Firstly, what is a borstal? A borstal was a type of youth prison in the United Kingdom, run by the Prison Service and intended to reform seriously delinquent young people.

Now, don’t get me wrong, there are A LOT of well trained decent men out there but for the 99% of you plonkas knocking about behaving like uncouth numpties, this one is for you.

What is the deal with pissing all over the toilet seat? Is it too much of a challenge to lift it? Moreover, dude, can’t you AIM? My greatest fear is unisex toilets because you can bet your bottom dollar that some dude has marked his territory all over the shop. Plus the smell! It’ll burn your nose hair right out… sod Vicks Vapor rub, get yourself checked into a dude’s toilet, it’ll clear your nasal blockage within minutes. It’ll probably scar your eyes for life too…especially if you catch sight of an old man’s shrivelled bell end. And, guys, it wouldn’t hurt to flush once in a while? The last thing anyone wants to see is your steaming floater…I assure you.

At borstal you’d have had a bog flushing followed by ten tones of shit knocked out of you for that sort of misbehaviour. You’d be nicknamed the scat king thereafter entering whole new levels of ‘shit spreader’ right there…

It does frustrate me when a man you don’t even know is burping and farting right in front of you after literally two minutes of being your acquaintance. It just makes me want to shove a cork up his arse and horse balls down his throat. Choke and self combust sweetheart.

Have you also noticed how a lot of guys don’t mind wearing boxers for more than one day in a row? Some even turn them inside out to get more days wear out of them. Course that’s attractive having skid marks as long as the M1 rubbing up and down your bum beard for day after day. Is it any wonder you have spider monkeys clinging onto your pubic hair AND don’t even go there because that’s not something to be proud of. Sure everyone enjoys bouncing about with week old shit strapped to their arse pubes. Right?

Of course, us women we’re so high maintenance… why?? Because we have embraced the concept of personal hygiene??

Come on boys…make some effort. Check into Borstal.

Cougarized.

Glossary for my American followers:

Plonkas = Shits

Uncouth = Lacking refinement / common

Numpties = Idiots

Winky = Willy

Floater = Poo at the surface of toilet water

M1 = VERY long motor way in the UK

Spider Monkeys = Chunks of shit clinging onto bum hair

From my experience, musicians are better off on stage. If you are a masochist, maybe they are for you but here are a few reasons why they aren’t worth the bother.

•  Most musicians don’t know their arse from their tit. This is why they have hoards of people running around ‘taking care’ of them. Hell, they’re so damn incompetent they even need a stylist to dress them. Next you’ll have Mothercare at your door wanting to endorse them with reusable nappies. If that happens, blag a few dummies…one for his mouth and one for his arse. Both never stay shut so this could be a solution?
• If they don’t have hoards of people looking after them, they’re probably unsuccessful. If they are unsuccessful this will affect their ego – not good. They’ll end up spending most of their time in the corner of your room spazzing out with their guitar while they burn holes in their shoes with their eyes like some delinquent child. This will put you in an early grave if not on Prozac.
•  They’re always on tour leaving you starved of sex whilst they are blatantly off pumping a bunch of groupies in between shows. Yep, the only thing they’ll be bringing you back is crabs. That’s if you’re lucky, it could be A LOT worse.
•  When they start writing shit songs you’ll have to be supportive and bop at their shows but secretly you’ll be looking around a full venue of people wondering why the fuck they  left their houses to watch this shit.
•  49.5% of their time they’ll be writing music or in rehearsal, 49.5% of their time they’ll spend wanking off in the tour van and 1% of their time they’ll be thinking about you. Definitely not the foundations for a stable relationship.
•  When you break up, they’ll write a bunch of break up songs where they illustrate how you hurt them. Radio shows will say people can relate to their lyrics but what everyone will really be thinking is “Poor bastard, what’s he gonna do with the 1% of his time he used to think about her?” I’ll answer that for you now, he’ll probably be thinking about wanking in a sock.
• You’ll have to listen to them winge and moan about other members of the band. It’ll be relentless moaning which you’ll have to endure sympathetically but all you’re really craving is him getting his arse back on tour pronto so some other misfortunate bastard can relieve you of your misery and listen to his constant bull shit. These people will be PAID to listen but you aren’t so why bother? Simple: DON’T.
• When he has a break from touring and you finally get some alone time you’ll get him naked and be shocked by his tan. I’ve got news for you, this isn’t a tan, its weeks of dirt from lack of washing which has been engrained into the pores of his skin. You may even find a tick in his hair from a festival last year and you don’t want no lime disease. Before you know it, you’ll be on the blower to MJ’s Dr. Buying bottles of skin bleach to get him clean again. Filthy bastard.
• Do you REALLY want your first born to be called Fender Marauder???

