Skip to main content

Comic Relief

For your own amusement, this article in the Daily Mail (UK) today is guarenteed to make you laugh:

Why the guys just can't resist my squishy bits
By ANNE SHOOTER


Proud of her body: Anne Shooter fits the figure of Miss Average
Women who are curvy all know about a very special cream. It keeps them looking young, feeling happy, and makes them irresistible to the opposite sex. Not only that, but it costs just a few pounds for a huge tub. It's name? Ice cream.
You see, the truth is that men like women who eat and have the curves to show it - and we curvy women know that men prefer us like that.
I am just about spot-on the vital statistics of the Miss Average who was identified in a new survey as being the dream woman for most men: 5ft 4in tall, a size 14 with a waist that hovers around 30in, rounded hips and a 36DD bust.
And you know what? I've never had any complaints from men about my looks. Far from it.
In fact, men have only ever commented positively about my eyes, smile, skin and breasts (obviously - they're only men, after all). But no man has ever called me fat.
In fact, when I have ever lamented my rather generous proportions, they have only ever given my bottom a good squeeze and told me not to be ridiculous.
The thing is, men can't help loving well-rounded women - those curves are a sign of fertility and they are genetically drawn to them because they signal that we will successfully conceive, carry and then nurture their offspring.
And quite frankly, who can blame them? I wouldn't want a load of elbows and ribs to cuddle in bed either. The squishy bits are way more fun.
The only people ever to have made unpleasant comments about my size are other women.
I've been told clothes are unflattering, asked whether I have considered trying the latest diet, and was recently asked if I have given up running while being looked up and down disparagingly.
And that's the nub of the matter. Thin women are skinny for other women - not for men.
They are skinny not to be sexy, but to be fashionable. They want to show other women they are controlled, cool, better in some way than the fatter, normal women around them.
I remember being in an Italian restaurant with a group of spectacularly skinny women once, and ordering a martini with olives to kick off proceedings.
As I went to pop the olives into my mouth, one of the skinny women said: 'Oh, are you not eating dinner?'
I was flabbergasted - but of course I ate the olives, and then went on to enjoy a delicious bowl of pasta while she picked miserably at a piece of grilled fish with steamed spinach.

Ditch the diet: Women who aren't hung up about what they eat are more attractive, says Anne
By the end of the evening, her boyfriend was feeding me mouthfuls of his tiramisu.
Simply put, a man does not want to be with a woman who puts her hand over her wine glass when offered a top-up because she's had her calorie allowance for the day.
He wants to be with someone fun, someone he can have a great night out with - and then take home for some more fun.
The very last thing he wants is someone too controlled and self-obsessed. He wants her to lose control - and be obsessed with him, not herself.
I am not talking about totally letting it go and becoming overweight and unhealthy - just about being an attractively rounded woman.
We 'average' women really do have better skin, too (of all the people I have ever met, Dawn French has the most incredibly, smooth, line-free skin) and men often comment on my lack of wrinkles when they hear I am 38 (and no, I haven't had - and will never have - Botox).
When women are skinny they lose their natural, voluptuous lustre, and their skin and hair suffer for it.
My curves are proof that my body is healthy - they are the result of producing two gorgeous children.
And it's not as if I'm totally out of shape. Actually, my body is fairly firm from the odd gym session and jog round the block and - without meaning to sound arrogant - I am rather proud of it.
I think of my curves as a sign that I am a good cook and take care of my family. (There's nothing maternal or nurturing about a skinny woman.)
My figure shows I'm lucky enough to enjoy a wonderful life, that I'm unpretentious, easy going and, ultimately, happy with my lot.
And, if I ever do have a slightly paranoid moment about my wobbly tummy, I remind myself what one gorgeous man told me a long time ago: 'Darling, no man ever cares about the size of a woman's belly, as long as her breasts are bigger.'


The squishy bits are way more fun.
Yeah to laugh at.
And seriously Dawn French the 'average' woman?
I think I'll take the risk of wrinkles thanks.

