense of the LGBTQ community. I thought that that was the kind of organisation this was, one that aimed to entertain but also to educate. In my last article, I made specific reference to how it was hugely offensive for a publication to write something just to get the attention of the LGBTQ community. Well Greta, that works both ways, and I am absolutely disgusted with this ‘token equality’ you are trying to portray. It makes you look bad, but it also makes me look bad. You have made me look like a gay Uncle Tom, and you never even let on. That is unacceptable.
The hypocrisy you have shown is insulting not only to all LGBTQ people, it is also personally insulting. I don’t understand how you guys can continue to put up my work, even compliment it, while knowing that this is also happening on your site. I feel taken advantage of, I feel used, but mostly I feel angry.
Consider this my final word on the subject. I expect no more of my articles to be put up on the site, naturally. I don’t want you to use me as a tool for your success anymore, I really cannot stress how angry I am right now.
I will no longer be promoting your site, and in fact unless some major apologies are given both to me and to every other member of the LGBTQ community [in an article published on your site], and the author of the piece is taken off your staff, I will be actively telling as many people as I can to never read it, as no matter how ‘progressive’ you like to pretend you are being, this ‘Invasions’ article has shown it’s just pandering.
PS: This letter will be published on my blog [averages 1000 views per post], unless I feel action has been taken to stop this from ever happening again. ‘
[Yes, I used this blog as a threat. Yes, I am carrying that threat out right now. No, I have no regrets.]

The article was taken down immediately.

After that, I emailed my good friend James Mitchell [YouTube sensation] – and also a College Times Contributor- because we are good Activist buddies, and I knew he would be upset about this too. I was right, and he also flipped out. He didn’t know about the sexism, and he flipped out over that too.



I was so mad, and he was so mad, and Greta wanted us to stay so badly, she organised a coffee meeting the very next day. At first, I was against it, but then I thought ‘Sinead, don’t be a dickhead all your life. You love this column, and if you leave, then nothing will change’. So I agreed.

While we were sorting this out, Josh emailed James an apology. Note this: James had never contacted Josh to ask for one, or in fact even to yell at him, he was dealing directly with Greta. I had emailed Josh, see above. He did not apologise to me. That’s three.

Before we met Greta for coffee, I laid out exactly what would be required for me to stay with CT, because I need to be able to look myself in the eye. These things were:

1: Josh had to go. The homophobia combined with his sexism made him someone I could never work with again, never mind under. James agreed.

2: An apology and explanation in the CT group on Facebook, so that nobody could say me and James bullied him out or whatever. Also, an apology on the site itself, because I didn’t want people thinking I was OK with working somewhere that would print that. James agreed to the group, but wasn’t too pushy on the website [for the record, there are no hard feelings between us. James has not been fighting with CT for as long as I have, so anyone who compares our two situations is being facetious. I think James is rad as hell, and I probably always will.]

3: A Code of Practise would have to be drawn up, in order to ensure that this would never, EVER happen again. James agreed.


At this point, I had exactly zero trust in anybody at College Times to fix anything. I was mad as hell going into that meeting, and so was James. At first, Greta -and her partner Jamie, who we only found out about on arrival- tried to talk us down, with arguments about encouraging debate, and how CT was working for us and so we shouldn’t leave. They said that Josh didn’t mean to insinuate what he had said, and this was perhaps an overreaction from us. They also said he felt terrible about it, and Greta said she was wicked busy, she hadn’t bothered checking his old articles at all.

At that point, we made it clear that if anyone else had written the article and it had been published, a quick email- like Ais sent to Greta about the sexism in the original sex articles- would have sorted it out. The problem here was that she had been warned, and was either lying when she said he was under control, or really bad at her job, neither of which are good excuses for publishing something like that. We explained the difference between a comment and a slur, and Greta conceded.


She was really, incredibly nice, and took us very seriously. She told us Josh had already been fired, he was out, and we agreed he could only come back once CT had its Code of Practise in working order. She said he wanted my number to apologise, I refused on principle- I don’t accept apologies from people who only give them as a last resort. He had so many chances to apologise before he was kicked out that he neglected to take, I see no reason to make him feel better now. Joshua Doyle is a sexist, and he should feel bad about that.

She agreed to all of our terms, and we went to CT headquarters to start writing a Code of Practise. Josh, surprisingly, was there, and he wanted to meet us, I was not OK with that, James was not OK with that, and so he left. No more Joshua.


I met Jack for the first time, and he wouldn’t even look at me. I’ve never been so obviously disdained before. It was clear our dislike was mutual. The first thing he said was how he hoped that me and James wouldn’t fly off the handle like this again, heavily implying we had totally overreacted. As we explained to him what we had just explained to Greta [with Greta’s support, it should be said], he turned around in his swivel chair, and couldn’t have been less interested in what was happening.

