I was doing my usual prowl of news websites when I spotted that David Norris had been ranting in the Seanad. We've already looked at that the other day, but lets take a closer look at the nasty underbelly of Tallafornia.
I just want to scrunch it into a ball, gather all my rage and stomp on it until it breaks through to the centre of the earth and melts in the magma. Or, you know, turn it off and not pay attention to it. Alas, I can't help myself. Every Friday, I subject myself to an hour (is it an hour-long, yeah? It bloody feels like an hour) of reality television hell.
I could go on for days about the crimes against cosmetics that have cropped up over the series like Nikita, who, despite having the money to pay a beautician to affix a diamante vajazzle to her foof, doesn't seem to be able to part with a few euro for a pair of false eyelashes that aren't covered in foundation and month old glue.
However, I've got bigger fish to fry. After viewing every episode so far, I think it's the women that are being exploited. I just cannot abide by the “boys will be boys, girls will be seen and not heard” ethos of the show.
On their first night out, the lads requested that“a hot blonde that's ready to go” would be brought back to the house. Instead, they got a gay man who they stood far away from, looking just disgusted enough to assert their heterosexuality. The guest refused beer and requested vodka on the basis that he was gay. You know, because beer and gee have indistinguishable tastes.
Worried that the lack of action they were getting would make them seem less masculine, the lads began constantly professing their ability to score. Cries of “I could shag twenty girls if I wanted ... Well, I could get thirty ... Ah, I'd bed thirty-five ...” rang through the house, only highlighting the fact that the guys are about as appealing as a bout of violent diarrhea.
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Yes Nikita, you have made a bit of an ass of yourself ... but so has Philly, the jennet
Some of the girls, namely nineteen year old Nikita, were more successful in amorous endeavours. While the lads were homo-erotically comparing muscles, she was actually shifting dozens of men. When word got back to the romantically challenged fellas, they were disgusted.
Not because she had achieved what they couldn't, but because she was a “slut” and “easy”. You see, it's okay for a man to stick his tongue into the mouth of every lady that he encounters but you must vilify a woman who does the same. Why? Because women can't be in control of their own sexuality, obviously. Well no, I disagree. You can smooch the face off whomever you like. If somebody calls you a slut, scream “Feck the patriarchy!” and go back about your business.
Nikita's one time lover and all time bully, Philly, spends most of his time putting her down and ridiculing her to anybody that will listen. However, when he finds out that Nikita has feelings for him, he rides her like Sea Biscuit. “I'm not going to say no to sex” he says, holding his arms up innocently, suggesting that indiscriminate boinking is part of his manly nature. Phillip, your behaviour isn't because you have a dick, it's because you are a dick.
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He later bitches about Kelly's pole dance, the one that he viewed from the ground below the pole, with his hands up to his eyes like binoculars. He complains that her “f*cking fanny” was hanging out and that it (get ready to clutch your pearls) had hairs on it. Hairs! On a muff! Outrageous. I never thought there would come a time in my life when stating this would be necessary; if you lie at the bottom a stripper pole, you will probably encounter a vagina. If you lie at the bottom of a stripper pole, encounter a vagina and then whine about it, you are an utter gobshite.
There's so many more instances where the women are treated like sex objects but I don't think I can go on listing them without pouring myself a stiff drink. Have you been watching the show? What do you make of it?
