Lovely Jubblies

I want to talk to you about boobs. My boobs. I want to take a second to talk to you about my boobs. 
My jubblies.  My melons. My super duper fun bags. 

Specifically the fact that they are mine. 
This might seem obvious to you but to a number of idiots out there it is not. 

I own boobs. And the pair bestowed to me are on a rather grand scale. And for some reason some men seem to feel the need to point this out to me. 

On a daily basis I will have at least one comment along the lines of 'sexy tits', 'huge tits' and the latest was the poetic 'Hey, lovely big tits!' (These men all have a thesaurus it would appear). 

I have been groped on occasions unfortunately too numerous to count. Certain men seem to think that large boobs are a toy in some kind of bouncy fun factory that they can play with. 

There are so so many things I wish to talk about in reference to this.

Thing number one. 
What do you think you are going to gain from comments like this?
'Oh my God, you are so right! And actually very sexy. I think you and I should go and make sweet sweet love till the sun comes up...'

Thing number two
Why? Why say anything at all? Are some men's response button so absolutely ridiculously shortly wired that they can't walk past a large breasted women without the first thought that enters their tiny tiny brains leaving their disgusting little mouths. I know I have big breasts, you know I have big breasts. I thank you for the information.  

Is this the equivalent of 'Sorry, I think you dropped your wallet?'

'Sorry, are you aware that you have lovely big breasts?'

Thing number three. 
I don't dress provocatively. I am the wrong side of thirty for that. It's best for everyone involved, believe me. So it's not as though I'm 'asking for it'. I was born this way. Well, obviously not born this way, that would have been horrific for my poor mother, I was a big enough baby as it is. But what I'm trying to say is that it is the equivalent of walking past someone and saying 'You have massive ears' or 'Wow! Look at your super hot crooked nose' I'm not trying to draw attention to myself and they are not for you. 

And even if I was showing them off that is absolutely my choice and I should not have to modify the way I dress because some pea brain penis faces cannot control their responses or their hands. These poor, poor men with their Neanderthal brains who can't control themselves. I should wear dark polo necks all year round to not confuse these poor stupid creatures. 5 year olds know not to behave in this way and so should you. 

It makes me so so angry. I am not an object and nor is any woman to be made to feel dirty or guilty for their existence. We are not here for your entertainment and the next man who says something to me along these lines in serious danger of getting the response -
'Hey! My knee is in your crotch!'

Of course this is not all men, but take it from me, the numbers are surprisingly high. But unfortunately it won't be the ones reading this. I'd be surprised if they can read. 

Ask Auntie Suzy

For some unknown reason, as a veteran singleton, a lot of people come to me for advice on their relationships. Friends, family, strangers (through my twitter - not just in the street). And yes, this is a touch strange. I feel that that is a bit like going to a homeless person to ask for tips on high finance. However, they seem pleased with what I have to offer (the poor ignorant fools!) and so I thought I might enrich your lives by sharing some helpful tips with you here. 
Think of me as a sort of relationship Gandhi. In heels. 

1. This is quite possibly the most useful piece of information you will ever need. Ever. You don't even need to read on. Tips 2 to 5 might as well be a recipe for a tasty lasagna. 

MEN ARE NOT PSYCHIC

I know! I was as surprised as you are! They have done tests and everything. Turns out - men are normal human beings.  Have a seat, drink some tea and digest that massive bit of news before reading on...

If a man, for example, asks you where you want to go for dinner and you answer

'Wherever. I don't mind.'

But what you're actually thinking is 'I want you to take me to the Italian restaurant where we had our first date, but I want you to come up with the idea because that would mean you are incredibly romantic and the one for me', then you are setting yourself up for a whole heap of disappointment, a night of grumpy and probably an argument. 

You have two choices - 

1. TELL HIM THAT THAT IS WHAT YOU WANT

2. Be happy that you are having some lovely quality time with your fella and it ACTUALLY doesn't matter where you go. 

You have to tell men, or women for that matter what it is you want. Or you will not get it. 