People criticize groupies but they aren’t stupid. Like babysitters, they ‘look after’ musicians for a few hours then give them back when their time is up.

Sounds good to me.

Cougarized

I’d never dated a guy with a full grown beard until recently.  Looking back on that relationship, it was like fighting my way through Dante’s nine circles of hell. His beard didn’t help.

Here’s why beards don’t help matters…

• They smell of puke. Plain and simple. They stink. I can’t be convinced otherwise, I’ve been there.
• Beards are like facial nets, they catch nuggets of food. You’ll wake up one morning with rats having a picnic on your boyfriends’ face. He’ll probably wake up cleaner though.
• Beards hide the ugly man underneath. Do you want the man you’re with to be peek-a-booing his eyes out of his face at you?
• Big beards are often owned by lazy men who can’t be arsed to shave. If they can’t be arsed to shave pubes off their face, what’s the likelihood they wipe their arses after a shit? I’m certainly not placing any bets on that one…don’t even push me onto the subject of washing ones hands after the toilette either.
• When you caress your boyfriend’s face you want to be thinking romantic thoughts instead you’ll be thinking “Ah shit, I forgot to buy Brillo pads this week.”
• Do you want a thorn bush rubbing up in-between your thighs? Girls, will those be cries of joy or sheer pain? You’ll be screaming “Stop!” but not because it’s so good but because it’s ripping you raw - the beard is doing you serious damage down there!
• Sorry, when did dating your Dad become fashionable? Pray tell.
• Whilst walking about town, people will start to throw coins at him and start shouting “Got a copy of the Big Issue mate?” You’ll want the world to swallow you up. Tip: If that happens, pretend you don’t know him then when you get home and he asks you what all that was about, say: “Sorry baby, I was just thinking of the cover of Vogue”. He won’t ask you questions about fashion.  It’s too complicated.
• When he does finally get around to shaving his beard (at Xmas maybe?) you’ll need nerves of steel and an empty stomach to deal with what you find underneath. Spots the size of corks. Months of dead skin, oil, grease, sweat, food, puke all compact into bullets of filth wedged within his pores. When you squeeze them, wear goggles and maintain some distance in case waterfalls of puss squirt out at you - violently. For a while he may knock about with a complexion comparable to the surface craters of the moon but hey, at least you’ll be able to see him now.

If you have a bearded boyfriend, love him but hate the beard, my advice would be to get him to save up for laser hair removal treatment. That way you can trust the beard will never return. If he refuses, kick him to the curb and find someone who embraces personal hygiene and shaves his face pubes.

Cougarized

So yesterday I found myself eating a couple of plums. Now, in my head I thought, “I’ll just wash my plums”… Then it occurred to me that had I have said that in public, people would probably laugh and crack potty mouth jokes at me.

I really resent the fact that such a tasty nice looking fruit such as a plum could be associated with some dirty rotten pair of man balls.