After a while spent chatting about the difference between a debate and an insult, and after I explained what ‘checking your privilege’ was for at least the tenth time, we left Greta to get back to work. Honestly, I was delighted to still be writing for her. The best case scenario had happened. Nobody had walked away, and real changes were going to be made. Most Meeting Ever. By the time I got home, Greta had opened a thread on the CT group about making a Code of Practise, and I was delighted.

The next day, nothing new happened. No apology, no post on the site, no Code of Practise.

The next day, nothing continued to happen. James and I had a conversation about how long we would wait; I said I was willing to give them a week. A week is a long time in internet years, you know.

Then, this morning, I turned on my laptop before work. It’s not something I usually do, but I wanted to watch more Suburgatory [Side Note: Check it out. It’s great]. I clicked into the CT group to see what was new or interesting that day, and to see if there was an apology post. Unfortunately, the only new post I saw was this:


Unrelated: Cian. Cian seems lovely and I hope his birthday was class

Note how he speaks for the team, though he was apparently kicked off it at least three days ago



Now, doesn’t that seem WEIRD to you? What’s even weirder is that James noticed him calling for submissions in the opinions section. Not normal behaviour for a guy who was kicked out three days ago, is it? Note that I quit this morning and immediately lost all posting privileges. I can’t take a screenshot, this guy can wish happy birthday on behalf of everyone else? Something didn’t add up. Either Josh was still working for CT, in which case everything Greta had said was a lie, or… no, that was the only conclusion. There is no other explanation.


For me, that was the last straw. James got on to Greta, who explained that she was sick for the last three days, and Josh was sticking around because they couldn’t find a replacement. Now, those are great excuses, if Greta was the only person in the office capable of typing an apology, and also if there was nobody in the world able to look after Josh’s section, which apparently was short on submissions anyway.


Also, I had been specifically told several times that he was out of the picture. Both on Facebook chat the day before we met, at the actual meeting, and afterwards in the office. He was gone. And yet no, he wasn’t. Joshua Doyle is a rash that CT can’t seem to get rid of, and the constant lying about it is what got rid of me.


I can work for people I don’t like. I can work with people who don’t like me. But let’s get real here- I’m pretty good at this writing shit. It’s the only thing I’m pretty good at, and it’s the only thing I do that I have a little bit of respect for. So when I am bringing a site a lot of hits because of it, I assume I’m going to get a little of that respect back. Not a lot, just enough that, oh, I don’t know, I’m not constantly being lied to and placated like a child. You know, the level of respect any decent human being shows any other one. And coincidentally, not the level of respect I was getting from College Times.


So that’s it. That’s why I quit. You guys can decide if I overreacted or not, I personally don’t think I did. I have enough fights to be getting on with, for things like the right to get married, or be whatever gender I wanna be, to start another one with a website that is never going to listen to me anyway. Fuck That Noise. I’m genuinely gutted that this thing that I loved is gone, but on the plus side, I saw a mirror a minute ago and was able to look myself in the eye, so I guess that’s a positive.


Also, if you guys have any idea what I should do with like 20 sex columns, I am all ears. I’m going to publish them here if nowhere else wants them, but I hope somewhere does. Seems like a total waste, otherwise.




TL; DR: Some people were sexist, homophobic assholes and nothing was ever gonna change so I dicked off. NO REGRETS.


Stay Tuned for a hilarious article about sexting Jack told me to write because it’s a thing he probably thinks people still do, lol forever.


EDIT: I have taken on board the advice in the comments, and cleaned up the grammar and spelling a bit. Sorry about that.

Youth Defense: Challenge Accepted

You guys, we have a Serious Problem going on right now. It’s a pretty embarrassing one too. Like, not just for me, but I think for pretty much everybody who does not require watering on a regular basis.

That problem is called Youth Defense. For a Pro- Life organisation, it sure does sound a lot like children’s toothpaste, doesn’t it? But unlike children’s toothpaste, Youth Defense will not make your mouth taste like strawberries [and yet somehow protect us from cavities]. Instead they mostly make your mouth taste like bile, and bile is hard on teeth. I guess they only care about mitosis, leaving the teeth of the children of Ireland to rot and eventually dribble out of their mouths, kind of like the path Logic and Reason follow when they find themselves inside a member of Youth Defense [I jest- nothing will ever be inside a member of Youth Defense].

ANYWAY- you may have noticed their billboards around the place, proclaiming things like ‘ABORTION TEARS HER LIFE APART- THERE’S ALWAYS A BETTER ANSWER’, which I cannot argue with, depending on the question you are asking. Like, if you are asking ‘Where do you keep the spoons?’, Abortion is probably a bad answer. Similarly, if the question is ‘What is your name?’, the answer is more than likely not abortion [unless your parents are cruel and hilarious]. But always? Like, I think if the question is ‘Oh man, I don’t really think having a baby would be a solid life choice, what will I do?’, then maybe abortion is a contender. It’s probably gonna make it to the shortlist, is what I’m saying.

