Dunc's Misogyny

The thing about women, though - that always gets a laugh, starting with "the thing about women" - the thing about women is they're very inconsistent.

"What Ho? Sexism!? I hear you cry, but I can support my case. It's like this:

You know the way, you meet some bird and you start going out and after you've been going out for a while, getting into all the cool sex and stuff, after about three days maybe, you're over at her gaff and you're sitting about waiting for her hair to dry or some such and you're looking at this mail order catalogue. Do you know them? They're these books of pictures and you can ring up this company and order what's in the picture and the company will send you something different. And they've got really weird stuff in them, like these sort of woolly fork things for cleaning Venetian blinds with.

I was looking at one recently; they're on the web, so you can check them out, this German bunch - forget what they're called - and they have this website and you take a look and the first thing that catches your eye is "Erotik" only spelt with a K to confuse you, so you think "Oho" and click on that, which brings you to these submenus - "Fun for one" and "fun for two".

So having come this far anyway, it's too late to turn back, so you take a look at fun for one, which are basically vibrators. Some of them are bent in the middle for added verisimilitude or something. There's even this body-molded thing with loops to attach it by, so girls can wear it about town, I suppose. You know the way you see them wandering about shopping or something and then they stop somewhere and start eating chocolate ice-cream, and they get this look, and I always thought it was just the girls like chocolate, but apparently not.

And then there's fun for two, and I think the strain of having such liberated women must be too much for the German blokes, 'cos fun for two consisted of a vibrator and a pack of cards! So, what - The bloke goes off down the pub for a game of cards with his mates and the girl sorts herself out? Bizarre!

So you're there, anyway, reading this book and you see "Romantic Underwear", so once again thinking in your dirty wee way "Oho" to yourself, you take a look at those pages. It's great! There's a picture of this woman - big blond bit - with stockings and suspenders and one of those bras that's missing the whole front, you know, it just sort of comes under the tits but doesn't cover anything, and what apparently is known in the trade as a "string ouvert" - all black lace, and a feather boa, so you say to the girlfriend, who's just emerged from the bathroom and caught you at it, "d'ye fancy yourself in that sort of get-up?"

And she says "yeah, deadly!? Er, no, that's not right, no.

No what she actually says is, "Fuck off! I don't want to look like some tart." And then she goes on a skiing holiday.

But before she goes, she has to go shopping for stuff. So she reappears for inspection a day later and asks your opinion, and thinking she may want to get laid before she goes, you refrain from pointing out that she looks like a big blue Michelin man - which she does.

You say, "Jolly good," or similar.

'Cos she's got this garment thing, right? It's red inside and blue outside, it's made of woven Kevlar and stuffed with polyvinyltrichlorethyltetrapropathene. It's about this thick! It's windproof, waterproof, fireproof, bulletproof - it's bloody everything proof. It'll shield her from the fierce wind as she tears down the slopes at 3 miles per hour and cushion her from the shock when she hits a tree and it won't wear through if she slides the whole way on her arse and it's guaranteed to be indigestible to yetis.

And she says "Isn't it great - it's what all the pros wear!"