‘Bruv! last night I pissed in the mouth of a bird with a Nazi Reichstag chest tattoo’. That was the text I had sent to Meddler 3 years ago that acted as the catalyst for this blog. Humored by the tale she suggested I should write about my sexcapades and after a lot of well received reviews from my Facebook friends I got a bit carried away with it and now after 3 years it’s got me shags, lost me job opportunities, pissed some people off, made some people laugh and even had me referred to as ‘that sex writer guy’ at a couple of parties – which I don’t really like. I thought seeing as people who are not just my friends apparently enjoy it (I seem to have a bit of a following in Germany and Australia) I thought why not smarten the place up a bit and turn it into a full blown website and see where it leads me?
To polish things up a little bit I’ve been touching up all my previous entries, which has been taxing in a sense that it’s been like listening to recordings of my own voice over and over again. Although what has been interesting is seeing how in that short time quite a lot of my views have changed and also how easy it is to forget certain situations I got myself into over the years. So I suppose if you’ve stumbled across this site by accident, or if it was recommended it by a friend or if you are one of my regulars who read and praise every bit of drivel I release then this is another in the ‘Women’ series of entries. They always seem to get a good reception. So hopefully this will be a perfect opportunity for you new comers to see how I try to convey a particular message in a long, overblown stream of conscious, but illustrate it in such an uneven and poorly structured way yet still somehow manage to get away with it…. I hope. But weather you’re a life long fan or new comer, please be gentle with me on the subject of this new one…. I’ve done anything like this before.
So my romantic history since starting this is as follows. Back in 2013 when I started writing this I was still on the tail end of getting over a messy situation with a bird where I tried a bit too hard to make something work that I never really wanted to happen in the first place. It failed of course and there was an inevitable fall out. I touch on it a bit in my first Women entry. Some time later we had an evening together and spoke about that period again and was finally able to give it the final coroners report and put the whole subject to bed, drew a line under it and mutually decided to forget about it. We agreed that we were both at fault for some things but no real hard feelings at the end of the day. Regardless I still do look back on the ordeal and think ‘bloody hell what did I do that for?’ It is just one of many regrets.
Fuck all happened in a romantic capacity for me until a couple of years later when another bird came along and typically I took a complete opposite stance where I took a back seat and put absolutely no effort in whatsoever in a situation where I would have been interested to have seen what might have cropped up if I’d have only just sewn some seeds. I talk about that in depth in Women III which incidentally is probably the entry that I am most proud of.
And as you will have probably have guessed. Fuck all has happened to me on a romantic level since then. What’s even more depressing about that last experience is that there was never actually anything ever resembling romance about it. Infact as regular readers will know, I’ve never had anything resembling a love life to write about. But I try not to let it get me down.
I now shake those two experiences of as merely footnotes in my book of life & love and everything else. (Release date 23/02/2020 by the way) I stopped processing the whys and what if’s of each situation a while back and when I reflect on them now they feel like a thousand years ago. But what I’m haphazardly trying to channel my way onto here is how my experiences have affected my situation with love, as well as my views on feminism and patriarchal society.
From reading previous entries I realise now just how toxic my opinion of women was; I would really stew on all the birds that had fucked me over in some way. Really make a mountain out of the molehills that were the things that annoyed me about women. To be honest although not much has changed in a sense that I still do have a load of trust issues when it comes to birds – a position that I still make no apologies for. I will now say that in the last year at least I certainly have a much clearer understanding on the inequalities between men and women as well as empathy for the injustices and harassments that women face in day-to-day situations. This all developed about a year ago when a friend leant me a book on feminism. I thought In the interest of tactics it be wise to research my enemy and then in doing so I ended up going native, read further, went to a couple of events and now to all intents and purposes am most definitely a feminist. Although you’ll never hear me say that aloud. Not just because I feel my masculine persona will be in some way compromised by such admission but more so because I hate labels. Especially when they relate to something where making a statement on such a choice is so pointless. For instance I find that saying you’re anti-facist or anti-homophobic is a bit like saying ‘I drink water’ or ‘I sleep when I’m tired’ of course you do. You’re a human being and that’s what human beings do, you don’t have to announce it. But anyway I digress…
So to give you a reason as to why a self confessed, unashamed and relatively well experienced pervert who is quite out going, fairly confident in his physical appearance and happy with his personality would have failed to stumble into love at a stage in life where he is now closer to his 30’s then his teens. Would be a mix of the simple equation of not really meeting the right people, to finding that a lot of the people I do get to know unfortunately prove themselves to be just a bit shit.
