Friday, 27 February 2015

Dicks

I'm surprised at the lack of discussion from males about the unfairness of their portion of the genital parts.  The female form is admired and desired by both sexes whereas the exposure of manly genitals is met with shrieks of horror and maybe a phone call to the police.  While women have a loud voice about finding comfort with their bodies and not being judged, assaulted or abused, the men are sitting in defeated content with their ugly dick in their mournful hands. 
What caused this horrendous disparity and why?  Why are men's parts the spider of the genital world?

I've never heard a peep out of any man about his dissatisfaction with his penis, despite the fact that the appendage he's attached to needs to be kept tucked snuggly away lest it cause offence. Even though the desire with which many men seem to hold for female nudity is not reciprocated, the majority of men seem to loyally stand by the size and power of their shameful tool.  This display of confidence is applaudable because unlike the accidental or purposeful exposure of say breasts (which would likely be met with pure joy and appreciation) the exposure of penis would likely be met with angry looks and sounds, disgust, fear and admonishment.  'Put it away you dirty disgusting penis owning man'!!! And yet there is no complaint about the control of their sexuality and how awful it is to be judged should they expose this beautiful part of their body in public.  Those humble men are just quietly taking it in their strides.  Well, why can't those things should look like puppies, then we would welcome their exposure with shrieks of joy and bundles of kisses, we could stare at their crutches just hoping to catch a tiny glimpse, and wonder about what our friends husband's one looked like and if we could possibly touch it.

puppy penis
There would be  many economic advantages to the puppy penis too!  Think of all the fashion opportunities.  Low cut pants so that we can see a tantalising piece of the penis puppy shape,  the fashion shows, the accessories, the puppy care rituals.  Imagine the awards ceremonies like the Oscars.  The guys fashion would be at the forefront, full camera pans of the body with a lingering on the crotch area and fierce competition to see which guy will push his puppy exposure to the extreme...  Lipstick advertisements would feature the man with the sexiest looking puppy penis draped tantalizingly on the glossy lips of the appreciative model.

The health advantages too would be exceptional.  Special clothing would be made so that the puppy member was held in just the right way to ensure optimal health, and maybe even to ensure a better overall look when clothed.  Men wouldn't need to check their bone for any blemishes, women would be more than happy to inspect them up close.  Watching TV would allow the perfect time to release it from its clothing kennel and stroke the friendly, eager dick puppy, and massage its delectable balls.  Ad campaigns to ensure each man was comfortable with his pants dweller would be funded by companies owned by women that know just what men want for their prickly pup.

There could be a downside though.  How could women possibly concentrate at work if a man did not conceal his porky pup properly?  Should they be allowed to go to work with one of those not properly restrained?  And what if the man was getting sexually harassed at work by some out of control woman who kept "accidentally" walking into the toilet at inappropriate times and constantly staring at the na├»ve mans crotch while he was trying to pursue a professional conversation.  Girls will be girls I suppose and how can they be expected to contain their delight when there is such a cute creature around.  Strip clubs could curb the desire to a degree.  At least then the men that wanted to could get paid to show what they've got and women wouldn't have to succumb to the desire to harass those men that aren't as eager.  Business meetings could be had there and over a long lunch and after a few drinks from pant less waiters the deal could be sealed with a private lap dance.  Men could attend the meeting too, women would learn to respect them even though they are at work with a penis.

Though women would love the puppy penis and men would love all the attention it got there would be good times and bad times.  Valentines day would be an eager display of products to decorate man's best friend but it would pay to be careful not to get a size too big- imagine what that message could convey?  And perhaps men would sometimes like more affection and conversation instead of all the attention being given to the cock pup.   A picnic in a nice location, along with some loving hugs should have him happily releasing the hound as well as feeling loved and valued himself. 
However, if the man had a really impressive pound puppy and other females were exhibiting too much interest, a quiet word with the man about being more modest could be in order.  A faithful man would downplay his assets  so as to appease his spouse, the women can't help being interested if he's put it out there.  Playing with his own proud puppy would not be disgusting- in fact it would be delightful to women to see him so eager to play with their favourite thing too.  A really open man would happily look at magazines of other men playing with theirs too so that together with his woman they could really enjoy the male form.  Better still allowing his partner to take photos of the puppy penis in all sorts of different poses would really satisfy their growling desire.

Alas, it is not so.  Men have the spider of the genital world nesting in their hairy pants.  Other ways must be found to entice the weary woman.  Money, charisma, good looks, amazing sporting feats etc.  Unfortunately no one wants to see them wave it around at protests, or cuddling up with their mates provocatively holding each others pink slug.  Spare a thought for the rejected genital next time you see it and before you start shuddering...

Monday, 2 February 2015

What is my name?

Recently I was thinking about using a pseudonym for my writing name and it lead me to experiencing a disturbing epiphany. There isn't a name I could choose from my family that would relate to the women in my ancestry, not one that actually belongs to a woman!  Take a moment to consider that truth...any name you choose will belong to the man that last "owned" that woman.  You may be thinking that I am a stupid raging feminist by now, you're probably thinking: "you can keep your maiden name if you want" or " I kept my name when we got married", but consider this- if you keep your maiden name your are simply keeping the name of your Father, face it- surnames are man tags.   