After that little bombshell let's move on to number two. 

2. Does he like me? 

Brace yourself for another shocker...
I'm not psychic either. 

I'm not trying to be mean, or say you're an idiot for asking this question. Of course it's frustrating when you're in the prestages and you have no idea what that person is thinking or feeling. Remember (as in point  number 1) they have no idea what you are thinking either. 

We can sit here for days going through every tiny detail - 'but for exactly how many seconds did he look at you as you sat down at your desk? If it was 2 - he isn't interested, 4 - he wants to marry you and have your babies, 7 - he thinks there is a possibility that you are a cyborg and is checking your neck for seams' 

But the only thing you can do is wait. As boring as that sounds. Wait, be happy with your life as it is and these things will run their course. If you spend your time obsessing about one man you will only chase him away anyway. Enjoy these early exciting stages. 


3. Can I trust him?

Yes. As simple as that may seem.  Unless he does something to show you otherwise, the answer has to be yes. If you don't trust him it has nothing to do with him and everything to do with you and how you have been treated in the past. Leave the past right where it belongs. 


4. How do I find a boyfriend?

As cliche as it sounds, stop looking. 

I know you've heard it a thousand times. But really. Do the things that make you happy, spend time with friends, indulge yourself. No man or woman will ever complete you. You complete you. And you will be far more attractive to someone if you are a happy fulfilled person than if they sense that you have some sort of reliance on them to make you happy. 
If you find someone - great. If you don't, you'll be happy anyway. Win win. 


5. How do I know if he's the one?

You don't. You can only know if he makes you happy. If he does, keep him. If he doesn't, get one that does. 


For any questions that haven't been answered here (and feel free to keep sending them to me), try ice-cream. In my experience, ice-cream solves pretty much every problem. For the worst problems I recommend Ben and Jerry's Phish food. 

How to be a better girlfriend

I am furious. My blood is boiling. I cannot see straight.

I have just read an 'article' (the quotation marks are a representation of me doing bunny rabbit ear fingers, with a tone of extreme sarcasm in my voice - I thought I'd better let you know, as these things sometimes don't come across in the reading), this 'article' is all about how to be a better girlfriend. This is a horrific enough concept in itself. Sure, I am all for improving relationships, with... Oh, I don't know, some new age concept, such as communication, but, this 'article' seems to have been written at some point during the 1950's. If it was, we could read and have a giggle and say 'How stupid we were back then, haven't we come a long way?' and then go back to waxing the cat. However, this was published TODAY. I will not direct you to the 'article', as it deserves absolutely no traffic. I will, however, share with you some of it's highlights....



5. Stock your fridge with beer. Never run out of beer when he comes to see you. A mediocre girlfriend will go out and buy beer once he comes over, but a fantastic girlfriend will have the beer already waiting.

Good Lord, imagine being only a mediocre girlfriend. The kind of stupid bitch who goes out to buy beer every time her man comes over. Presumably because she is spending the rest of her time writing poetry about him, or embroidering a portrait of him into her lacy bedspread. Now, that's the kind of unthinking woman who deserves to be shown the back of his hand to remind her who's boss!


6. Keep making the effort. Even if you two have been together for a year, don't start dressing like a slob and all of a sudden put on an abundance of weight. Of course women can tend to yo-yo, especially after the holidays, but if you gain too much — as superficial as it sounds — he is not going to be happy.
Try to maintain the way you were when you met him. Or better yourself because you are so happy to be with this man that you love to look good for him. Dress up at least once in a while. He will be pleasantly surprised and turned on!

That's right - you are so happy to be with the man, that you should be in a perpetual state of discomfort. You are so happy, that you should feel the need to 'better yourself'. Because, let's face it, somehow you fooled him into liking you for who you are, (well done on that witchcraft by the way!) and God forbid he finds out that you are human under that perfect body! May I recommend plastic surgery? Because, the truth is, you are bloody lucky he is with you now. In a year or two, he'll be having sex with his secretary and you'll only have yourself to blame.



