A Brouhaha over a HooHa, And Other Stories

Currently Listening: Tenacious D In The Pick Of Destiny
Currently Watching: Scrubs
Currently Thinking: If this is all there is, then what's the point?

Hi there.

It’s been an awful long time since I’ve stopped here to post my thoughts on this lovely little website. It’s kind of disappointing, because at the beginning of this year I had decided that I was going to be here a lot more, and maybe actually make this little part of the internet worthwhile.

The economics of blogging is a staggering subject. Apparently, someone starts a blog every 30 seconds. So why on earth would you want to read mine? My little page of rants and hopes and fears?

Probably because you know me. Maybe it’s my acerbic wit. Maybe you think I’m a wanker. I don’t know, and if the truth be told I don’t want to know.

Anyway, I have now purchased myself a shiny new Macintosh Computer, and therefore I’ll be here more regularly.

I’ve been trying to think of things to write about. And here’s my inspiration – the Metro. I think, for the foreseeable future at least, I’ll focus on one news story of the day and give you my take on it.

So here we go.

I want to talk about something special. Something important. Something beautiful. Do you know what I’m talking about?

I’ll tell you. It’s one word:

VAGINA.

n. pl. va·gi·nas or va·gi·nae (-nē)
Anatomy
The passage leading from the opening of the vulva to the cervix of the uterus in female mammals.
A similar part in some invertebrates.
Botany
A sheathlike structure, such as the leaf of a grass that surrounds a stem.

Is that so disgusting? Is it such a horrible word that you can’t bear to look at it? Or do you want to burn your computer screen, and throw it out of the window and never, ever think about it again? I know I don’t. So, yes, it can sound clinical, and no-one in the history of the world has ever, ever, used it as a purpose for talking dirty (“feel my hot, wet Vagina!”).

And this, as you may have suspected, leads us to America, and the subject of today’s lecture. Now then, me being me, I have thrown the paper away, but I’m sure the story still exists on the interwebs somewhere. The crux of it is this – in some small, back-water, blindly Christian town in Alabama, a production of ‘The Vagina Monologues’ is taking place. But they’ve changed the name. To what?

The HooHa Monologues.

I shit you not. Why? A lady made a complaint about the use of the word ‘Vagina’ in the poster.

Using the word Vagina in a poster for a production of ‘The Vagina Monologues’?? Won’t somebody please think of the Children?

Which is, ironically, exactly where the complaint comes from. Apparently, a lady walked past a poster for the play when her child asked her ‘Mommy, what’s a Vagina?’, and she had to suffer the ‘indignity and embarrassment’ of explaining to her daughter what a HooHa is. This, in turn, led the theatre to change the title in the poster.

So let’s get some things straight here. The mother thought is was undignified and embarrassing to explain to her daughter what a Vagina was. And that she had one. Has America come this far?

I do, of course, ask this of a country where Evolution is banned from being taught in the majority of states, whereas creationism is blindly accepted. But back to the point, if there is such disgust over using a perfect, biological term for a part of the human body, what hope have we got? Telling your daughter what a Vagina is won’t make her get out there and start using it. If she has a healthy and educated attitude, then she should be empowered (oh, Christ, have I turned feminist?) when she is older by having comfort in her body and knowing how it works. The way to develop a healthy attitude towards sex, sexuality and above all sexual health is to be open and honest with our Children when they ask us questions about their bodies and what they do. I guarantee that the kids won’t go and start breeding like rabbits, because they will have the knowledge and sensibility not to.

Equate it to this. Remember when you were in college – the kids who went out and got so drunk they couldn’t stand on a Friday night were the ones to whom alcohol had been a taboo subject growing up.

Of course, this in no way precludes the behaviour of teenagers, we all got drunk and had sex – I’m just saying if you had the right attitude towards it you can at least approach your life with a modicum of sanity.

So back to the question: ‘Mommy, what’s a Vagina’?

I would suggest the correct answer is not ‘It’s a filthy thing and we will never talk of this again’!

I’d hate to see what happens when a tampon advert comes on in that house. “Periods are… The work of the DEVIL!!”

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. We’re getting dumber. And, as usual, America is leading the charge.