The thing that bothers me about Youth Defense isn’t that they think abortion is wrong- I actually have zero interest in what anybody else thinks about abortion, either way. You wanna have an abortion, go ahead, I literally do not care. My problem is that they are telling blatant lies in order to get people to agree with them. Kind of like your primary school teacher telling you to stop making faces or the wind will change and you’ll be gross looking forever. Immediately Imma call you on that, because the wind also changes when I am cheerful and yet I have Bitchface a lot of the time. You could have just said ‘stop it’, you know? This scare- mongering is super unfair on people who have had abortions. Imagine you had one like five years ago, and you are perfectly happy right now, then you see this sign that tells you your life has been torn apart and you made a bad call? That’s not sound at all. I don’t think that anybody should have an opinion about abortion, to be honest, unless it’s a personal one, because it’s a fucking personal issue, isn’t it? Something you gotta really think about, either way, before committing, and something that a motherfucking billboard with a picture of someone looking morose on it is not going to make any easier for you to decide about.

Bearing this in mind, I submit to you my counter argument to Youth Defense, and in fact all organisations that are telling women what they should or should not be growing in their inside parts. I have thought it out, spent several hours today mulling over the pros and cons of what I was saying, and now, I share it with you, in the hope that it gives you something to think about. My argument is this:



Do you know how many things are growing in your butt right now?


It’s A Lot.

Imma just concentrate on one, for the purposes of this discussion [and please, bear in mind that my degree is in Classical Civilisation, so my science is not entirely perfect, but my sources are real, so I guess I am hoping that by employing honesty and being able to spell the word Science I am already ahead of Youth Defense].
Ladies and Gentlemen, meet Candida albicans:

Pretty impressive, isn’t it? That thing, which is a type of fungi, is in the colon of something like 80% of people right this second, just chilling the fuck out. This is also the thing that causes yeast infections, so it’s not even butt specific. Dude gets AROUND. Mostly, he just hangs out as a single cell organism in your intestinal tract, but dude can also morph into something that becomes Serious Business, like a system wide yeast infection that could fuck everything up forever, in the way that results in a bad case of death for whoever he’s growing in.

Now, here we have a human zygote:



Now, nobody is debating that fact that this thing is also pretty fucking cool. If you make one of these and want to have a baby nine months later, you are pretty much golden. But you have to admit, it’s not quite as rad as that yeast infection up there, is it?

Lets break it down:

Can a Human Zygote grow in your butt? NO

Can a Candida albicans thing grow in your lady parts? YES

That’s 1-0

Can a Human Zygote take over your whole body eventually by fucking growing there? NO

Can Candida albicans? YES

2-0, in favour of butt yeast.

Can you have thousands of Human Zygote’s inside you at any one time? NO

Candida albicans? YES

Need I go on?


To get rig of a Human Zygote, you can either take a morning after pill, or, if you’ve let it grow a bit by accident, you can have an abortion, which is invasive and hard and nobody really sets out aiming to get one, but you can do it and it’s gone, problem solved.

To get rid of Candida albicans you can poop it out, or if it’s gotten out of hand, take some medicine, problem also solved.


And so, here is my point: Youth Defense, I am challenging you to put your money where your mouth is. And I don’t mean in another billboard campaign, I mean seriously. Step up to the plate and show the world that you are willing to practice what you preach, that you truly believe a single cell organism is the same as a Live Thing, and deserves the same considerations as one.

Essentially, if you guys are serious about the right single cell organisms have to thrive in this crazy, messed up world we live in, then I must insist that you give up pooping forever, or nobody will take you seriously. Grow your butt yeast until it takes you over, or forever be a hypocrite.

Your choice, dickheads. 

HAIR We Go Again

PUNS. I will never get over them.


This week, everyone is talking about body hair. Well, probably not everyone. I’m pretty sure my grandmother isn’t. But I bet if she knew what And Internet looked like she would be, because this place has just exploded with articles about that shit. I dunno why it is suddenly topical, I guess because it’s warmer and thus approaching that special time of year when you have to commit to a Summer Look, and for bazillions of girls everywhere that means pastel colours and hairless everywheres.

So I thought ‘Hey, I have a blog thing, maybe people wanna know how I feel about hair on ladies’. And then I thought ‘Of course they don’t, people only read your blog because they are searching for Amanda Brunker tit shots, it’s right there in your search terms. But it’s your blog, Fuck That Shit, do it anyway. It’s not like you get paid.’

And then I realised that if I was paid for writing this blog I would be the most deadbeat employee ever and y’all would have fired me by now.

Sorry mom, sorry god.


ANYWAY- we were talking about hairy bitches. Now, full disclosure, I do shave my legs and underarms, BUT I have a good reason for that, promise.

The reason is that I do not grow body hair very well. I grow body hair like teenage boys grow moustaches, patchily, over the course of several months, and the end result is still wicked unimpressive. I would legitimately love to wake up some day and have finally left puberty, with body hair all over the place that I could pointedly not shave and be proud of in the streets wearing shorts, that is The Dream. But alas, the reality is that if I don’t shave my legs, all that would happen would be that, after about a year, strangers would think I had some kind of mange or something. It is a genuine source of sadness in my life, almost as bad as my inability to grow even an unimpressive moustache.

