One misspelled word makes a BIG difference…

 A school teacher once a month has a sticker day.  She gives each child a sticker and asks them to write a story about it. On this day she gave a little boy a sticker with a horse on it, his story is below.

Chewing the fat.

 There’s just one thing that makes me more furious than the fashion industry promoting an unachievable thin body as the “ideal woman’s shape”. And that is when they use plus-size models. Why? Because they always photograph them nude, or in seriously stupid novelty pretend clothes, while claiming great swathes of moral high ground on the “Look, we use plus-size models too!” ticket.

 But before people start sending hate mail, let me recap: I don’t have a problem with having larger-sized women in fashion magazines, being a larger sized woman myself. What I object to is that they’re always nude – because then they are not large people looking lovely in the new styles and fashions – they are large people being used in a tokenistic manner in magazines.

 There are three reasons this happens:

1) fashion designers don’t make samples – or even the finished retail product – in sizes large enough for plus-sized women. Solution: if you want to make a feature of a properly big girl, make an effort and get the clothes sampled up specially okay?

2) plus-sized women often look better with no clothes on, when you can see the pleasing, sensual curves naturally formed by their unencumbered flesh, so it’s easier to get a good picture. Solution: again, make the effort! Get the big sizes made in designs that will suit her, and style her up so that she looks great instead of frumpy and uncomfortable, because the clothes options available right now were obviously not made with larger women in mind with those ghastly ruffles, and garish and vulgar patterns that leave women looking like side show freaks in a circus.

3) having the plus-sized woman nude has a shock value that balances out the other shock – that there is a plus-sized woman in a fashion magazine. Solution: if you can’t sincerely embrace the idea that a plus-sized woman can look good in fashionable clothes, then don’t put one in your magazine!

 The latest addition to this hypocritical canon comes courtesy of Mr Karl Lagerfeld. I have been previously impressed with the honesty of his statements on the high-fashion, skeletal-body controversy. He has been known to make outrageously un-PC remarks along the lines of: “You’ve got fat mothers with their bags of chips sitting in front of the TV and saying that thin models are ugly…” It’s a provocative standpoint, but at least he was honest, plus he’s got something of a right to say it, because he used to be a large man himself and slimmed down to a tiny thinnifer – and he’s kept it off for years now.

 He’s living proof that in most cases – not all, but way most – the difference between being a size 10 and a size 18 comes down to two things: self-control and giving a shit. In other words, having “being slim and healthy” on top of your priority list. Because in my own bitter experience, unless you have a God-given fast metabolism, that’s the only way to keep your weight down. It has to be the main thing that you think about, requiring constant planning and effort. Anyway, so wherever you stand on that spectrum of caring about being skinny enough to work at it, you have to give credit to Kaiser Karl for being real.

 But now he’s done a fashion spread for V magazine, featuring an obese “burlesque performer” (and how I feel about that retrogressive crap is a whole other story), Miss Dirty Martini, modelling next to a Coco Chanel lookalike on the iconic staircase at the fashion house’s Paris headquarters. The skinny-minnie Coco model is wearing a classic Chanel suit and hat, while Miss Martini is wearing – guess what? – Camellia accessories as nipple tassels! RUBBISH!

 Because how hard would it have been for Karl Lagerfeld to have had a fabulous Chanel suit made up in size 20? Now THAT would have impressed me as a fashion picture…..

The Big Fat Myth About Friends With Benefits.

 In the movie Friends With Benefits, Mila Kunis and Justin Timberlake play two recently dumped friends who turn to each other to scratch a certain naughty itch. Sexy hijinks ensue, typical romcom style. It’s a story we’ve all heard before (in fact, we saw it in theatres earlier this year, in Natalie Portman and Ashton Kutcher’s No Strings Attached). And it’s one that has likely played out in our own lives as well: About 60 percent of college students participating in a 2011 Michigan State University study admitted to engaging in at least one FWB arrangement at some point in their lives. You don’t say!

 If romcoms are to be believed, FWB situations always end up with the friends living sexily ever after. Now, you’re savvy enough to know that’s super far-fetched—the same Michigan State study found that only 10 percent of FWB arrangements end in real romantic relationships.

 But here’s the shocking part: They also found that just 26 percent of FWB actually ended in a wrecked friendship. Here’s a better way to look at it: 74 percent of FWB relationships DON’T destroy the friendship.

 “Most people who enter friends with benefits relationships don’t want relationships, but they still have sexual needs,” says study co-author Timothy Levine, Ph.D., professor of communication at Michigan State University. “And they likely conclude that sleeping with a friend is safer than sleeping with a stranger.” The possibility that one person is secretly pining for the other isn’t really all that likely. In fact, you’re both probably just using each other until someone better comes along.

 If that sounds super unsexy, that’s kind of because it is: Levine also found that the passion level in FWB relationships was uncharacteristically low for sexual partners. Basically, FWB’s don’t sleep together because they can’t keep their hands off each other. They sleep together because there isn’t anyone else more appealing at the moment.

 Ultimately, you’re bound to be disappointed if you enter into a FWB relationship with a friend who you’re secretly hoping becomes something more. If you want to date him, you need to be up front about that. But if you’re like most girls in FWB situations, you’re not crossing your fingers that the relationship gets upgraded to boyfriend-girlfriend status. You just wanna have fun. And chances are so does he.

Through the Humorous Eyes of Douglas Adams.

 Although I love travelling, there is no place like home. So when I found this, I had to share it with you, he hits the nail on the head. I love you Australia. Douglas Adams, of “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” fame, gives an insight into Australia.