 
9. Wake up with a smile. Men love a positive woman they can wake up to in the morning with the glass being half full instead of half empty. What will score you more points is to let him lie in while you make breakfast or serve him coffee in bed. 




Great tip! Maybe I should also iron his shirts, make his packed lunch and use this time to do my hair and make-up. Because, as in handy tip number 6, if he wakes up and I look like a normal human being, he'll probably pour scolding water on me, like I damn well deserve.


12. Remember: Food is the way to a man's heart. You do not have to be a gourmet chef, but if you have a few exciting recipes in your repertoire, then you will look even better. This is especially useful when he has his friends around. Give them their guy time and make food. If cooking is not your thing, have a great array of take-away menus at your disposal.


Yep. Make food for him and his friends. Don't talk to them though. They've been doing man things all day. They don't want to hear about periods and babies. Back in the kitchen, Sweetheart!



13. Learn his language. When he's thirsty, he's thirsty. When he says "yes" he means "yes" and not "no." When he says he's hungry, well you better get some food in his stomach soon. Also note men don't like to walk around when they are hungry looking for a restaurant as us women will do.

Yep, when he says he's hungry, you'd better get some food in his stomach, as is your job, in fact your only reason for being.
And man, us women are such stupid bitches, looking for restaurants when we are hungry. We should be happy to lick the chewing gum off the pavement just like he does!



 
I feel I've learned a lot from this 'smarticle'. I now know EXACTLY how to behave in a relationship and I will damn well make sure not to mess it up by in any way having a personality.

Phew. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really shouldn't be wasting my time writing, which is a task that really should be left to a super clever man, I'm going to go and curl my hair and bake a delicious apple pie to see if I can bag a husband.

Ghosts of boyfriends past

Everyone has some of those old photos that they would rather disappeared off the face of the planet. Reminders of a bad choice, be it a dreadful haircut or really really horrific outfit. 

These days with Facebook, these photos are even more accessible and even less burnable. Sure, you can untag yourself, but somewhere out there is an awful reminder of that hideous fur catsuit you were convinced looked amazing when you left the house. You were Naomi Campbell. No. You were in fact RuPaul. 

There was a horrific period, if you recall, in the nineties when lime green and fluorescent orange was for some reason deemed to be acceptable. And not, as it should have been, an arrestable offence. If you don't recall this period, I can only assume that it is because your brain has blacked it out for your own protection. 
During this time, I owned a bright orange skin tight Lycra shirt with a black collar. Feeling this wasn't ludicrous enough, I would often couple this with some Boyzone dog tags. Hell yeah I was a stylish chick. Without any friends. This outfit is etched onto the back of my eyeballs as a mistake that should not have been made. Why did no one do anything? Like push me down a well?

Luckily, there is no photographic evidence of this atrocity. Maybe because people who even attempted to look directly at me would have their retinas burnt. 

I have a friend who used to wear foundation two shades too pale. She looked like a lost Parisian mime. Did I do the honourable thing and tell her? No. No I did not. I let her carry on scaring children and dogs as any good friend would. 

This hall of shame is not unfortunately limited to clothing or awful haircuts. We can add into this mix boyfriends who shouldn't have been. 

Ah yes. The 'what-in-God's-name-did-I-see-in-you?' Museum. 

Everyone has at least one. I, unfortunately have several. 

There's the one who ended up in a mental hospital. 

There's the one who become a monk. 

The four, five or six who turned out to be gay. (That I know of). 

The one who left me for someone else because God told him to. 

I wish I was making this up. I really do. But I'm not. Well, at least I got some good writing material out of it. And some stories to laugh at with my therapist.

And I suppose in a way, we have to have these awful relationships to prove to ourselves what it is we really want. 
But do we? Do we really? I mean, I don't need to drink a bucket of vomit to know that I would actually rather have a cake. 

And yet, somewhere along the way, I really wanted to be with these idiots. In the same way that I was happy to be dressed like a children's entertainer on ecstasy.

They say love is blind. Sometimes I think it can be deaf, mute and quite frankly a little bit slow of learning. 