Comments

  1. Godness, what was THAT?!?! Anyony a photo how this woman looks like? Of course we're not doing it 100%ly for men-they're not worth it.. but still we want to please them with our appearence adn if ofther women get abit jealous,why not? ;) Personally, I do it for MYSELF,because I woudl be disgusted with myself if I had a body like Kelly Osbourne or the girls/women I see every day taking their wobbling fat for a walk *ugh*

    ReplyDelete
  2. haha "taking their wobbling fat for a walk" I love that comment, genius!

    ReplyDelete
  3. I couldn't even get through it all because it made me too angry. What a jealous cow. Proud that she's making the skinny woman even more miserable by flirting with her b.f? .. what a fuck knob.

    Grrr. I want to punch her in the face.

    xx

    ReplyDelete
  4. this is her:
    http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2008/06/04/article-1024291-017CF7F300000578-188_468x607.jpg
    xo

    ReplyDelete
  5. well if rounded women are so in with men
    why i see at work that all the hot men are dating al the skinny girls and only not so atractive men are dating the squishy bits?

    ReplyDelete
  6. 38? she looks bloody 50 and i've seen women who were late 30s and SKINNY who looked like somewhere late 20's.
    I'd rather keep hating myself then swapping it for that woman' twisted reality---

    ReplyDelete
  7. Holy Christ, what a bitch.
    Honestly the mental image of squish bits and a woman stuffing her face with food is nauseating. You don't have to be weight-obsessed to see that.

    No one is better than anyone else, or more worthy of love and affection just because of their weight. Ass holes are the exception, and should definitely be avoided.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Don't be anonymous, leave a name at least so I can identify you back :)

Popular posts from this blog

"Here I am, sane and dry"

"I stayed there, staring at myself in the glass. What do I want to cry about?.... On the contrary, it's when l am quite sane like this, when I have had a couple of extra drinks and am quite sane, that I realize how lucky I am.
Saved, rescued, fished-up, half drowned, out of the deep, dark river, dry clothes, hair shampooed and set. Nobody would know I had ever been in it. Except, of course, that there always remains something. Yes, there always remains something....Never mind, here I am, sane and dry, with my place to hide in. What more do I want?....I'm a bit of an automaton, but sane, surely - dry, cold and sane. Now I have forgotten about dark streets, dark rivers, the pain, the struggle and the drowning...."
Jean Rhys, Good Morning, Midnight

Love. Sick.

And finally, today, I cried; soaked the tissues and pillowcase like I had been longing to do for weeks. The most I had been able to manage recently had been dry crying with a scrunched up face and aching heart. Such relief now to be able to physically release emotions other than vomit.

What words do I use to write about the last few weeks? Crippling, torturous anxiety, studying for finance exams, exercising and exercising, bingeing and vomiting, seeing Gareth, fucking Gareth, hating Gareth, exercising and exercising, bingeing and vomiting. Overcome by the fear and confusion and heartache. Studying for finance exams, but really just exercising and bingeing and vomiting.


The exams are done now and I have been free from those chains for a week - definitely alleviating a great deal of the pressure from my mental crumbling. I was close to slipping back under into the darkness. The darkness of having complete loss of control, complete loss of everything to the sickness in my brain.
days …

Wanting

We both knew what we wanted - of that there is absolutely no doubt.
We didn't have to say anything, from the start of the week, right up until the point where I was naked in his bed; we both knew.
About two weeks ago Gareth and a few of our colleagues had arranged to have a night out this Friday. We had a pretty tight knit group of 6 who often lunched together at work, but this was one of the few times we were actually going out together. From Monday Gareth was pestering me like he had before:  "Are you coming out on Friday, are we going out out, are we gonna have a big one..."  "Yes", I had replied, "of course." And I booked my waxing appointment and blowdry for Friday lunch, my mind made up about what I wanted.  I had been thinking what would I regret more; sleeping with him or not sleeping with him. I decided on the latter. I'd not been with anyone since Joe left in January and more than that, thoughts of Gareth were continually running through…