How did this happen? More to the point, WHY? They are nothing alike…

Here’s the Plums Vs Bollocks:

• Plums are nice and round – Bollocks are absolutely hanging, literally. Often appear deformed and look more like an abscess on a donkey’s arsehole.
• Plums taste so sweet – Bollocks taste like BO mixed in with a bit of sweat topped with piss with the occasional sprinkling of shit dust.
• Plums are soft – bollocks are frankly rough as hell, covered in sporadic pubic wiring with the occasional barnacle/ingrown hair thrown into the mix.
• Never in my life have I looked at a plum and not thought “Nice” whereas it’s happened many times I’ve looked at a pair of bollocks and thought “What the fuck is that? It looks like some sort of plucked Poisson that’s had a fight with a barb wire fence”.
• A plum is just full of tasty fruit flesh which smells fragrant – And bollocks? Let’s face it, bollocks are just like saggy pouches which harbour liquid, much like puss, deceptively appearing clear when first exited yet swiftly turning all white and sticky like phlegm. Did I mention the smell can more often than not make you gag? Basically, the last thing you want to do is bite too hard on them.
• If a Plum has a skin deformation, you don’t panic because you know it’ll be fine – when a pair of bollocks has a skin deformation you’ll be down your local G.U.M  (Genital Urinary Medicines) clinic quicker than you can say “Bob’s yer Uncle” getting your mouth checked out before the herpes spread to your tits, down to your fanny making you infertile before killing you dead.
• When you look at a plum you think “Hmm, I can’t wait to get my mouth around that” – When you look at a pair of bollocks you think “Right, I’m gonna take one for the team, I’ll hold my breath and make it quick, hopefully if I shove a finger up his arse it’ll be over sooner rather than later”.

As you can see, Plums and Bollocks are beyond comparable so next time someone cracks a smart arse joke about your plum resembling some bollocks, just remind them of some of the above points WHY they are far from similar.

If all else fails, choke the joker with a pair of sweaty bollocks. Don’t even feel bad about it. They will deserve it.

Cougarized

After being in relationships with extremely skinny men, here is why I think they are pointless:

• Your sex life will be limited. Well, you wouldn’t want to snap him? Plus, if you went on top, you’d lose him inside you. It’d be like a vacuum sucking up a whisker.
• He’ll bruise you up but not in a good way e.g hot sex, his bones will pierce into your flesh and you’ll leave the bedroom as if someone had taken a baseball bat to your inner thighs.
• You’ll cuddle him and instead of thinking “You give me the horn, take me now”, you’ll be thinking “You poor starved orphan. What orphanage did you runaway from? Do you want some soup? Don’t worry, you can always have more”.
• You’ll be scared to have a night of deep sleep just in case you wake up and find him dead : suffocated from when you rolled over him in the middle of the night.
• You’ll be compelled to cradle him like a newborn and end up running around after him and wiping his arse because the instinctual Mother in you will possess you.
• You’ll pity him because his naked body will remind you of an empty bird cage propped up on two matchsticks. This is not good because you’ll sleep with him simply because you feel sorry for him.
• All your friends will secretly nickname him Twiglet, Starvin Marvin or The Man Child.
• When you hang his clothes out to dry, you’ll be depressed because let’s face it, the last time you were able to fit into a pair of his jeans was when you were, hmm, let’s say five years old?

All in all, skinny men are pointless. If you find yourself lumbered with one, I suggest the following actions to try and 1) keep him alive, 2) make him bigger.

• Be really brutal and tell him you love his personality but his naked body scares you because you have a phobia of bones and if he wants to be with you, he needs to get his arse down the gym.
• Force him to drink protein shakes after every non sedentary activity. This includes going to the local shop to get milk. If he doesn’t comply, give him the silent treatment. Men hate that.
• When you cook for him, make sure you add lard to every meal. This may help make him get fatter. It may also block his arteries but that’s a long term issue and you probably won’t be with him then so you don’t need to worry about that.
• Get him drunk and when he passes out, inject him with steroids. Over dose him if you must. Do whatever it takes.
• Tell him that anorexia is not a joke and people who don’t know him are going to think he is taking the piss.
• Create a special chart with a reward scheme. Example: if he puts on 4 kilos in one month, he will be rewarded with five blow jobs a day for one whole week. Then you’ll see that the bastard makes a concerted effort to put on weight. Trust me, if this doesn’t work, start questioning his sexuality.

If all else fails,bin him and find a new man.

There are plenty out there that need good homes.