But I love body hair on other ladies! for one thing, if you are a hairy lady, and are showing it off in public, guuuurl, Imma be checking you out all day long. You got confidence coming out the ass. If I see a lady in the street with a hairy armpit, I know she is not giving a single fuck. And to me, that pretty much means I wanna bone her. She knows what’s up [and yes I am talking about my metaphorical erection here].

BUT I know that avoiding sex with me is not the only reason ladies shave themselves. That’s probably only half the story. The other half is my girlfriend. She is totally into shaving, even though she knows I am all for her to be Wild and Free and Without Razor Burn. She’s like ‘That’s great for you and all, but this is how I like my body so this is how Imma keep it, Sound? Sound’ [I am totally paraphrasing A Lot here]. And you know what, that’s hella rad too, because she’s presenting [LOL] herself the way she wants to, and is not giving a single fuck about what I think. And that makes me wanna bone her, because confident ladies, amiright? I’m totally right.


Thus, here is the gist of All My Feels on the subject of body hair: If you are shaving your legs, and are thinking ‘Geez, this is awkward, and arduous, and fuck I just sliced my knee off AGAIN how embarrassing’, then don’t do it. It’s really stupid to do something you don’t wanna do just because everyone else is. People out there who are completely hairless because Sexy TV Ladies are completely hairless should try remember that Sexy TV Ladies are only hairless because Porn Ladies are hairless, and Porn Ladies are only hairless so you can properly see their ladyparts on camera, and basing any of your lifestyle on what a porn director wants to see is probably a really terrible call in life. BUT people who are completely hairless because it makes them feel good and they like it and they think it’s properly sexy should go ahead and do whatever the fuck they want.

I do reckon everyone should try being hairy at least once. There was a lady on TV this week who was all ‘check it, I didn’t know how it felt to have my own hair until I was 26’, and that’s a bit fucked, isn’t it? Like, I dunno, if you had a garden you wouldn’t get rid of the lawn unless you’d seen what it looked like first, would you? That’d just be stupid. This analogy is wicked literal.

Ultimately, it’s all about how sexy you feel. The truth is, if you are seconds from boning someone, they are not gonna change their mind because you have hair. Nobody has ever done that in the history of ever, and if they do, who the fuck wants to bone somebody who gets all the way to the naked part and then flakes over something stupid like landscaping? Nobody, that’s who. That guy was definitely not a catch.

Basically, it’s all about what makes you feel rad, as a dude or a girl or a whatever the hell you want. Hair is rad, and so is none, we are living in a diverse world, you guys. Be the raddest you you can be, and your bodyfuzz will never be an  issue, swears.

Plus, there’s  a ninety percent chance Imma wanna bone you anyway



In Which The Author Pretends That It Hasn’t Been Five Months Since The Last Post

My bad, internet. In my defense, nobody is handing out quality pamphlets nowadays. Fucking recession. Also, very little amusing happened except a man in London told me Bronze was The Fashion, in an incredibly serious tone of voice, but it’s hard to get a paragraph out of that [except the one I just wrote- is that irony? I forget what irony really is sometimes, except I know it isn’t anything  in the song Ironic because pop culture told me so. Cheers pop culture! So informative!]. Anyway, I have not been entirely unproductive, I have been doing Important Research and have Findings to present. Or I guess A Finding to present, I dunno, I’m not in college anymore, don’t hold me to your standards.


I have spent the last few hours [years] looking at vintage pictures of Queer people on tumblr, and I have noticed a trend. Well probably several trends. For one thing, my previous assertion that all lesbians look good in a suit has been proven correct, bitches be fierce. Also, I have discovered that ‘dykes in vests’ were happening like a hundred years ago, and look pretty much identical to dykes in vest now, except with less interesting hair. Fructose has a lot to answer for, you guys, nobody in the past looked artfully windswept, or like maybe they had just rolled out of bed and into sex or anything. If there is one thing the lesbian community as a whole have really abandoned in the last 100 years, it is combs.

But the trend I am talking about is more fun than weave maintenance. It’s so much fun it’s even about porn. Or well, erotica. What is the difference between pornography and erotica, anyway? I think it’s just sepia. From now on if I am taking rude pictures  of anything Imma just do it in brown  tones and then bitches won’t think I am a massive perve, they will think I am a Class Act. Anyway, the thing I have noticed in all lesbian erotica ever forever is this:

The Lone Breast.

I guess it’s probably in straight erotica too, but who the fuck reads that shit? The Lone Breast is probably the funniest thing in the history of ever. Simply put, The Lone Breast occurs when two ladies are lying or sitting near each other suggestively, and one of them, for no reason, has a tit out. Just like, chilling. Nobody touching it, no obvious reason for it, just one nipple blowing in the wind. And every single time this thing shows up, the two ladies are totally ignoring it. They are like ‘Yeah, there is a nipple right there, what of it? This shit is Victorian’. My favourite thing about this is not the free boobshot I am getting, it’s imagining the photographer making that decision.