But be warned – us Brits with all our education and our sensibilities and our erstwhile effective gun laws – are not far behind.

I want to close this with something very adult, and not at all Childish:

Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina, Vagina¸ Vagina¸ Vagina¸ Vagina, Vagina¸ Vagina!

Other acceptable body parts:

Penis
Vulva
Clitoris
Testicle
Scrotum
Foreskin
Urethra
Labia

That’s just a few. I hope some right wing Americans read this!

Chris Jensen – Scourge of Dumb People Everywhere! Where is your ‘God’ now??

Love,

Chris

X x x

Me vs Michael Jackson

Hello!

It's me again... Hitting you with my opinions! Blowing out cheese since daddy started bringing home the bacon!

And stuff like that.

It's a stealth post today. STEALTH. Under the radar, like.

It was the World Music Awards last night. And hundreds of millions of Michael Jackson fans queued in the cold to get a glimpse of their waxen hero.

He walked past with barely a glance.

Then, during the awards ceremony, the fans who were lucky enough to have tickets to get inside jeered and booed the other acts that were on (although, to be fair, one act was Beyonce) if they ran a couple of seconds over, as it was delaying their precious Michael.

And finally, on he came. With a choir of (fittingly) FIFTY children. His point, I imagine, was "Look! I'm on a stage with fifty children and I'm not probing ANY of their anuses! Not a drop of Jesus Juice in sight!" or something like that.

Here's the kicker. After TEN years without performing in the UK, he sang TWO POXY lines from a song that has ALWAYS been shite, and he didn't even moonwalk.

MJ fans paid £100 for this privelige.

My question is this: Why? Why do you people still like this guy who constantly takes the piss out of you? It takes about 3 seconds to sing 2 lines of song: you're paying him £33.33 per second! Why would you line up in the cold to watch the damp streak of piss hang around like a... a... well, a (alleged) paedophile in a playground?

Michael Jackson has been SHIT for AT LEAST ten years. I can already hear you lot, who are blinded by loyalty, saying "he's the king of pop!" or some other whiny nonsense - NO. This stops, here. He is NOT the king of pop. He's not even a good showman any more. He's never been that much of a songwriter. JOHN LANDIS made his biggest hit - and that was only through the video! You want to know where your 'king' is now? Buying shirts from FUCKING BHS!!

Well, that's it. There's certain levels to which even I won't stoop. And BHS is one of them.

But having said that, I've never dangled my child from a balcony, I've never (allegedly) bummed little boys, and I've never hung out with Phillip Green.

So what would I know.

Anyway, all I'm trying to say is that if Michael Jackson wants to make this 'comeback' then he needs to stop treating his fans like cunts.

That is all, I'm sure this will inspire some vitriolic ramblings - notably from Akash.

Peace and Love!

xxx

Shameless Plug vs Not Much at All

Hi all,

Just a quick post from me... I am putting up a work in progress here on Blogger, and would appreciate it very much if people would pass by it occasionally and see how it's coming on!

It's a Novel (or at least I hope it will be) - and you can find it at www.augustandtheorderofdragons.blogspot.com!

And now...

*Away!*

Me vs North Korea

Song of the Day: Walkie Talkie Man - Stereogram

Word of the Day: Harumph

Sound of the Day: Kaboom!

Hello all.

Yes, it’s been a long, long time, and I know you’ve all missed me, but there we are. It’s a shamefully tragic fact of life that, most of the time, you can’t have what you want. But, so it is said, you’ve gotta try. Try and try. Try and try. You’ll succeed at last.

Thanks to Mick Jagger for the lyrics.

So I’m back, like a prodigal thingy, hopefully with more opinions and drivel than ever before. I have no excuse for being so quiet, dear friends, other than the new job keeps me busier than a Japanese Prisoner of War, and that the distinct lack of internet at Chez Jensen was a contributing factor. However, the seven-month itch at work has taken hold, I now have the INTARWEB at home, and suddenly my blogging fingers are back.

What’s been happening of late? Well, to summarise the last few months, Llew got married, I got a girlfriend, the summer came and went and Tony Blair teased us all by saying he’d retire the Premiership.

And we’re all surprised that he hasn’t. Not to get in to a political rant – but His Toniness doesn’t exactly have the best reputation for being honest, does he?

