"But honnneeeey, I told you, we don’t NEED condoms anymore…"

Well boys and girls, it looks like the issue of birth control and who deals with it is going to take on a whole new plain with a rather novel idea that some British scientists have been working on to make things a little more equal:

Behold! The "Male Pill"!.

I heard about it all be it briefly on Blogging Baby a while back, but as I was nursing a PMT induced headache didn’t really pay it much heed, until when bored yesterday lunchtime as I scoffed down some pasta I logged onto Yahoo! UK News Message Boards and found this.

As anyone who chooses to take a browse will find out, the ensuing debate was rather florid. And as one might expect, sadly (bar one or two sensible thoughts cropping up here and there) it soon became a slanging match, men against women, and women against men. The comments ranged from defensive to downright ugly, as both accused the other of underhand tactics in the bedroom; men accusing all womankind of “deliberately lying about her fertility status (being on the pill etc) getting herself pregnant and then callously refusing to let the man in question near the result whilst at the same time demanding financial support” and womankind retorting back that “men will lie through their back teeth to get their leg over”, that “such cases of deception (among women) were minimal at best” and that “it wouldn’t happen anyway if so most guys actually bothered to wear a condom”.

…Yeah. It got a bit heated, to say the least.

My personal opinion?

Well, as a woman who knows that at least one strain of the female contraceptive pill makes her throw up copiously, it would be nice to know that even if every kind makes me react that way there might be a way when Mike and I start having…er…you know *blush*…to have a backup plan in case the unthinkable happens and we become one of the 1% of people that has a faulty condom.

So I think the idea is a good one. But I do feel that it is one that - used on its own - will only feasibly work in committed relationships where both parties know they can trust the other. I also think that no matter WHAT kind of relationship the sex takes place in, be it between a loving couple who have been together and "you know"ing for years or two people simply in the right place at the right time etc. etc., wearing a condom anyway is a wise idea simply because a) the chance of STDs is vastly reduced and b) where “trust” and preventing a baby is concerned, it’s better to be “paranoid”, as someone in the Yahoo thread put it, and use three kinds of contraceptive than to throw caution to the wind and (possibly) use none at all.

As a PERSON however, I must say that I find the underhanded and dishonest tactics used by BOTH sexes to get his or her own way as a result of an act that in my opinion should be a beautiful act of sensual and spiritual connection between two people* absolutely disgusting, ESPECIALLY when an innocent child has to suffer as a result.

Therefore! I say bring on the male pill, and advise all couples not wanting a kid to use condoms as well anyway, because after all, it only takes once, people to change someone's life for ever...

...So, better safe than sorry, eh?




* Just to clarify, I don’t have any particular so called 'moral' in inverted opinions on who or what sex those two people are, or whether they’re married. I just think that sex is something special, the giving of oneself to another, and that is what should make it beautiful.

Well, I's back

from the dead, as 'twer, and raring to go.

And I've been kicked, apparently, by Jas from Redneck Nerdboy who wants me to posty six quirky things about myself that many people don't know*. Or at least that's what I'll be doing, whether that's what I'm supposed to do or not.

What can I say? I'm a free spirited sheep.

And without further ado, here they are:

1) I eat my cereal (when I have any) dry. No milk, no sugar, nothing. Just cereal. And a spoon.
~ And if its Cheerios and I'm feeling excessively lazy, I don't even bother with the spoon.

2) Furbies freak me out. No, scratch that, they flat out SCARE me.

~ What? Hey, don't look at me like I'M the one who's crazy here: I'm telling you, those things are EEEVIIL...

3) I love the taste of tap-water.

~ And before anyone says anything, yes, I KNOW that they put lots of chemicals and shit in there. I like it anyway.

4) I'm addicted to ketchup and need a fix at least twice a week or I suffer from withdrawal.

~ Well, everyone has their vices...

5) I'm quite clever.

~ I'm also incredibly stupid, but we won't go into that.

6) I have more friends online than I do in the entierty of England.

~ Really. I'm not kidding. I do. It's about 10-4 and counting...


So, there you have it!
Six delightful facts about me that will bring warmth and light to your day.

...And stop sniggering over there in the back! It will too!

See y'all tmorrow folks (heh. "Y'all"...). Back to normal programming now, I promise.
Thanks for sticking around.