I guess all we can do is pat ourselves on the back for burning those outfits and ditching those awful men. This is what makes us become complete human beings. Right? Yes. Let's all tell ourselves that... 

As for that shirt, I have no idea what happened to it in the end. I must have seen sense and thrown it out. Maybe Lady Gaga has it? Maybe it is being used by woodsmen to protect themselves from bears. Who knows... Who knows.... 

I will not think about you naked. Promise.

A question was posed to me a couple of days ago. A question of the sex and relationship kind. I love a good question of the sex and relationship kind. And once a question is posed to me, I like to have a good old ponder. And then an ice cream. And then a further ponder. And then I like to share my views with you stunningly beautiful people. You are, you know, each and every one of you. Except you. Put your clothes back on.

The question went thus - 

'Can a straight man and a straight woman ever have a completely platonic friendship without either of them thinking of the other in a sexual way, ever?'

My first reaction to this was - Absolutely. Of course. I have many straight single male friends and there has never been even the slightest question of anything more between us. 

And then I thought, 'Really?... Really? No question at all? Really?' and then I thought, 'Hmm, maybe you're right, Second Me... The more I think about it, the more you could be right...'

If I think of my straight male friends, some of them did, of course, come with the initial thought of 'Oh hello you... Would you like to put your head between my breasts?' but then we become friends and heads in breasts is just considered a faux pas.

And for the ones that it has never crossed my mind to think of in that dirty dirty way, not at all, not even once, not even if I had had a bath filled with tequila, how can I be completely sure it has never once crossed their mind. I mean, look at me. I'm hot. I would. 

Narcissistic comments aside, I think that a purely platonic relationship is possible.

But maybe only if the two people involved are very unattractive. Or have got to the stage where the relationship is very close and it would be like getting down and dirty with your brother or sister. The thought of which has made me vom in my mouth a little bit. 

But in any friendship, at some stage, bumping uglies will probably cross your mind. But I guess, it then depends how that thought makes you feel. If it's a bit vomey in your mouth, then it's probably not right.

Getting back to nature, we should really all be having sex with each other all the time. To, you know, populate the planet and that. It's only boring society that says that that's not acceptable these days. So maybe these thoughts are always there and we are just constantly filtering them out of our heads just to be able to get on with our lives. It would be pretty tough to get any work done that's for sure, if we were just having to have sex with everybody. And when would we get time to eat? Think about it... These are the dangers of non platonic relationships. Take note kids, Just Say No.

When you least expect it

In the last few years, dating websites have been popping up all over the virtual shop like moles in a beautifully newly mown croquet lawn. One thing that is obvious in this is that so many people are searching for love. I mean, like, google searching for love. But the only thing I can see that this can result in is lots of money for I_am_desperate_for_a_man_who_is_in_no_way_like_the_last_twentyfive_shitheads_I've_dated. Com. 

I'm not going to have a go at dating websites here. Of course, in this day and age, meeting new people can be really difficult. Especially in a city like London, where the abnormal act of actually striking up a conversation with a stranger usually results in a swift pepper spraying. 

I know lots of people who have met through dating sites and are wonderfully happy. Indeed, my own little sojourn into the world wide weird web has giving me a lot of material to use in these blogs. And tales to regale my therapist with. 

It's the act of actively looking for love that I'm going to talk about. There is the age old saying that love happens when you least expect it. For those of us who have been single since the Vikings invaded, anyone who hands out this superduper helpful advice is risking a good old fashioned punch in the face. 

Of course, I'm not flyering for potential boyfriends or checking the ring finger of every man I sit next to on a bus. But, of course, when you are single and not wanting to be you can find yourself buying things to help you become more attractive, going to places to try to meet potential mates and Internet dating. 

And yet, in my experience, the people who have found true wonderfully slushy greeting card type love have stumbled across it, sometimes on websites, at a point in their lives when they are so ridiculously happy that everyone falls in love with them on sight. 