45 MINUTES, MAN!!

Hmm. Best move on.

Realisation dawned recently. Realisation that I, Chris Jensen, have lost out on an awful lot of money. An awful lot.

“How?” I hear you cry “What have you not done?”

I shall tell you, dear reader. Starting from the first of this month, I've kept every email from former African dictators, dodgy Nigerian oil executives, dispossessed Zimbabwean farmers and - a new one this - US Marines smuggling out their Iraqi war loot and totted up how much I'd get if each and every one of these honest-to-goodness internet entrepreneurs came good on their promises of filthy lucre.A mere five days into the project, the current total is: £158,188, 455, so I can safely say, at this stage in the game, that this time next year Rodders, we'll be billionaires.

Hmm. Moving on again for the second time already.

Colin moves out in December. I’m looking forward to it, but I don’t know who the hell is going to move in in his place… So if anybody knows anyone who’s willing to move in to my flat (with me) (but not WITH me) then please let me know!

So it was a good weekend, all told. I have discovered several things such as:
- I’m old. Official like. Went clubbing on Friday and, at the age of 26, I was one of the oldest people in there.
- The night bus is still weird.
- Hamley’s on a Saturday is like the Seventh Circle. Only worse.
- My girlfriend is great.
- Even in my advanced years, I sometimes have to sleep with the light on.
- Jensen and the Jensenettes win the Heathcote Arms Pub Quiz for the second time running. We have the best General Knowledge in Leytonstone! Although, that really isn’t saying much!

It’s all over the news today that North Korea has finally flown in the face of international pressure and tested its first nuclear weapon. The size of the weapon they tested is unknown – but is estimated to be between 550 tons and 15 Kilotons of destructive power (at its largest, about the size of the Hiroshima Bomb). Now, I’ve been doing some reading in to this. Analysts say that, even though the North Koreans may have been able to develop weapons-grade uranium, they may not actually have a payload that could deliver it (we’ve discussed this before – ‘Deliver’ being a military term for ‘Drop the fucking thing on (enter enemy here)’).

What? Well what’s the fucking point in testing the fucking thing, then? This is the military equivalent of saying to someone a lot bigger than you: “Come over here and say that, you huge Visigoth Wanker!”

What we all need to remember is this: Even if the North Koreans HAVE developed a payload that could deliver a warhead, the likelihood of it going any further than Pyongyang is highly dubious. Further to that, assuming that they have, in fact, been able to Enrich enough Uranium-235 (and this is subsequent to the Uranium being a) mined, b) converted to ‘Yellow Cake’, and c) converted to Uranium Hexafluoride) they will have to build a sodding great Nuclear Processing Plant to make the damn stuff.

Unless they will reprocess what is left over from the enrichment process and make a Plutonium bomb, which can be made in a pretty inconspicuous looking building and is a helluva lot simpler to construct (it’s a widely held belief/knowledge that it wouldn’t take a great deal of difficulty to acquire (ha - even for a terrorist) Plutonium from Civil Nuclear Reactors (there’s 400 on the planet accounting for 17% of global energy) – and less than scientific ability to construct the bare bones of a warhead that could explode with the force of “100 tonnes of Dynamite – more than 20 times the force of the largest terrorist bomb attack to date” (Source, BBC).

The point I’m making is this – There’s always going to be some power crazed dictator (in this case Kim Jong-Il, and make no mistake about this, he is a dictator) who is going to start wanting to chuck things that go bang at other people. All the gumpf about this test bringing “happiness to our people” (North Korean statement) is, frankly, bollocks.

There’s a new world order, folks. When J. Robert Oppenheimer watched the first atomic bomb test he uttered the immortal line “I have become the destroyer of worlds.”

He may well have been right.

Because now George Dubbya almost certainly has his finger on the trigger. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad wants a trigger and is doing everything in his power to get one. Pakistan has nuclear capability. So does Russia. Hell, the second biggest nuclear arsenal on the planet belongs to the British.

Kind of makes you think, doesn’t it?

Whoops. No comedy today, it seems. But hopefully something to start a debate.