:-)




* And don't think for one second that you're gonna get away with "KICKING" me when my back is turned for a few poxy...weeks...Nerdboy, because you won't. *kicks him back. Misses. Swears. Kicks again. DIRRRECT HIT! YESSIR!* Ha! So there.

....Why yes! I AM mature! Thank you for noticing.

Dribs n drabs.

Geeze. I can't believe that yet again a whole week has gone by with only one post from me. And I set out with such good intentions...I kept meaning to log in and post, really I did, but something would distract me (not sure what...Oh wait, that was it, I'm expected to WORK...Doh! KNEW I was forgetting something....) and then I'd mean to post later, and then the next day the same would happen and so on then Boom! It's Friday.

And now I feel guilty and all because I've been neglecting my Blogging pals.

Thank God I managed to check in with the majority of you on Monday...

Anyway! Nothing of major significance has happened this week for me to talk about, but to coin the joke that by now must be getting old; when has that ever stopped me? I'll tell you about it anyway:

* I've lost 5 and a half lbs in six days so far after biting the bullet, accepting that I can't do it on my own (too greedy? Lack of willpower? Whatever the reason, I've flunked), swallowing the remnents of my pride and rejoining Slimming World. So that's going really well. Using the handily timed tax rebate (THANK YOU, Inland Revenue!) I received this month I signed up for 10 weeks in advance, and am feeling pretty confident and happy about things for the first time in a while. I'd forgotten how easy it was. The fact that I can eat as much as I need without feeling judged about portions is brilliant, and unless I want it not a salad in sight. I don't do salad. I do vegetables. Lots of. But not salad.

For the benefit of anyone suspicious who may be reading, I'm not trying to plug up more business for the club, by the way; the link is in case some of you hadn't heard of it and were worried I'd joined a cult.

...I suppose it IS a cult, really. A weight loss cult. But unlike certain cults I won't mention (*cough, cough - SCIENTOLOGY - cough, cough*) it weilds positive results, it only costs around £20 a month, and once you reach a weight target of choice if you stay within 4-5lbs of it IT'S FREE.*

- AND it doesn't promise you that if you pay the right ludicrous sum of money you'll be more powerful than Jesus. But hey, as I said, I won't be mentioning names.


* I shall be giving blood (hopefully. Please God; I know you're busy with wars and famine and other really important stuff and all, but PLEASE let me give blood today? Come on, it's no skin off your nose and anyway, it'll save a life!) tonight. We missed the last call a few weeks ago because I had a stinking cold and mum had food poisoning**, so we've been invited to this one.

I know I've whined about this before but I HATE any kind of pain, however small it may be because I'm a wimp, and therefore HATE the stab as the needle goes in, so I hope my luck continues and I get a nurse who isn't put off by the fact that I have to look away and count loudly so she can actually make the necessary steps to take the blood I'm offering for the relatively small price of a cup of blackcurrent squash and two biscuits...


* Can humans pass on their germs to dogs? I noticed it last night. He was sat patiently (or rather impatiently, but calmly) waiting for me to finish with my bowl of pasta so he could wolf down the last of the sauce and I noticed all of a sudden that his nose was running. I wiped it off with my palm, made a mental note to wash my hands, and put it out of my head. Later it happened again. And then again. And then again. Poor baby has a runny nose.

He's otherwise fine; eating well and as active as ever. And his nose is still cool and wet; it's just that right now it seems a lot wetter than usual, and it might sound paranoid, but it's worried me a little. There's nothing I can do of course, except keep an eye on him and make sure his appetite stays healthy and he remains happy and responsive, but still, it's niggling at me. I hope it doesn't develop...


* The situation with my brother has been irritating me lately. I haven't mentioned it for a while because mostly I've been letting things slide. Like the fact that all he has to do is about an hour of housework a day at his leisure and he isn't looking for a job, and the fact that when he cadges a lift off mum to somewhere he constantly makes snide comments about her driving (ok, that last one gets me. Don't like my mother's driving? Get a taxi or LEARN TO DRIVE, arsehole) - not my problem. I just try to ignore it and get on with things. But recently: oooh, I've been getting mightily annoyed.