Also it’s important to note that I’m not a womaniser. Never have been. During the halcyon days of my late teens and early 20’s where I would range between 1-4 birds on the go at any given time this was more a result of just managing to click with these people very quickly. I did put some effort in don’t get me wrong. Moves were made, tactics thoughts out and suggestive lines dropped. That being said I never did and never have gone too out of my way. I’m not soppy or wet in anyway and due to my aforementioned trust issues am very cautious to put a lot of effort into a bird just incase they like the others just end up betraying me in some way.
I’m not the kind of bloke to go out on the pull. I find the culture of getting yourself dressed up and going out with the soul reason of finding birds to fuck really vulgar. But then on the off chance that I do see a bit crumpet at a pub, club or party I am always stuck with the anxiety that she is probably just hear to relax with friends and has probably just had to shoo away a host of other lecherous perverts before me so I’m sure she has absolutely no interest in my banal small talk. Same rules apply for when I do get friendly with a girl and regardless of whether I am trying to seduce them or not I am nearly always thinking ‘where does she think I’m going with this? I hope she doesn’t think I’m being overly friendly because I want to fuck her’ These anxieties are of course no fault of the women themselves, but because a select amount of men still persist on fucking it up for the rest of us. And personally I don’t want to be tarred with the same brush as these cunts, and as a result my methods of seducing women is very coy. Coy to the point of gormless and I don’t think that’s particularly attractive.
Now I don’t know about the rest of you, but I personally hate people in general. Not entirely in a sociopathic murderer kind of way but more in a stereotypical inconsiderate, unfriendly Londoner kind of way… It’s what 6 years in the service industry will do to you. But I could not imagine what it must be like to walk down the street only to have complete strangers heckle you from cars, weirdo’s try and ask for your number at the bus stop, creepy mother fuckers eying you up a the gym and as my housemate has experienced a couple of times over the last month – being straight up followed home. If I just had to expect and accept that as part of daily life like so many women do it would probably be enough for me to go postal.
I’m sure we’ve all been witness and turned a blind eye to those creepy cunts in a pub who will try their chances at a table where a couple of birds may be sitting trying to enjoy a pleasant drink and catch up in private. Or some other desperate prick who will not leave your mate alone on the dance floor of a club til the point where you are left wanting to scream at them ‘Bruv! You are begging this bird! Take a fucking look at yourself’
What does always get me wondering is where do these men find the drive to keep their pursuits up. How do they think that going about this way is just ok? I dunno about any of you but when the knock out blow of rejection strikes me down I completely dissolve for a few months. Cant even face the thought of polite conversation with another bird until the previous demon has stopped haunting me. These geezers who just face rejections and ‘fuck offs’ on a daily basis must either self esteem made of steel or just absolutely no dignity whatsoever. What I’d also like to know, is does it ever actually work? What’s the statistic of women who do go and sit on the face of the van driver who’s just shouted the request at them whilst they are on their way home from work with their shopping in their hand? How many relationships are formed when the greasy cunt in the street follows a bird half way home pleading for her to give him her number?
Now I aint no angel. I can wax lyrical about how this feral approach to attracting the opposite sex is obviously coarse and disgusting but I’ve done stupid shit that I regret whilst pissed or on drugs… Intoxication is not an excuse of course. And thinking about those experiences have had me wanting smash my head against the wall or even have me muttering ‘fucking idiot’ whenever they blindside me unannounced occasionally. So I guess we all have it in us to act like cunts from time to time but that doesn’t mean the problem aint an actual issue.
Another problem on my part and society in general is that I never challenge the behavior. I remember being sat in the bar of a restaurant with my brother when a bird walked passed and he said loud enough for her to here ‘Yea wouldn’t mind a bit of that’. Her reaction being that of disgust and embarrassment of course. The poor cunt was probably just trying to enjoy a Sunday lunch at The Harvester with her family… But I didn’t say anything. When I’m at gigs or raves and some friends have to literally tell men to fuck off and leave them alone. I do nothing. At best I may just step in and dance with them in an attempt to give the geezer the idea, but even that’s pretty cowardly. We have a duty as friends at least to challenge other men when it comes to this degrading, imposing and downright weird behaviour. Not that I’m saying we should stop telling dirty jokes, or have a blanket ban on admiring up the assets of the barmaid as long as it’s in private between friends. I’m sure birds chat the same about fella’s amongst themselves all the time. I’m not that much of a wet, lefty wanker to believe we shouldn’t talk about women we’d like to fuck. As long as it stays relatively above board I cant see why this sort of behaviour cant continue in it’s controlled boundaries behind closed doors. I don’t believe in censorship.