‘Gee, guys, I don’t know if having two ladies in underwears lying on the same couch is really screaming lesbian sex to me’

‘I guess, but what do we do? I mean, how do they even have sex, is it like *mimes jamming two scissor together with fingers’

‘Have scissors been invented yet? I don’t really think that’s possible with petticoats anyway. Hey, I know! Why don’t you just get your tits out!’

*Gets tits out*

‘You are a goddamn genius’

‘WAIT WAIT WAIT.. Why not just ONE! Then bitches will know how classy we are’

‘Dude, we are already shooting in sepia, but alright..’

Another cool thing they had in old porn was one lady presenting her arse to the camera, while another studiously ignored her. One of my favourite images [which I am not arsed looking up, but it’s on tumblr for definites] is of a lady shoving her arse over the hips of some other lady who is in her underwear, the arse lady looking incredibly upset and the other one is so bored she is reading a book. I think it might be Lesbian Bed Death. She’s all like’OBJECTIFY ME AS A WOMAN’ and the other one is like ‘Soz babes, Austen’.

I think if ladies still presented like that when they wanted to have sex it would be rad as hell, because sometimes it is hard to know. There are no mixed messages when someone is shoving their naked butt into your face. And you could write your number on it and it would be mega swag. Or demeaning, I guess, depending on your opinion on butt graffitti. I guess if the Cabbage Patch Kids were OK with it, so am I.

One of my favourite things about having a girlfriend now is that I no longer require ladies to shove their naked butts into my face in order to have sex sometimes. That only happens on special occasions. Actually, a lie, with Aimee it happens all the time because girlfriend’s clothes only come in ‘too short’ or ‘entirely see-through’. And people didn’t see us getting together, pfft.

I was actually supposed to write this whole post on ‘Shit My Girlfriend Does That I Do Not Understand’, but that is super hard to do without sounding like a gay Seinfeld. Thus, the accidental thing I have learned from this post is that when I sit down and start thinking about my girlfriend, I end up looking at really old porn.

She’s so lucky to have me.

See You Guys On Winning Streak

When I was a kid, I had really high hopes for myself. I always assumed I would grow up to be something rad, like a doctor, or Tony Hawks, or maybe one of the Power Rangers. I still kinda want to be a Power Ranger, to be honest. I had a dream a while ago that me and Tommy were married, and I won’t lie, it was pretty upsetting for me when I woke up and was a huge lesbian instead.

Anyway, I had big dreams as a kid. All of them were about me being bigger and also class at something. I am super glad that time travel only exists underneath a mountain in Switzerland, because younger me would be wicked disappointed to find out that both of those aims have yet to be achieved. On the plus side, Younger Me would be wicked impressed with how many versions of Pokemon I am kicking ass at right now.

The reason I’ve been thinking about this crap is that the government have decided that I can’t do a postgrad, and that’s fucking terrifying. I mean, since I’ve started this blog I have been on a mission to sort my life out, and in that short space of time I have exploded twice, quit smoking a hundred times, quit drinking four times, not gotten any jobs and otherwise pretty much let the side down. I’ve stayed off caffiene though, at this stage I am actively willing my body to think that was a big enough gesture. The point is I am not great at life plans, or even good, or  actually even passable. There are some things I can do really well [there aren’t], sorting my life out is not one of them. And now I gotta do it from scratch.

Shit is about to get real.

It’s at times like this that I am actually super glad my life is a sitcom. It’s comforting to know that no matter what path I choose for myself at this crossroads in my life, the results will definitely be Zany. Not only does that take a lot of the pressure off, it also gives me the option of going to Clown College. I bet it’s just as much fun as it looks.

Still, I would like those Zany Results to happen somewhere nearer cuddles than I currently am. People give out about Offaly a lot, and there are lots of good reasons to do that, but nobody ever complains about the Cuddle Famine. Maybe everyone is pretending it isn’t happening, but Imma be a whistleblower on this one- there are no cuddles in Offaly, you guys. There are sometimes hugs, and friendly embraces, and there are definitely after sex spoons happening all over the place, but there are absolutely no cuddles up in this area. What is with that? Is cuddling A Gay Thing? I think everything rad is a gay thing now, is that heterophobic of me? LOL JK it can’t be, heterophobia is Not A Real Thing That Is.

But what is real is this Cuddle Famine. I think we should fix it, as a team. I think everyone who is reading this blog should go out of their way to invade a culchie’s personal space in the near future. It’ll be like Cuddle Charity. Or like real charity but that you might get punched for [is it a hate crime to punch a dude in the face for trying to cuddle you? Or is it one of those ‘cries for help’ things, like when Cool Teens throw shit at old people? Someone should start a Youth Group that specifically teaches Cool Teens how to actually cry the word Help, I think we would have a lot less petty crime around the place. Or wait, is that not actually how that works? Metaphors are hard sometimes].