 Australia is a very confusing place, taking up a large amount of the bottom half of the planet. It is recognizable from orbit because of many unusual features, including what at first looks like an enormous bite taken out of its southern edge; a wall of sheer cliffs which plunge deep into the girting sea. Geologists assure us that this is simply an accident of geomorphology and plate tectonics, but they still call it the “Great Australian Bight” proving that not only are they covering up a more frightening theory but they can’t spell either!

 The first of the confusing things about Australia is the status of the place. Where other landmasses and sovereign lands are classified as continent, island, or country, Australia is considered all three. Typically, it is unique in this. The second confusing thing about Australia is the animals. They can be divided into three categories: Poisonous, Odd, and Sheep.

 It is true that of the 10 most poisonous arachnids on the planet, Australia has 9 of them. Actually, it would be more accurate to say that of the 9 most poisonous arachnids, Australia has all of them. However there are curiously few snakes, possibly because the spiders have killed them all.

 But even the spiders won’t go near the sea. Any visitors should be careful to check inside boots (before putting them on), under toilet seats (before sitting down) and generally everywhere else. A stick is very useful for this task. At this point, we would like to mention the Platypus - estranged relative of the mammal, which has a duck-bill, otter’s tail, webbed feet, lays eggs, detects its aquatic prey in the same way as the electric eel and has venomous barbs attached to its hind legs, thus combining all ‘typical’ Australian attributes into a single improbable creature.

 The last confusing thing about Australia is the inhabitants. First, a short history:
Sometime around 40,000 years ago, some people arrived in boats from the north. They ate all the available food, and a lot of them died. The ones who survived learned respect for the balance of nature, man’s proper place in the scheme of things, and spiders. They settled in and spent a lot of the intervening time making up strange stories.

 Then, around 200 years ago, Europeans arrived in boats from the north. More accurately, European convicts were sent, with a few deranged and stupid people in charge. They tried to plant their crops in autumn (failing to take account of the reversal of the seasons when moving from the top half of the planet to the bottom), ate all their food, and a lot of them died.

 About then the sheep arrived, and have been treasured ever since. It is interesting to note here that the Europeans always consider themselves vastly superior to any other race they encounter, since they can lie, cheat, steal, and litigate (marks of a civilised culture they say) - whereas all the Aboriginals can do is happily survive being left in the middle of a vast red-hot desert, equipped with a stick.

 Eventually, the new lot of people stopped being Europeans on Extended Holiday and became Australians. The changes are subtle, but deep, caused by the mind-stretching expanses of nothingness and eerie quiet, where a person can sit perfectly still and look deep inside themselves to the core of their essence, their reasons for being, and the necessity of checking inside your boots, every morning, for fatal surprises. They also picked up the most finely tuned sense of irony in the world, and the Aboriginal gift for making up stories. Be warned.

 There is also the matter of the beaches. Australian beaches are simply the nicest and best in the entire world. Although anyone actually venturing into the sea will have to contend with sharks, stinging jellyfish, stonefish (a fish which sits on the bottom of the sea, pretends to be a rock and has venomous barbs sticking out of its back that will kill just from the pain) and surfboarders. However, watching a beach sunset is worth the risk.

 As a result of all this hardship, dirt, thirst and wombats, you would expect Australians to be a dour lot. Instead, they are genial, jolly, cheerful and always willing to share a kind word with a stranger. Faced with insurmountable odds and impossible problems, they smile disarmingly and look for a stick. Major engineering feats have been performed with sheets of corrugated iron, string, and mud.

 Alone of all the races on earth, they seem to be free from the ‘Grass is Greener on the other side of the fence’ syndrome, and roundly proclaim that Australia is, in fact, the other side of that fence. They call the land “Oz”, “Godzone” (a verbal contraction of “God’s Own Country") and “Best bloody place on earth, bar none, strewth.” The irritating thing about this is they may be right. There are some traps for the unsuspecting traveller, though.

 Do not, under any circumstances, suggest that the beer is imperfect, unless you are comparing it to another kind of Australian beer. Do not wear a Hawaiian shirt.
 Religion and Politics are fairly safe topics of conversation, (Australians don’t care too much about either) but Sport is a minefield. The only correct answer to “So, howdya’ like our country, eh?” is “Best (insert your own regional swear word here) country in the world! It is very likely that, on arriving, some cheerful Australians will ‘adopt’ you on your first night, and take you to a pub where Australian Beer is served. Despite the obvious danger, do not refuse. It is a form of initiation rite. You will wake up late the next day with an astonishing hangover, a foul taste in your mouth, and wearing strange clothes.

 Your hosts will usually make sure you get home, and waive off any legal difficulties with “It’s his first time in Australia, so we took him to the pub”, to which the policeman will sagely nod and close his notebook. Be sure to tell the story of these events to every other Australian you encounter, adding new embellishments at every stage and noting how strong the beer was. Thus you will be accepted into this unique culture.

 Most Australians are now urban dwellers, having discovered the primary use of electricity, which is air-conditioning and refrigerators.

 Typical Australian sayings:
* “G’Day!”
* “She’ll be right mate.”

 Tips to Surviving Australia:
* Don’t ever put your hand down a hole for any reason WHATSOEVER.
* The beer is stronger than you think, regardless of how strong you think it is.
* Always carry a stick.
* Air-conditioning is imperative.
* Do not attempt to use Australian slang, unless you are a trained linguist and extremely good in a fist fight.
* Wear thick socks.
* Take good maps. Stopping to ask directions only works when there are people nearby.
* If you leave the urban areas, carry several litres of water with you at all times, or you will die.
* Even in the most embellished stories told by Australians, there is always a core of truth that it is unwise to ignore.