Your surname most likely doesn't relate to your mothers ancestral line since matrilineal surnames are not very common.  Your surname is most likely to be your Fathers surname, your mother had her fathers surname, until she got married and took your fathers surname or continued to keep her original surname.  You'll either keep your Father's surname or if you are a woman and you marry chances are high that you'll take the name of your husband.  So, to summarise- if you are a man you will most likely inherit your fathers name upon your birth, keep that name throughout your life and eventually pass that on to your children- awesome.  Solid ideas about where you come from, great for tracking genealogy, strong sense of identity.  If you are a woman, you will most likely be born with your fathers name, take the name of your husband upon marriage and your name will not be passed on to any of your children.  No fucking idea where you're from, difficulty tracking genealogy, feeling like you have a slave name! This bothers me- who am I?  Who were my foremothers? Where is my sense of pride and belonging to a long line of women way back into the past?

When I got married I willingly and happily took my husbands name.  There was absolutely no expectation from him that I should, but it was important to me that our future family be unified with one name.  I came from a broken home and knew what it was like to not share the same last name, and the difficulties with my parents divorce meant that I also felt a sense of shame about my Father's name and just wanted to be rid of it.   This is not a sob story segment about my childhood, I'm just framing up my reasons for leaping into taking the next man name on offer. For more reasons on why women choose to take or not to take their husbands names this article covers a few of these things as well as the writers own view on  changing names which is limited to keeping her maiden name and not the concern about her foremothers names.   Very infrequently is it considered that a man will take his wife's name upon marriage (although this man came up with a new and interesting solution with his wife which worked for them).  This would be seen as somewhat effeminate and almost traitorous to this man's proud name.  In saying that I must say that my husband claims that if I had wanted to keep my name he would happily have changed his name to mine(hero).  You see, the reasons that people choose to change their names to their husbands name is not really because men are forcing us to(although 50% of Americans believe that women entering heterosexual marriages should be legally required to take their husbands names), or owning us anymore- it's just an accepted social convention.  And, what makes this convention even easier to continue is that women's last names are so transient, usually only lasting for part of their lifetime, as well as the shocking truth that there are no women's surnames!!!! Fortunately the UN has a convention about women's last names- In 1979, the United Nations adopted the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women ("CEDAW") which declared in effect that women and men, and specifically wife and husband, shall have the same rights to choose a "family name", as well as a "profession" and an "occupation".

My husband and his male family members use their family name with pride, even getting tattoo's with the family shield on it, their family name that they can trace way back to a place and time in England emblazoned proudly on their skin.  I have been bewildered by this seemingly arrogant sense of family patriotism, what were they doing, why are they so proud?  The answer to that question at the time seemed like it was just maybe testosterone, maybe just what guys do- they're so childish, but now after this epiphany I totally get it!!! Yes- fuck yes!!! What a celebration it would be if I was together with my womenfolk and we had our ancestral women family name tattooed on us and could celebrate this long line of women before us back to a place and time in the world and we could see the children that we grew in our ripe distended bellies carrying our name into the future.  The pride of having our children carry our names into the future and looking back upon us with pride too.  The thought of it is so potent and dizzying, I can't believe I've been missing out on it.  

And what sort of names would womenfolk have?  Well many of the surnames we see and hear today have very traditional meaningful roots.  Think of names like Smith or Cooper that actually relate back to a profession.  Once again awesome identity right back to your roots.  Of course some names are more prestigious than others and surely that would be the same for women's last names- let's not let this fantasy get out of control.  So here's some ideas of what our women's names would have been and could be- Maid, Whore, Barmaid, Nurse, Belle(beauty is always important), Washer, Cook, Seamstress now lets get modern: Architect, Engineer, Editor, Model, Athlete, Celebrity.  But these just relate to occupations which not all names do, some relate to places so: New York, Paris, London, Fiji, oh the possibilities.  Now lets just go for some shit hot, really cool last names just to be indulgent: Coco, Chanel, Ruby, Diamond, Jewel, Fashion, Beauty, Bliss, Cleopatra, of Arc, Coven, Love, Mankiller(oh I lol), Mantrap, Manhater...I'm really getting on a roll now. And what of the associated professions.  I come from a long line of...Rugby players, Farmers, Teachers.  What do I come from a long line of? Warrior Women, Midwives, Healers, Cooks, Seamstresses...?   Truth is it's bloody exhilarating thinking about having an actual name to follow through time though I guess Rachel Whore would be hard to swallow- excuse the pun!

So, I got to thinking.  What name would I choose for myself, what did I have that I owned, that was just for me, that secured me to some womenfolk in my family.  The answer to this question was swift and simple.  I would choose the names my Mother gave me- Rachel Joy(Joy is my middle name).  The reason this choice was simple is that there is a beautiful family connection in this name.  My Nana on my Mums side had this as her first name, my Mum has it as her middle name, and my eldest daughter also has it as her middle name.  If we were all to change our middle names to our last names we would share a name over several generations and that would be so sweet and wonderful.  We would be the 'Joy Family' and I might even be tempted to get that tattooed on my skin and celebrate loud and proud with my women! We are the Joys, we claim this name as ours for our women- hear us ROAR!!!!!!  And maybe bring some joy...