Case point; one of the conditions of coming home was that he would keep his room, while not spotless, at least clean enough to not require backup from the environmental health offices to deal with (any regular readers will probably remember the state I described it in last time: rotten and festering carpet and mattress, clothes damp with mould, snot flicked up the walls, three cars full worth of junk for the tip...). Mum promised that she'd keep an eye and that he'd clean it at least once a week. Fine.
Then I find out that by "keeping an eye" what she meant was that she'd ask him to do it, and not check. I warned her that this wouldn't work, because without her checking he wouldn't do it. She insisted. I shrugged and waited be proved right. And I have. Around three times now. Each time we've had to make a special journey to the tip. And she STILL isn't checking. Last week his only, his ONLY chore was to deal with his room. Well, last thing Friday night he filled a few plastic bags and on Saturday they went to the tip. But he still hasn't cleaned it. And there is still junk, most of it piled under the bed. I know this because when he was out for the night last week I nipped in and had a quick look, just for personal vindication, which I got. Mum also knows this, although I didn't tell her about my 10pm spying on Sunday evening, because she has now asked him to clean it, which was the whole point and what he was given A WHOLE SEVEN DAYS to do. I have been pleading with her the past two weeks that she PLEASE just CHECK every now and again. The smell of that room hits me every time I go past if he opens the door for whatever reason, and if she DOESN'T check, things will get worse. She has been saying she'll "try" or that something will be worked out. Two days ago (when I noticed the "please finish cleaning your bedroom" note) I confronted her and asked her once more to actually make sure he was doing as he'd agreed. She got angry and said it wasn't worth the "rows" it would cause if she did. Then I got angry and snapped "well, why the hell do you ASK him to do it then? What's the point?"

That stumped her. After a few minutes silence she gave me her stock "because I'm hoping that he'll do it of his own accord and that I'll be able to trust him to keep his word". To which I made a scornful noise, and left it.

I've left it ever since. I don't know why it's upsetting me so much; I've managed to let everything else that happens just ride over me, but this has been really grating for some time.
Maybe because it epitomises everything he stands for, and everything he gets away with because it isn't WORTH making him do it and putting up with the tantrums and rows.

Anyway! It feels good to be able to let it all out...


* To lighen the mood, this is hilarious!


* Did I mention that I lost FIVE AND A HALF lbs??
Just thought you should know.


* Also available for viewing this week, something gross rather than hilarious that makes you (or at least me) blink in wonderment and think 'WHOA! Is this fake? This HAS to be fake, right??'


* I have started to prepare for Christmas. I know what I'm getting Mike and the first half of Bingo's present has already been dealt with (...yes, I buy a Christmas present for my dog. ...AND??), and they're the only ones who are getting one, so; nearly sorted. Yay!***

* Well, lunchtime's over, folks, so that's your lot, and to quote two rather amicable goofballs who travelled back and forth in time in a phonebox:

HAVE A BODACIOUS WEEKEND, DUDES!

* In case you're wondering what happens if you gain more than 4lbs and go off target - and no, you don't explode before anyone asks - you simply pay the normal fee of £4.15 each week until you're within the accepted range, after which it's free again. And so the story goes on...

** We've finally got the blood test results back. It was salmonella. There have been a rash of cases in England recently, we've found out, caused so some experts are now saying by eggs imported from somewhere abroad. Not sure where from exactly, but after the nearly two weeks of hell my mother suffered I reckon we'll be eating Lion Brand (British only) from now on just to be on the safe side.

*** I'm not being stingy and mean, just so you know. We don't "do" presents in our family now we're all grown up because if you take in to account just the ones who live in Kidderminser there are 12 of us I don't buy my friends one either (although I'll probably buy them a drink or two out nearer to the time). We give "a card and a kiss" as my mother puts it, and concentrate on eating, drinking, having fun and enjoying one another's company, which I feel is a very good philosophy, don't y'all?

- Heh. "Y'all"...

We're so immature, Part 1*

DAVID ATTENBOROUGH: and over on the wild plains of Alaska we see yet another migrating animal: the "Wild Alaskan White/Brown Ass"**...

US: *hysterical laughter*


...Enough said.




* I could have mentioned all the brilliantly witty comments such as "stop acting like an ASS" and "God, my ASS is tired" and "think I'll go catch myself some fine white ass" and "hey, quit kicking my ass!" that we came out with for about half hour afterwards, but I figured it probably wouldn't help improve our image that much....

** And in case you were wondering; ASS, to the English, is a kind of mule, also known as a donkey.

- Just goes to shows how Americanized us Brits are getting, huh?

Know what sucks?

After having several weeks of being busy but able to go at my own pace having a boss that is suddenly HERE, and not only here, but in and out talking to us here, so I can't Blog, or Blog surf, or comment, or anything.