I mean, when have you ever heard a love story that started with 'I saw her from across the room, she looked tired, miserable, no self confidence and with an air of desperation, I knew I had to speak to her at once...'

Next time you are on a tube, train, bus, sexual health clinic, anywhere where there are lots of people, have a look to see who are the most attractive people in the crowd. Male and female. And then, what is it that is attractive about them? The clothes they are wearing? Hair? Make up? Possibly. (Men do look hot with eyeliner). But more than likely it is that walking with air of confidence, that complete happiness in themselves. This is something that draws people in. 

Instead of spending money on dating websites, or things that will make you more attractive, why not spend money on things that will make you happy. Like ice cream. A weekend at the beach. A week in Brad Pitt's underwear. Because these things can just as easily lead you down the path to love. And if they don't, you'll be happy and won't care anyway. 

Now, if you'll excuse me, Ben, Jerry and I have to pack, we've booked ourselves in for a week away in Benedict Cumberbatch's Briefs. (Try saying that three times with marbles in your mouth - or not - whatever makes you happy). 

Breasts are not news

As you are only able to see the (completely accurate) cartoon of my legs, and not a full length picture, cartoon or otherwise, it is important that you are aware that I have very large breasts. I mean that it is important for the purposes of this blog. Not just as a boast. 

Lets talk about The Sun. The National newspaper not the hardly ever viewed orb in the sky. 

Reading the sun goes a bit like this - Page One - outrage at the latest thing we have decided to be outraged by. Usually paedophiles.

Page two - look who got thrown out of The X factor.

Page three - woman with breasts.

Page four - Ahhh! Look! Kate Middleton with a puppy. 

Why is this acceptable? (The naked woman with the puppies- not Duchess of Cambridge the puppy) Has this become like background noise to us now and we don't even think about what a ridiculous idea it is. 

There is a wonderful campaign running at the moment called No More Page 3. It is calling for The Sun to get rid of its topless girlie pictures. This is a campaign I am fully behind. It is my opinion that these dated pictures are large part of the reason that otherwise reasonable men think that it is ok to downright stare, to comment as you pass them in the street and even occasionally grab, if you happen to have large breasts. 

Almost as if having been blessed with oversized breasticles, you are automatically giving permission to every Tom, Dick and Wanker to treat you like dirt. 

One time, a man, who had his arm around his girlfriend reached out to grab my breast as I passed the couple. I wish I was joking. I really do. 

If you saw someone with a huge nose, is it acceptable to whisper 'massive conk' at them as they pass? Is it normal behaviour to maybe sneak a little stroke of their appendage? Of course it isn't. Breasts are a body part like any other.

But, I have to deal with comments on a daily basis. A perfectly nice stroll through the park is blackened as a man sneers 'cracking tits' at you as he slimes past. I am not exaggerating when I say daily basis. Truly. 

Don't get me wrong. This is not a 'my gold shoes are too tight and my pearl necklace is choking me' type blog. I am more than happy with what I've got. Yes, of course, there is the backache, the having to wear two parachutes tied together instead of a bra, the black eyes when jogging. And, indeed, big breasts are, in general, a wonderful thing. All breasts - big, small, round, square all colours, shapes, sizes and creeds. Breast should be celebrated. But not like this. 

The Sun's arguments for this ridiculous feature  that it is clinging onto desperately, include the word 'harmless'. It will not admit, that this might be the only reason this awful paper sells. But when children are subjected to this feature on a daily basis, on trains, in waiting rooms, at home, what kind of 'harmless' message are we giving to them?

This world is already an unstable place in terms of the horrific things that young people have access to with the progression of the Internet. Do we need to add this into the mix too?

We are telling young girls that this is something they should aspire to. Their fifteen minutes of fame. We are telling young boys that girls want to be looked at as sex objects. They love it. This is completely normal. Go on, have a squeeze...

The buck has to stop somewhere and I say it should be here. 

Because breasts are not news. 

Sign this petition and make it stop

http://www.change.org/en-GB/petitions/dominic-mohan-take-the-bare-boobs-out-of-the-sun-nomorepage3