Speak soon,

Chris

My Friends & Me

I spoke to my dear friend Akash last night... It's so refreshing to talk to someone who actually listens to you, especially when that someone is a guy.

It's good to hear him centred. We talked a while, and he confessed he was doing his happy dance... That's what a friendship should be about, complete and utter honesty. The guy's like the fucking Dalai Lama. His levels of spirituality and ingenuity are something that I can only aspire to... His philosophy, perfect. And he doesn't walk around with his head stuffed up his own arse looking for the light switch.

I did fear for a while that he might have to go back home to South Africa... But I think things are looking up on that front.

I also spent some time speaking to Mum. It's not often we talk these days... well, we do, but it's not often we talk. So that was nice. She's a little less spiritual, but she's happy and God help her, she deserves it.

And then I spent a long time talking to Danielle. How blessed am I to have a girl like that in my life... someone who actually makes me smile, makes me laugh like a small child without fear of anything. It still surprises me that we can talk so much and never run out of things to talk about or say to each other. That's something pretty special, I reckon.

So that's me for today. I'm feeling lucky. I've got great (the best) friends. I've got DM. I've been in a good mood for an unprecedented 5 days in a row (which is pretty much unheard of in recent times), and things are going well.

I hope it's the same for all of you.

Peace,

Chris

Me & DM vs London!!!

Song of the Day: End Over End - Foo Fighters

Album of the Day: Kill Your Own - Hundred Reasons

Huge Honourable Mention to: The Badger Queen, of course!

Equally Huge Honourable Mention to: Akash... My Dalai Lama. (seriously, his blog is www.akashom.blogspot.com. Go learn, mortal.)

Quote of the Day: "Yes, the Dinosaurs were killed off by Gingivitis."

Hello hello!

So, I recommend that you take a seat and maybe even get a long cold drink, because this is going to be a bumpy ride – and at no point do I want you to get left behind, faithful reader!

It’s taken me a while to get this posting up… And the reason for that is I’ve had a lot to digest and I wanted to do the whole of last weekend a decent amount of justice…

“Get to the damn point, Jensen!” I hear you cry.

Well, if you’d let me speak, I would.

“Sorry.”

That’s ok. Anyway, I had an absolutely amazing weekend of unparalleled joyousness! Yes, yes I did.

For this weekend my extra special super friend Danielle came to London for a weekend of Magical Joy and fun and laughter – the story of which is contained herein!

Friday

Friday arrived, bright and warm. Fresh from England falling over the hurdle of beating the mighty (sic) Trinidad and Tobago and a new haircut, I left the house full of the joys of spring. Or, at the very least, of early summer. To the Central Line, which promptly suspended itself.

This of course meant I had to fight the ignorant masses for a space on the bus, to get to Stratford, to get to Waterloo… Eventually about an hour late…

But what was I late for?

That’s right. The arrival of one of the specialest people on the planet. One Danielle Menage, or the Badger Queen to you. I snuck up on her in the train station, and it was here, at this point, that the weekend began!

After trekking all the way back to Leytonstone to dump Danielle’s bags of STUFF and THINGS, we headed off in to London, and our first destination:

The Natural History Museum!!

I’ve always loved this building – but sharing it with the Nage was truly special… I learnt a lot that day. For example – Skeleton Monkeys CAN fly, they had to nail the T-Rex to the floor to stop it from charging people, and that buttons are simply there to be pressed. Also, the biology section smells of disinfectant, and there is a huge floating baby of doom. Oh, and it was Gingivitis that killed off the Dinosaurs. Well, that or Cricket.

Nells bought a Dodo from the Gift Shoppe. “Hullo, I’m a Dodo. I’m exctinct”.

So yeah. We made some memories.

But for all the fun and joy – the Natural History Museum isn’t air conditioned. BALLS. And we were getting very hot indeed.

So off we wandered.

To where?

Seriously, if you don’t stop interrupting this story, I’m never going to finish it!

We went to the:

Tate Modern

They’ve just finished the re-hang here – and by golly it’s amazing. I’ve been there so many times it actually begets belief – but to finally go there with someone who appreciates and understands art was a true breath of fresh air.