And having to go to town for one thing or another EVERY lunchtime so I can't Blog then.

And not being able to see Mike ALL week.

And having some woman snipe at me about my "big and rough" dog. AGAIN. Despite the fact that hers was bigger. And rougher. And more disobedient. And the fact that they both had the time of their lives.

Oh, and the fact that my period has punched me in the face (literally. With all the tiredness and the moodswings and the clumsiness and the preoccupation with my aching boobs I walked into a door) yet again after seeimingly only five seconds, and I know that it isn't really five seconds, but I have cramps and sore boobs and a mild headache and my boss is here so I actually have to WORK, rather than ease my suffering by surfing Blogs...


...That sucks too.

Because so far today I've got nuthin' -

- I thought I'd recount a little IM conversation I just had with Redneck Nerdboy.
You know.
Just so your lives today are complete.

Alice: Hello. :-)
*waves*

Jas: Hello!!!
How was your weekend, huh?

Alice: Great. I got to lie in till 7:30am! Seriously! Great, great experience.

Jas: Isn't that the best!
I love to sleep in. Unfortunately with a child, it doesn't happen.

Alice: I figured it wouldn't. That's why I knew you would get it when I enthused about lying in for a WHOLE HOUR AND A HALF. Most people sort of stare at me. ("7:30am? On a Saturday? THAT'S a lie in to you? Jesus.") ....First Slimming World meeting in 2 years tonight. Russell (the group consultant) was very nice when I rang him to double check the time. Dreading what it'll say on the scales. But it'll be the first step in the journey, right?

Jas: Honey, if it's embarrassing to you, just remember you'll be surrounded by people who are also dreading what it'll say on the scales. Don't fret. Just get 'er done!

Alice: I know, and shall. We'll all be in the same boat, which is comforting. Nobody ever joins a slimming club to GAIN weight, as far as I know. ...But...Well, is it evil to hope that there is at least one person there who is WAY fatter than I am?

Jas: Not evil. Thus far you have not joined the darkside, my young jedi.

Alice: Good-oh. So, what would I have to do (hypothetically speaking. I don't actually want to join)? Sacrifice a goat? Screw a dog (Erk. Bad mental images, bad mental images...)? Listen to West Life?

Jas: To join the darkside? Erm... no. It's much more simple than that. First of all you'd need to wipe a sasquatch's bottom with an alcohol wipe, then leap from the crest of a canyon with naught but a robe and bottle of lotion. Theeeen you'd need to contact Scotland Yard using a cross threshed laser and bounce it off three satellites and give them the codeword FUQUE EWE!It's almost too easy.

Alice: God, I love you.
:-)

Jas: Just keepin' it real honey.

Alice: Can I copy n' paste this conversation? It'd make a kick ass Blog post.

Jas: Please do. And remember... it self destructs in one secon... >BOOM!!!< Alice: Ha! smiles So, to make this last a while longer (because we can); what's your opinion on mobile phones?
Ann & I were talkin' about them earlier*. She agrees with my opinion.

Jas: Mobile phones suck pulsating moose co... um... appendages.
What's your opinion, then?

Alice: Yup. That was about it.

Jas: Gotcha.

Alice: Well, I can see their uses. But for God's sake, what's with all the crap you get now?

Jas: Lemmie tell you something about mobile phones. And you and Ann might agree. The only thing they're good for is for emergency "Get me the @#$% out of here!" use when stranded on the freeway with a broken down car and several hundred zombie like humanoids with brain-hunger slowly making their way toward you from all directions. Otherwise, there is no reason for mobile phones to exist. Seriously.
Of course, playing Tetris on them is kinda cool when you're waiting at the train station.

Alice: Playing what?

Jas: But other than THAT... there is no reason for mobile phones to exist. Seriously.
Tetris.
You've never heard of Tetris????

Alice: Nope. Explain.

Jas: [Jas falling over in shock]

Alice: Ok. When you get back up explain.

Jas: Hm...
It's like... hundreds of tiny misshapen blocks falling and you have the task of arranging them so that they not only are organized, but that they are quite so, so that an entire row will be filled with them... upon which time the entire row then disappears and you have that row to fill again. With me so far?
Then you do this over and over and over and over and over until the game gets faster and faster and faster and faster and faster...
[huff huff huff] And THEEEEN... no wait, actually, that's it.

