Why Would I Write

Category: Rants

  • Blurry Bush and Mosaic Cocks.

    So, I never really understood the concept of censoring porn. What is the point of it? Does it make it any less explicit than it already is? Do they get to sell porn at a G rating if it is censored? Why do they blur out the actor’s privates (or publics in this case) when we know what is really going on! They’re not erasing it (which would make a hell of a comedy if they did) so we still see the mosaic-fied penis or vagina. Just that it’s not as clear as the actor’s faces.

    Come on, we all know she’s not gonna be mistaken for doing anything else other than sucking a dick when her head is in between the legs of a guy and her head is going in a back and forth motion, mouth open wide, one hand on her tit (which they surprisingly don’t bother censoring) and while all this is going on the dude is grunting or giving words of encouragement. What else could she be doing? Brushing her teeth? (I’m talking about the regular brushing of the teeth, not with that sort of toothpaste mind you).

    Or how about when the girl is on the bed on her knees and the guy is pounding away at her from behind. And they show a close up shot. A frickin’ close up shot. With their privates censored. It’s like looking at tiles on the floor and listening to the sounds of people having sex. For chrissakes! We know he’s not telling her a bedtime story or helping her with her to tie her shoes.

    If anything needs censoring– wait, nothing needs censoring. People choose to watch porn! It’s not like they’re forced into downloading a 750mb video and made to sit through the whole thing. In fact movies in our cinemas don’t need censoring either. Why the hell do we have ratings when everything is cut up anyway? If kids are watching movies they shouldn’t be watching, blame the parents! Why make the adults who are allowed to enjoy such things suffer the consequences?

  • Paperback observations.

    Why do authors write books with pen names if they reveal their real names in the book itself? I really don’t get it! Sometimes you don’t even have to flip open the book to find out that it was written under a pen name- you can read it on the cover itself! I don’t know why, but it bothers me.

    Why do women on trains wrap up their romance novels? Seriously, I’ve seen countless women on trains reading novels that have their covers wrapped with some fancy wrapping paper. They can’t fool me!

    I just thought to myself- what do covers of romance novels look like? A half-naked man standing with their sculpted bodies glistening in the sunlight and a women (sometimes topless with her long hair draped over her nipples) all over him. Now I realize why women wrap up their novels.

    But fantasy books have similar covers too- you get big breasted half naked women fighting dragons, but you don’t see them covering their books. I guess fantasy readers are proud to be caught reading such books. Haha.

    I started (well, to be more accurate I tried) reading Shakespeare the other day, and man it was HARD! More than half the time I was referring to a dictionary to look up the meaning of some words, and most of the time I’m looking up the meaning of obsolete words which aren’t even used anymore in modern English. I thought it could help inspire me with my writing or something, but it feels like it’s more trouble than its worth. But I’m not giving up.. yet! Who knows? I might get the hang of it soon.

  • There are forces at work trying to kill me.. or at least ruin my life.

    Blogs are for ranting eh?

    Or at least bitching about life. Well here goes- today’s post is dedicated to my darling bitch of a car. Yeah that’s right. We broke up today. She’s let me down too many times, no matter how hard I tried to patch things up, she just keeps on fucking around.

    This morning, I parked my car nearby the office, turned off my engine and started to get my things to get out of the car. All of a sudden I heard a loud popping sound. I turned around, expecting to see the cause of the noise. I didn’t see anything. I turned back to the front and saw smoke exhaling from my car’s bonnet. ‘Motherfuck!’

    I got out of the car and saw water from my car flowing down the road. ‘Shit!’

    At this point in time, I started to think to myself, what the fuck in the world did I do to deserve this? I had my car serviced recently (on Saturday) and everything seemed fine on the way to work. Anyway, to cut the story short, I called up the insurance road ranger, they sent a tow truck, towed my car to the workshop, and got it fixed- it was just a broken water hose. End of story.

    Not.

    Let’s fast forward to about 11.45pm (I managed to catch the clock at 11.34 tonight too)- I’m a few minutes away from home, going down a hill. I needed to decelerate because I was reaching a bump. I pumped the brakes. Nothing happened. My car continued going at the same speed (fortunately I am a slow driver- not that I suck in driving, I choose to drive slowly most of the time), and I went over the bump. I thought to myself ‘maybe it’s just my imagination, my car shouldn’t be failing, not now anyway’. And continued my journey. I reached another bump and tried hitting the brakes again. No response. ‘Fuck’.

    Cut the short story short- I turned on my hazard lights and continued driving home with the aid of my emergency handbrake.

    Fast forward about 20 minutes later. I’m back home, showered and sitting in front of the computer typing this. I know I should be fortunate, every time my car broke down, it wasn’t in the middle of nowhere. Middle of a busy traffic light? Check. At a petrol station? Check. In my carpark? Check. Nearby my office? Check. And I’m thankful for that. But then again, when you think about it- cars shouldn’t be breaking down so often right? I don’t know about you, but it never feels good to call home about the bad news. I guess that’s the problem with driving an ancient car. An ancient car that wasn’t well maintained when in its prime.

    My boss told me today ‘how many more excuses can you give about your car?’
    Not a good sign.

    Even Raelene thought it was sign we shouldn’t see each other anymore, cos my car kept breaking down on the day I was supposed to go out with her.

    Well, today is the day I officially give up on my car.

    You’ve served me well, my dear machine. But there’s a line that’s been drawn and you’ve overstepped your boundaries. I’ll get your brakes fixed up and sell you to someone else. And if nobody wants you, I don’t want you anymore either. It’s time to move on.