I directed Danielle to the Rothko room – Rothko is her favourite artist – and was quite happy to sit there in silence, listening to her, while she talked about this genius painter, and what she did for her A-Level art, and how it scared people… It’s so inspiring to be with creative people, especially around a building like that.! And what meant so much to me was that she listened to my opinions on the art there, and that she would talk to me about it too.

I felt quite embarrassed at times – because I’m fascinated by the art of Architecture – and I truly am very deeply in love with London and its buildings – and to talk to someone else who is interested in that and talks to me about it…

Well that just made me soar above the clouds.

After a couple of hours in the Tate, we decided to wander home, where I cooked for Danielle and then took her to what I imagine was the most daunting part of the weekend… we went to the:

Heathcote Arms

Where Danielle was introduced to the Motley Crew known only as my friends – Adam (my younger, better looking brother (haha), Zoe, Colin and Tom. We played pool, we got drunk, we played a silly bowling game! AND Word Up!

This was all washed down by a long walk to the off licence to buy late, illegal booze, and then back to my flat.

It was a heavy night – but my friends loved the Nage and have all talked about her pretty much non-stop since. That was the most important thing to me – that they all got on! AND she’s yet to meet Akash and Llew! Crazy!!

So, to bed (well, Lounge Floor) with a heavy head… and then in to:

Saturday

So, Nelly decided it would be a good idea (after having gone to bed at 3.30am) to get up at 10 past 9 and destroy my peaceful slumber. Now, she’ll tell you that I woke her up – so shall we just leave it that we woke up each other?

OK, we will.

Anyway, after a couple of hours sitting on the sofa with fuzzy heads, watching cartoons and eating croissants with cheese and bacon, we showered and headed off to Central London with the sincere intention of going to the London Dungeon.

However, the hangover and the heat became to much on the Jubilee Line, so off we had to get. Timed quite nicely, actually, as we ended up in Canary Wharf where we were able to marvel at the architecture.

As a little aside – Canada Square may be the best example of why I love this city. Yes, it’s a centre of capitalism and economics – but damn it’s beautiful. It’s all clean lines and beautiful buildings. And you can stand amongst these skyscrapers… And number One is simply gorgeous.

Eventually, we got ourselves back on the tube and headed off to London Bridge to go to the Dungeon.

Where our plans were scuppered.

Because the London Dungeon costs about a million pounds to get in to and the Queues were MAHUSIVE. So off we wandered up to the Embankment, to have a go on the London Eye.

Similar story here, huge Queues. We’ll come back to it later.

So we walked along the Embankment to Charing Cross and up to Covent Garden, where we wandered around the shops and generally getting very excited at the prospect of Paul Frank and David & Goliath & Quiksilver stuff.

We sat outside a shop while Nelly ate an Ice Cream and basically put the world to rights. One of the things that I love about Danielle is that she tries to see every viewpoint in order to inform her opinion… So yeah, in your face Animal Rights people, and Abortion Activists – and Hunters!!!

ARGH! I forgot to tell you about the

AQUARIUM!

I’ve been wanting to go to the London Aquarium for Blady ages, and finally got the chance to go. We went because we both like fishes and it looked nice and cool and air conditioned, so we reckoned we were on to a winner – and we were! There were some really cool fish, and I heard over the tannoy:

“Come and see our Octopus lecture!”

So off we ran! And we found it – and I was stunned at the lack of knowledge about Octopi. I mean, I’m not a leading expert but I’m pretty damn sure that neither was the guy giving the lecture.

So off we went.

But the place Blady rocked, and we ran around, waving at the little wormy guys, the strange floating piranha fish and the SHARKS! SHARKS are cool and brilliant! And it also turned out we’d seen the same programme on the hunting habits of the Great White Shark on the Discovery Channel. Thumbs Up!

We had a second go at the London Eye but to no avail – we will book it online and try again, DM!!

And then back to my flat (via crap breakdance troupes and a really long walk), where we ate Pizza (and didn’t drink Super Bock), and stayed up until the wee small hours of the morning talking about music (damn, the girl has good taste in music) and songs and me reading the things I’ve wrote out to her and books and everything… And we also watched the Amazing film “The Boys” which was an embarrassing experience for me!

Before we went to bed (Danielle decided for some reason that she was going to sleep on my highly uncomfortable sofa) we played a bit of a word association game… And from now on I shall always link:

LEAF with POTATO.