Basically, the only parameters I have set myself for this Whole New Life shit that I have to do now are: 1) Must be nearer cuddles, and 2) Must not be too important. It’s not that I don’t want to have a big important job someday, but while Zany Results and using Kopparberg as a magical cure- all for my life are still present in it, I don’t think I should be running for office or anything. Also, a genuine thing that just happened in the middle of me writing this blog was a good twenty minutes where I imagined what Jersey Shore would be like if one of the people in the house was secretly a Tiger. I think it works best if you imagine it’s Snooki, try it for a few seconds. It’d be all

WILLIAM BLAKE: Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

SNOOKI: Oops my vagina fell out *bites Vinnie in half*

Tell me you would not watch that show.

The point is, I should not be in charge of public policy. Clearly, I should have some kind of position in reality television, but I don’t know if I could handle that much make up. There is a lady who shops where I work who wears as much fake tan as I imagine reality TV stars wear, and I can’t stop staring at her, it’s like a car crash in ridiculous heels. I swear to god, she blurs at the edges, man, I have no idea where she begins or ends. Maybe she stretches out into infinity, in which case SUPER awkward if her Infinity Tan is reading this over my shoulder.

Soz babes.

I dunno, chaps, maybe I am not supposed to have a career. Maybe it is like Clearballs said, and I am destined to be a Cafe Lesbian, but like, I don’t think I have the discipline to be one forever. I mean, my hair is hard work as it is, as I age, I am only going to need more product, and spending all my wages on Surf Hair will probably not be rad when I am old. My weave might never recover from that much Fructose, my head would probably get diabetes, and then where would I be? Sticky and alone, that’s where.

I guess what I really need to do is start investing in Scratch cards, and start dating a statistician. Those two things might not seem super related, but there’s a statistician in America who has earned roughly a bajillion Real Life Dollars on scratchcards, because she has figured out the system. She’s a fucking genius, and since I am clearly not one, I gotta catch me one. As I said, I’m kicking ass at Pokemon, those skills will totally carry over. I just gotta find me a math genius, stand really close to her and hold down B for like thirty seconds, and we will be gay married. It’s foolproof.

KAL should have thought of that plan years ago, they’d have saved a fortune in legal bills.

Skipping Links

Lads, the world is fucked.

We are living in an age where people are inventing mind control devices, invisibility shields and a robot that can wash your hair, but also they are inventing pigs that fit in your handbag. I mean, I’m not immune to the whole smaller = cuter thing, but I am pretty against carrying animals around all day in bags for fashion. What if they poop on your wallet? Do you have to carry two bags, one for your keys and stuff and one for your tiny pig? Because even then, there has got to be a time when it poops in the bag, and you are carrying all your important shit in one hand and actual shit in the other. Bit mental.

Even if you have a pooper scooper, you are just taking the poop out of one bag and putting it in another, and then putting it in a bin, and really there should not be that many stages to pooping, in my opinion. And pigs are exceptionally clean animals, so I guess they would probably agree with me.

And if you used a device to move the poop with your mind, or hide it behind an invisibility shield, and then use the hair washing robot as a bag washing robot, I am not sure that that would make up for the fact that you just let a pig poop in a handbag. Willingly.

Imma stop talking about poop now because I’m making a point- people are fucking stupid, and those people are taking over.  The rest of us are boned.

The signs are everywhere, but the most depressing ones are visible to me when I am at work. For example, you know what bar of chocolate is the one we sell most of where I work? The most delicious bar on the shelf, according to customers? It’s a fucking Twirl. Like, I don’t mean to say a Twirl is inferior or anything, it’s a great tea straw, but come on- if you are living in a world where more people are interested in a Twirl than in, say, a Milka Daim, then you gotta start believing that something is very wrong. Plain is not a preference dudes, I am sure even the Amish prefer Crunchies [SIDE NOTE: Did you guys know the Amish are having serious shenanigans right now? A group of ‘Rogue Amish’ have totally broken away from the main Amish community, and are committing terrorist attacks on the regular Amish people. And by terrorist attacks, I mean they are going to other Amish peoples houses in the middle of the night and fucking shaving them. Having no beard for the Amish is like having no turban for a Sikh, or no white tracksuit for a Sham. Serious business, y’all. I mean, I know this isn’t a funny thing, but I think it’s kind of amusing that some Amish dudes actually think their culture isn’t extreme ENOUGH. I guess everybody has to rebel sometime,  at least they are doing it with chins and not explosions. Although both chins, explosions and the Amish went together really well with synth music and Harrison Ford in a movie one time, remember that? And there was that one scene where Harrison Ford was just staring at this Amish woman washing her boobs, and for some reason that meant he was falling in love with her and not that he was perving on a topless lady? Watching that movie taught me the most important thing I learned in my leaving cert, you guys – Amish Women totally shave their armpits].