Alice: Uh-huh? Well, aint knowledge a wonderful thing?

Jas: Kinda stupid when you think about it like that.
Oh well!
In that case... Mobile phones just suck.

Alice: Hey don't knock it. I hate mobiles but I'm addicted to texting.

Jas: No you're not.
I refuse to sit here reading this text and abide that you are addicted to texting!

Alice: Oh sweet irony... ;-)
I'm also addicted to ketchup.

Jas: Dear God woman! I must call the authorities at once! You are a danger to yourself and those around you!
Ketchup causes brain damage. [Jas smiles oddly for five full minutes]

Alice: [Alice smiles back oddly for 10 full minutes]....Sorry, what?

Jas: What? What? I'm not sure who I am right now.

Alice: Me either. I think I'll call you....Barry.
Barry sounds like a good name.
...Wait, not sure who I am, either.

Jas: And you shall be Bonequesha.

Alice: Bonequesha?

Jas: Yes. You remind me of a Bonequesha.

Alice: Ah. Ok then. Hi Barry.

Jas: Hi Bonequesha. How are you?

Alice: Great.
Just so you know? When the ketchup induced amnesia wears off, I'll totally be Blogging this bit, too.

Jas: You will?

Alice: Yup.

Because I think, you know, that it shows us both in a really good light.

Barry and Bonequesha: a pair of mobile hating, ketchup guzzling,sugar damaged freaks.
That's us.

Jas: Hm... Don't tell 'em anything about my crazy coffee habit. K?
:)

Alice: K…


...So there you have it. And just so you know, that conversation actually happened, and yes, we really ARE that weird.

Thankyou, and goodnight.


* To quote and immortalise forever a rather brilliant sentence penned by Ann when I irritably asked "who the hell uses the Internet on their mobile anyway?":

"Oh, there are people who use the internet on their phone. They're the people that don't have a life".

ZING!

And apologies, Ann, if I've not quoted it with complete accuracy; like an idiot I closed our IM chat before Copy N Pasting the bit I needed.
Clever me...

Guess you guys'll want to be hearing about my oh so fun Halloween, huh?

Well, you can't. Simply because I didn't have a Halloween that was fun or otherwise.

Nothing happened.

That's right: nothing.

Now, on my estate we tend to be pretty lucky regarding Halloween.

Yes, you read right. After all my ranting and raving, on one of the most horrible places on civilised earth regarding people, we tend to not have any trouble on 31st October. We get Trick Or Treaters (at least half withOUT costume) from around mid September up till around Mid November, but we don't generally get the stuff I mentioned in my last post, mostly due to the fact that a) we don't answer the door, and b) we don't have anything worth the effort of making our lives a misery till we do...BUT, as this isn't the case in many parts of the country I will stand firm regarding the accurateness of my earlier ranting.

(Accurateness? Accuratenes? Acurateness? Damnit. Haven't a clue. Pick whichever takes your fancy and move on.)

So, bar two gouls (meaning they were dressed as gouls, not that they were. Or they could've been. No idea who they were) I stupidly opened the door to last Thursday who quickly retreated when they saw me holding a straining dog - he was friendly, but they weren't to know that - we didn't get so much as a solitary knock.

And, damnit, that pissed me off!

I wanted to serve tea to a couple of ghosts and talk about what Halloween was like in their day. I wanted a witch to arrive so I could ask her the age old question - how DO you stay comfortable riding a broom, and in case of an emergency, are there any flying alternatives you like to use? - and finally get an answer. I wanted to be able to post that the door didn't stop hammering till close on midnight and that my boyfriend and I had fun hurling missiles in the shape of water balloons and paint filled pumpkins at the little bastards yelling and chucking eggs and rocks at our house. I wanted to make a giant poster to hang out of the window every time someone knocked the door with something like "Plague carriers inside: DON'T TOUCH THE DOOR". I wanted to open the door once or twice covered in what looked like blood holding a large carving knife and scare the shit out of a brat or two by smiling insanely and saying "Trick or treaters? Sure! Come in! Come in! We LOVE kids! *over shoulder* Honey? fire up the grill; two more've just arrived..."

- Can ya tell how great a parent I'd make?

But seriously. I wanted SOMETHING to happen. I wanted something funny, or scary, or weird, or wonderful that I could Blog about.

And instead all you've got is me, complaining, about all the stuff I *wanted* to happen.

What a waste of a supernatural day. What a God damn almighty waste...