But what I believe this behaviour stems from is simply the patriarchal society we’ve all been brought up and has engrained certain behaviours and patterns as the norm. From the moment the boy is born he is bought blue clothes because that’s what boys wear, for his 7th birthday his uncle buys him a gun and some toy soldiers – because that’s what boys like. Reaches 10 years old and he is persuaded to join the school football team whilst his sister is bought dancing shoes for her ballet classes. As the end of high school approaches he wants to be a mechanic or a plumber unless he gets the grades to go on and work in he city as a stockbroker. O and on the weekends he must always chase after birds, failure to shag or a net a bird is not acceptable amongst his mates. Because that’s what men do, we shag birds. And when he does find a woman and that fails or runs its course and the bird he likes dumps him. Always remember that boys don’t cry. Just bite that top lip and get on with it, just like his old man taught him, and his old man taught him before that.
Now I aint going to try and to give you the tonic to the inequalities of society, but I don’t think I’m the only one who finds seduction to be an anxiety because of the dick heads around us. Yea I love shagging birds. It’s the best activity that can be done for free, I’ve said this so many times before. And when I look back at the majority of birds I’ve bedded I’ve done it through a lucrative combination of talking about shared interests, witty jokes and tasteful compliments. Now don’t get me wrong this plan aint anywhere near full proof, it has lead me to many friend zones and missed opportunities and that’s because I didn’t want to come across as all those other cunts who just make women feel uncomfortable and invaluable. I even have to ponder whether a friendly smile to a pretty bird in the street is in someway problematic – it surely aint, but I do wonder about these things sometimes.
My initial solution is what I already mentioned really. Challenge this way of thinking. Make it so it’s not just accepted that women in short skirts or otherwise have automatically made themselves targets to be hit on. If we started with something simple like pulling our mates up when it comes to them using shit chat up lines they’ve clearly lifted from The Viz on barmaids or supermarket cashiers who are only trying to do their jobs. Then maybe the idea that cold calling random birds with lecherous advances is actually a bit out of order and probably aint the way to get laid and in doing so it’s affecting all of us. Stop seeing birds as just a thing to fuck, there’s usually a lot more going on there that you may be interested in. I have trust issues with women because of the way they have treated me in the past. Don’t you reckon the reason women have a lot of issues with men is because the way the majority of us have treated them for generations? If we changed our tactics of seduction to something as simple as not being a ghoulish bastard with no sense of personal boundries maybe we could all be fucking each other more. If we make life better for birds, we will make it better for blokes as well. COME ON LADS SOOOORRTTTT IT OUT!
But despite my sudden awareness for female issues and the feminist cause. Dont think I cant pick fault in it. Some of the views from some renowned feminist writers and intellects I have found quite problematic offensive. Especially some of the views I have read regarding sex work and this opinion that what they are doing is degrading and objectifies women as a whole. I find such a generlisation to be condescending and vicious and does absolutely nothing to support these women who are working a job that has very little support from other people. I think it was the actress Lena Durham who said that decriminalisation of sex work was not an answer – although I may be misquoting. But the problem I find with that is that she is just another privileged white girl who happens to have a very high soap box, and other young women will take on board such views. Personally I have a bit of problem with those at the top end of privileged society. Granted I whole heartedly accept that as a white, British male I am one of the most privileged people in the world by a long way. However I struggle to be lectured as such from people who ARE more privileged then I am. I remember one posh bird lecturing me on my privilege once, but then in another breath telling me how her old man paid her rent and her mother was able to get her a paid art internship. She was even due to inherit one of her galleries one day. Ok in the grand scheme of things I am well off… But being lectured by someone who’s accommodation is paid for and their carrier mapped out of them is never going to gain my interest…
Also I have previously been pulled up on the dialect that I use. My use of the word ‘bird’ or the pro noun of ‘love’ or ‘darling’ when talking to a woman is apparently meant to be offensive…. No it’s not. I am from London, this is how we speak. It is a friendly gesture and I am not trying to belittle you with such talk. The very fact that there are so many genuinely serious female issues such as human trafficking, FGM, domestic abuse and forced child marriages in the world and you are having a go at me for the way I talk is absured. When a movement has reached a point where friendly gestures are deemed problematic then it needs to have a good hard look at itself. If you dont like me calling you ‘babe’ ‘sweetheart’ or ‘gorgeous’ maybe you’d preffer ‘cunt’, ‘twat’ or ‘dickhead’…. Because thats the only alternative I’m willing to give you. In my mind of course. I am far too polite in reality.
Play me out Mozzer…