Also, apparently it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman in possesion of a disposable income must be in want of a fucking stupid magazine. When this happened was probably around the time Jane Austen finished writing the real version of that sentence. Except back then, they didn’t call them stupid fucking magazines, they called them ‘Everything The Brontes Ever Wrote Forever’. I’m not saying those girls were ridiculous, I’m just saying that if they were around today, they would totally be massive Twilight fans, you know?

The amount of magazines we sell that have headlines like ‘HELP! My sister married an Alien!’, or ‘Evil Stepdad killed our dog… Then moved into the shed!’ is fucking ridiculous. Like, I get that they are hilarious, and that reading about a dude who accidentely cut his own balls off with a hedge trimmer is probably the closest we can ever get to true comedic gold, but I really don’t think the people buying these magazines do. I think they are genuinely concerned about the fucking idiots in those stories. And that idea scares the shit out of me. I mean, I can tell you exactly why terrible things keep happening to the people who have stories based about them written in Take A Break- it’s called Natural Selection. These dudes are not the fittest and we gotta stop letting them profit off that. I mean, if a dude is so fat his pants have to be made out of tents, then I don’t think we should feel sorry for that guy. I think we should stop feeding him. And if Take A Break is giving him money, or jelly beans or whatever it is incredibly fat/ stupid people barter in, he’s probably gonna just put jam on that shit and have a nurse feed it to him. Probably through a drip.

It’s not even the obviously stupid magazines that are stupid, it’s the Ladies Magazines, too. You know, magazines for ladies. You can tell the difference between them because Ladies Magazines are written on shinier paper, cost more and usually have Cheryl Cole on the cover. Older Ladies Magazines are pretty much the same but they have a picture of someone from Loose Women on the front. I guess as you age, it’s not just your boobs that drop, it is also your standards.

I was sending back a pile of these magazines the other day because they hadn’t sold, and I was thinking about how stupid they were, when I saw the most gloriously stupid article advertised on the front page. It was right in between ‘300 Ways To Make Your Husband Respect You as A Woman Or Some Shit’, and ‘Autumn Accessories: What Your Ankles Say About YOU’. Those two article titles might not be entirely accurate, but they mostly are. Anyway, this most glorious article was called ‘INSIDE: THREE ways to make sure you are NEVER sick again!’

Let me just recap this for you real quick: This magazine was advertising three techniques to ensure perfect health forever. Three rules, which, if followed, mean that your immune system is fucking superfluous. Fuck medicine, guys, this article promised to make all doctors join the Dole queue.

Did I read the article?

You bet your ass I did. FOR SCIENCE:

Rule 1: ‘Don’t Get Stressed!’

My favourite thing about rule one was definitely the exclamation point. Gee, Ladies Magazine, thanks for informing me that this statement was to be exclaimed, my attention would never have been drawn to it otherwise. I wonder was it there to infer that I should have shouted it while I read, or that the statement was a shock, or that I should feel really strongly about it. Man, all this confusion is kind of stressful, I hope this new stress I have doesn’t lead to Lupus or something.

Rule 2: ‘Make More Time For Friends!’

This rule really should have specified that you should only make more time for your healthy friends. Don’t make more time for that guy you know who has Leprosy. Or maybe it should say ‘Make More Time For Friends But Always Wear A Mask Because You Know Bird Flu Is Still A Thing I Think’, but then where would you put the exclamation point?

Rule 3: ‘Have More Sex!’

I think this article forgot that STIs were a real thing. Also, not even STIs, what about UTIs? This rule is probably the one that is most likely to blow up in your face [and also the one that I am most likely to incorporate into my diet, LADIES]

I would definitely not advice doing all three rules at once, dudes. Spending stress free time with your mates while having sex is a surefire way to recieving no Christmas cards this year. Unless you’re having stress free sex with your mates, but if you have a lot of mates then probably you’re going to be exhausted all of the times. Zen, sure, but it’ll be hard to go to work.

The thing is, it ‘s almost definitely advice like this that got Snooki where she is today. Sure, she’s a millionaire, but she also says things like ‘Oops, my vagina’s out’, and she means them. Also, bitch is radioactive, you know? Bad calls have been made in her life. And yet, she is profiting from them. And I totally help her do that because Jersey Shore is hilarious. Why am I enabling this thing that is so obviously terrible? Because it’s comedy gold, that’s why. That is why we all do it. Except th actually stupid, who don’t get the joke, bless them, but still get the flu because sex has never been known to cure any serious illness, except Ineedtogetlaiditus, or shitwheresmyboner disease, which flare up a lot around Lent, especially if you are starring in a mid level comedy about how sex is less important than lilies.

I do have a real serious point to make about this dumbing down of society that is going on, chaps, and it is this- If the choice is between saving the world by getting rid of stupid people, or laughing at the shit they do and keeping them around, then I have only one thing to say on the matter:

Can we talk about the pig pooping thing again, or is it Too Soon?

Never Take A Button From A Stranger

You guys, something is happening and I am not a fan of it, but I think I’ve figured out what it is.

