When I stay in on a Bank Holiday weekend, all kinds of bad things happen to my bank account. Boredom equals online shopping & this time round, I just so happened to stumble upon the Lomography website. My little camera … Continue reading
When I stay in on a Bank Holiday weekend, all kinds of bad things happen to my bank account. Boredom equals online shopping & this time round, I just so happened to stumble upon the Lomography website. My little camera … Continue reading
I’ve wanted a portfolio for as long as I’ve been taking photos. To have a little space online where all my best work is kept & available for me to see whenever I want. And now that has finally happened! … Continue reading
A while back I got the first film of my Canon AE-1 Programme developed. I didn’t take many photos as I bought it from eBay a few months from the end of my time in Spain, but it was something … Continue reading
You know when you come across one of those things on the internet, and it makes you want to shout;
“THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT I WAS THINKING!”
Well this is it.
And I just had to share it.

Gina: Yeah, that’s nice right? Well, it doesn’t exist ok. Look at the hair. The hair is long, it’s flowing, it’s like a river. Well, it’s a fucking weave ok? And the tits, please! I could hang my overcoat on them. Tits by design were invented to be suckled by babies. Yes, they’re purely functional. These are silicon city. And look, my favorite, the shaved pubis. Pubic hair being too unruly and all. Very key. This is a mockery, this is a sham, this is bullshit. Implants, collagen, plastic, capped teeth, the fat sucked out, the hair extended, the nose fixed, the bush shaved…These are not real women, all right? They’re beauty freaks. And they make all us normal women with our wrinkles, our puckered boobs, and our cellulite feel somehow inadequate. Well I don’t buy it, all right? But you fucking mooks, if you think that if there’s a chance in hell that you’ll end up with one of these women, you don’t give us real women anything approaching a commitment. It’s pathetic. I don’t know what you think you’re going to do. You’re going to end up eighty-years old, drooling in some nursing home, then you’re going to decide, it’s time to settle down, get married, have kids? What, are you going to find a cheerleader?
Tommy: I think you’re over simplifying.
Gina: Oh eat me. Look at Paul. With his models on the wall, his dog named Elle McPherson. He’s insane. He’s obsessed. You’re all obsessed. If you had an once of self-esteem, of self-worth, of self-confidence, you would realize that as trite as it may sound, beauty is truly skin-deep. And you know what, if you ever did hook one of those girls, I guarantee you’d be sick of her.
Tommy: Yeah, I suppose I’d get sick of her after about, what, twenty or thirty years?
Gina: Get over yourself. No mater how perfect the nipple, how supple the thigh, unless there is some other shit going on in the relationship, besides the physical, it’s going to get old, ok? And you guys, as a gender, have got to get a grip. Otherwise, the future of the human race is in jeopardy.
You’ve got admit, it’s pretty great, right?