And then to the land of nod – interspersed with being kicked by DM and her doing impressions of a mouse with a plastic bag.

Anyway,

SUNDAY

Broke, bright and warm. This would be the last day Nelly and I would spend together on this fantastic weekend.

We had to wake up early as I go to teach on Sundays, so up we got and off we went to Croydon.

It gets a bit hazy here as I was teaching and poor old Danielle sat outside waiting for me. But bless her for doing that.

I tried to get out as much as possible to see her, and ended up finishing at 3.30. I had the fantastic news that I would now have an extra 2 hours of Danielle – so we traipsed back to the flat where we ate big sandwiches, and funny little feta and herb things while watching Family Guy and generally Chilling Out!

And then I had to take DM to meet Terri in Newbury Park for their long journey home. I’m no good at goodbyes, so I grabbed a hug from DM and then yelled

“Go! Just Go!”

And then waited til the car drove past so I could wave her away.

When I got back to the flat I found that DM had left 2 fivers in my room to pay me back for some of the weekend – which she didn’t have to do! But that was sooo sweet of her – and has bought me lunch this week! So thanks DM, that really made me smile!

I can’t believe it’s

THURSDAY

Now, and it’s taken me so long to do this. I’ve been blown away – I had such a good weekend!! I don’t know what it is about Danielle – maybe it’s the fact she makes me smile and laugh, maybe it’s the fact we’ve got so much in common, maybe it’s the fact she’s just, well, Danielle… But it was an incredible weekend and a time I will never, ever forget. Unless dementia kicks in, but I’m pretty sure that won’t be my fault!

I’ll tie this up just by saying – Thanks, DM. Oh, and:

MAKING MEMORIES!!

Lots of love to all of you,

Chris x x x

Me vs Parsley vs Pope Benny

Song of the Day: History - Funeral For A Friend

Album of the Day: Stadium Arcadium - Red Hot Chili Peppers

Word of the Day: Exponentially

Right.

I’m back and it’s rant mode GO.

Let’s get the shitty stuff out of the way first. I read in the paper today that there’s an initiative to help 20,000 people in London buy houses! Great news, or so you’d think. In fact, it’s helping 20,000 people who are on the waiting list for council accommodation make it easier to buy a place. So, it’s helping key workers. What about people who are NOT key workers who REALLY want to buy a house, or even a flat? Who’s helping us? No-one, that’s who. The base rate put upon us by the (good old) Bank of England is exponentially rising (quarter on quarter), with the result property prices are going up and up. Yes, of course there should be help for key workers to help them buy homes – I’m not questioning that – but the fact remains that young professionals are often priced out of the market and are forced to throw away vast amounts of cash on rent.

Which the Bank allows – which is odd when you consider that with my rent I could pay a fairly decent mortgage – but can’t get a mortgage for that amount.

All I want to do is buy a house. But with the crippling state the housing market is in at the moment, I can’t see it happening any time soon. My mother’s solution?

“Get a nice girlfriend and buy a house together?”

Oh, that’s handy mother. A real quick solution there.

Hmm. Shall we move on?

Point two of the day:

WHAT’S THE FUCKING POINT OF PARSLEY?

But enough about that, I think you’re all with me on this one.

This week, the Catholic Church has issued its (seemingly) yearly attack on Homosexuality, Same-Sex Marriage, Contraception, Abortion, Looking at People Funny and Farting.

Or, as I like to think of it, Pope Benedict’s New Nazi Party Manifesto. They may as well put “Are you queer? BURN IN HELL!”

Is it any wonder that hordes of people turn their back on the church year on year? There are homosexual Catholics out there who (I’m sure) would love dearly to be openly welcomed in to the fold rather than derided as outcasts. But then the spirit of inclusion hasn’t ever really been the Catholic thing, has it?

You do know that Pope Benny was a member of the Nazi youth?

I really won’t talk about religion any more.

Seriously though, what is the fucking point of Parsley?

I have only one more thing to say:

Dance as if no-one is watching you,
Sing as if on-one is listening,
Love like you have never been hurt.

Which is something I think we can all learn from.

Peace chickens, xCx