I’m pretty sure my blog is under a Gypsy Curse.

I mean, I hate to jump to conclusions, but I saw that movie where the hot chick disappeared under a train, so I am pretty confidant I know the signs. Firstly, last time I deleted all my spam comments [spam comments are wicked harsh, by the way, every day I get like fifty billion of them and they are all about the ‘About’ section of this thing, which if you haven’t read it is some of my best work. If you have, it didn’t take long. Anyway, they all say things like ‘So this utile friendly taught me everything I need to know about your services. Please to have all your hens in one basket’ and I’m like ‘Toms Shoes, I know you have better grammar than that’. Make an effort like, jeez.] there was one there from a ‘Dancing Goat Company’. I am pretty sure dancing goats have no place being a business, unless that is the business of GYPSY CURSES.

Also, a friend of mine who is making shapes in the world of comedy over in that foreign place [London] asked me to write a blog for her around about the time of the Edinburgh Fringe, so I was like ‘Obviously chalk it down, I’m mad for attention’. So I wrote it, sent it off and it never went up on her site thing. ‘Oh well’, I thought, ‘Guess I am not actually as class as I thought. How embarrassing’, and then I ate my weight in biscuits [which gets more impressive every time you do it, by the way. My ultimate goal is to be able to say ‘More biscuits please’, and someone will legitimately have to answer ‘..There are no more’. Perfect days.], cried myself to sleep and forgot about it. Rejection is harsh, but it is way less harsh than dating someone who is a bit of a dickhead, you know?

Anyway, so I moved on, seasons changed, and then a few days ago I decided ‘Fuck it, I have actually no social or personal life, why not organise my gmail into interesting and complicated folders,that sounds like a great way to spend an evening’. So while I was doing that, I found an email I sent to Topman  looking for a job [like, not literally, I know Topman is not a person. You only make that mistake once, Miss Fantasia. In hindsight, the clues were there]. Dudes, if there is one thing in this world I am sure of, it is that I was born to represent that place. Even their new highly offensive t shirts would look great on me.  Someday, after I get my job as a well paid rich person, Imma have a Topman installed in my house, but I’m just going to call it ‘my wardrobe’, and everytime I walk by, Imma say BOOM and it will be totally justified.

ANYWAY, I’m mad for digressions, soz babes, I sent them this email with a cover letter that said something like

‘Dear dude at Topman, I’m pure class, see you Monday,


PS: Here’s my CV or whatever xxx’

And I had my CV attached. Only I didn’t in fact. I had sent Topman an attachment alright, but not one that represented my employment and education history. You see where this is going, right?

I emailed my blog post to Topman, and they didn’t hire me for it.

Gypsy fucking Curse.

And to make it worse, I totally DID NOT email my blog post to the comedy website, thus killing two carreer birds with the one Gypsy Curse/ bad computer skillz. Shit buzz, amiright?

But the final straw came the day before yesterday. Oh what a great day that was. I learned so much about time travel that day, dudes, it was a fucking good time. And on top of that, I found a really awesome book about dinosaurs that had equal amounts science and pictures [which is also how I like my ladies, LADIES], and I totally planned on updating this motherfucker, and so I fucking did. Not only did I update this bitch, I fucking explained shit.

I gave a hilarious history of all the rad reasons I didn’t put any writing in this space for like two months. And all of the reasons were brilliant. Gold, even. You dudes would not have been pissed at all if you had read them, swear down. Also, I wrote a very short story entitled ‘Dinosaur Boob Explosions’, and that was literally the subject matter. Think about that for a second, and weep for what might have been.

I even made jokes about an old lady who is in Mountjoy because of her trees and the ESB [not immediately hilarious, I grant you, but when you take into account that two of the quotes from the article about her in the paper were ‘The ESB has been quoted as saying they ‘Are not PROUD of how things worked out..’, and also an old man saying ‘I’m willing to die for this woman’s right to have trees’ or something, it got pretty funny. Trust].

I was on fire. I was on such fire, I did something I have never done on this blog before, and probably never will again because who the fuck is bothered- I PROOFREAD the bastard. I am fairly sure I didn’t proofread my college work, but I proofread that bad boy. And then I sat back because that’s what you do when you are Reaganing. You enjoy that shit. And then I pressed ‘PUBLISH’

And then Eircom farted.

Or maybe it didn’t fart. It is possible that Eircom was fine, and that unfortunately for me, some Neutrinos which were travelling through time escaped from underneath Sweden and travelled along an uncharted path to my very house, whereupon they got mixed up in whatever magic makes wireless internet A Thing That Is Real, and entered my computer through science exactly 20 parts per million faster than light, and then ate my blog post.

I mean, who really knows what those dudes are doing under there. Those guys are planning something, I know it. And whatever it is, I just bet it involves a Dinosaur boob explosion, because if you can travel in time, what the fuck else would it involve, setting you parents up at a school disco? They could have been planning this shit from the very beginning, you guys. In fact, they probably were.



They might even have hired the Gypsy.