Is Joanne Cassar’s boyfriend wearing platforms to the ceremony?
Just look at this laugh-making holiday photograph of Joanne Cassar and the man she wants to marry (who, incidentally, is not the same man she wanted to marry when she began her campaign to be allowed to marry as a woman).
She is wearing flat sandals and slouching and he is STANDING ON TIP-TOES. This is clearly something they do habitually, because in all her carefully crafted couple shots, his head is always a little higher than hers. But in those shots, their feet don’t feature.
The person who took this one either wasn’t properly briefed or did it deliberately. Anyway, it ended up on somebody’s Facebook page. Heels and tiptoes – hilarious.
Well, I suppose that’s always going to be a risk when you date another man who’s become a woman. Transgender surgery can’t change a man’s skeletal structure – hands, feet, limbs, height – just as it can’t change the male chromosomes. When two men are dating in a same-sex situation, nobody gives a damn who’s taller.
But when two men (biologically speaking) are dating and one of them has been socialised as a woman, apparently we still need the man to be taller.
Isn’t this weird? What we’re saying here is that the social convention on the man being taller than the woman is much, much stronger than any taboo on dating somebody who’s had a sex change.
This guy doesn’t care that everyone knows his girlfriend used to be a man, but he really cares that she’s taller than he is. You have to laugh. I mean, honestly.
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http://www.tiptoes.com.mt/handlers/image.ashx?id=16589
These would be more appropriate for the type of crowd they are likely to have at their engejc or tiec.
Ridiculous height issues aside (and being with a man, who became a woman, but looks like a man), again we see the chavtastic trait of visiting a historic, world renowned site such as the Leaning Tower of Pisa, taking a photo of it, but making THEMSELVES the main subject.
I always wondered. How do “ladies from birth” with the traditional chromosome configuration feel when they encounter a transmogrified male in the public lavatory facilities allocated to their sex?
Clue: you can tell immediately by the masculine voice and the sharp angle of the larynx.
[Daphne – We don’t even bother if men use the same lavatories, as long as they don’t make a mess.]
Daphne, don’t get me started on this one. Ask any cleaner which toilets she/he prefers cleaning and you will soon realise men’s toilets are generally cleaner.
I have house-shared with close to 80 people and let me assure you that many women, especially those of the princess variety, are much more likely to leave a mess than a man is.
[Daphne – This is not something I wish to discuss, but that’s because they refuse to actually sit on the thing in case they pick up germs. Then you get the obvious result. Men don’t have that problem.]
Oh yes, I forgot to mention that to top it off you can tell a man to clean up his mess but the minute you tell a woman to you are a chauvinistic pig.
Ah, the joys of being a man in 2013.
Point taken on that one small area but that cannot justify the thousands of hours I have spent cleaning areas of the house other than the bathroom due to messy, unhygienic, inconsiderate, selfish females. I will fight my corner on this one as I have too much pent up anger to just be able to say I will let it go.
So the other night I was having a few with me mate Spudkov, ogling the ladies and so forth, when I felt the urge to micturate. I sought out the gents, directed myself to the urinal, skipping over the puddles (oh yes, men are dirty pigs too) and was settling down to that state of bliss that only relaxation of the detrusor urinae can provide, when two ladies walked in.
I started, fumbling for my flies and about to issue an embarrassed apology, when it occurred to me that the mistake was on their side.
Putting on my best George Clooney voice, I therefore suggested the door opposite this one.
They just gave me a coy look.
Imagine my utter surprise and bewilderment when they both faced the wall-mounted porcelain and took out their manservant! I was bereft of words, denuded of a riposte, as I stood there on the tiled, urine-marinated floor.
For I had already fancied one!
I made my way back to the bar in daze tinged with rising nausea.
There is a lesson there for all of us chaps. Clean or not, germs or not, never let your guard down, for under the crinoline may lurk a giant Kraken.
Good one Baxxter. On Dragon’s Den on the BBC I vaguely remember the episode where some budding entrepreneur tried to sell a share in her company which manufactured these contraptions (essentially plastic penises) that women could use so that they didn’t have to sit down on some seat another woman’s shoes had just been on.
Let’s just say no investor was forthcoming.
Albona, I’m tending to agree with you on this one, although there are slobs on both sides [I won’t comment on the time I thought a chicken had been slaughtered] and, Daphne, I have had a variety of genders enter as I busied myself and never twitched so it’s good to know that ladies can handle the same situation just as calmly.
H.P. somebody should be following you around with a mic and a camcorder documenting this stuff for those leading less exciting existences.
Baxx’s Reality Show?
Bring it on. The producers know where to find me.
Like the Poet said,
“Oh, I am so shameless,
I want to be famous.
This is a joyride and it’s my life.
Can’t help my desire,
I want to go higher, higher, higher.”
http://youtu.be/ZjHakXCgmys
It used to be the leaning tower of Pisa. But can anyone explain what and who is leaning where in this picture.
This article exposes yet an other serious shortcoming of the hastily cooked up Personal Incentive Scheme, or whatever it is now being called. Apparently there are clearly stipulated rates for Male applicants and respective for Female ones but it seems to register a blank for “members of calibre” who present themselves as Transgender.
If transgender is a talent, then it will be eligible for citizenship for we are in desperate need of talent. No specification or defintion has been made, as long as it is talent.
I can never understand why some people need to air their private affairs in public as if they were permanently on some Jeremy Kyle show and have to keep up the ratings.
The long-haired one looks like a man in drag.