Friday, January 26, 2018

Let's sex this up


With a few minutes to spare this week, my thoughts turned to sex. Strange word: sex. It can be a verb, as in having it; a noun in terms of the act; and again, a verb as in determining the gender and even an instruction (not in the 50 Shades of Grey context) of “sexing” something up.
Two articles in today’s NZ Herald, a publication I rarely find interesting, prompted my new-found, though brief, interest in sex.
One was an article listing New Zealand’s top five dating sites. Yes, I know dating doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with sex—but let’s not be pedantic, and you have my sympathies that it didn’t work out for you. However, I digress.
What interested me about this article was that the second most popular dating site is called Academic Singles, which promises to “put you in touch with intelligent people near you.” Well I guess that could work; anywhere except Hamilton.
But what would a date with an intelligent person be like?  What would happen? Would the main subject under discussion be philosophy, the classics, or poetry? Would the sexual component consist entirely of an academic critique on Masters & Johnson? Who knows? In any case, the questions themselves are—well—academic. Surely, intelligence is indefinable—even adjustable. In the context of this site, it is also a conceit. I applaud anyone for going on to the site to find someone intelligent—we are all lonely at times—but are they not making a rather large assumption that they, themselves, are intelligent? I am not sure I would like to go out with someone so arrogant. However, good luck.
The second NZ Herald article about sex was a Kinsey Institute study of the amount of sex we should be having according to our age. Well, of course we would want to go and read that, wouldn’t we? I was not surprised to learn from the Kinsey study that those aged 18 to 29 had “sex” on average 112 times a year. Between the ages of 30 and 39, it drops to 86 times annually.  And sexual activity droops (pun intended) for 40 to 49-year-olds to half the amount of sex of their 20-something counterparts, making love 69 times a year on average…and some of it, I guess, must be distinctly average.
However, what disappointed me was that there was no mention in the study of the quantity (or quality) of sex for those aged over 50. The Herald tells us that is because (the study) “appears to back up separate research which found that sexuality among older people is largely ignored.” Really? Which separate research was that, and who did they ask?
To be honest, and here I am being both honest and through Fryday anonymous, I find it easier to ignore the Herald than sex. I am also here interested in their use of the word “sexuality.” One definition of that word I read said it was the study of human sexuality, which should certainly appeal to Academic Singles. Another dictionary defined sexuality as “a person’s sexual orientation or preference.” In stating that we over 50s are ignoring that, is the Herald suggesting we don’t care? That we’ll have it off—so to speak—with anyone? Well, all I can say to “Granny Herald” is that we over 50s are (usually) more selective in our partners than you are in your use of terminology.

Friday, January 19, 2018

So, this is The End...The Doors

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So Jacinda Ardern is pregnant? Or is it more socially appropriate these days to say Jacinda Ardern and Clarke Gayford are pregnant.
And, by the way, the NZ Herald caption for the photo making the announcement says, “Clarke Gayford and Jacinda Clarke are to become parents soon!”
When did that happen? When did she become Jacinda Clarke, or is that just her homage to her mentor Helen Clark?
Anyway, Fryday sincerely congratulates them both, but hopes fervently, if curmudgeonly, that we won’t see a repeat spurt of babies in Parliament as we did post-election. Spare us that, please.
And spare us the NZ Herald…for just about everything these days.
Where is the venerability, where is the gravitas, where is the news of yesteryear?
It has gone. Gone from once sage pages. Replaced by such headlines and “news” stories (today) as: “Kiwi Stars React to Jacinda’s Pregnancy”. The story that follows is comprised mostly of tweets from so-called stars such as ColinMathura-Jeffree, Urzila Carlson (who?), and Matilda Rice—among others.
With the obvious exception of Colin Mathura-Jeffree, they may be important and talented people in their fields (Colin doesn’t have one), but are we really interested in their messages to Mr Gayford and Ms Clarke?
I admit that it takes very little to track down a tweet, but hasn’t the NZ Herald got better things to with its time and staff? And who made these people “Stars” anyway and their views any more relevant than—say—mine, or yours?
I am sorry. This is a story that, as hard as I try, I can’t find any excuse for. It is drivel. It is dross. And if the caption is anything to go by it is also wrong. 
It is, in the end (and it may possibly will be), the NZ Herald, but not as we knew it.

Friday, January 12, 2018







The Democratic Republic of Wogistan (Inc.)
Office of the Foreign Secretary
123 Bruce Springsteen Boulevard (third door on right). Telephone: 125.


Mr Donald J. Trump
Presidente of the USA
Washington District Council
Washington
In America

Greetings from the Democratic Republic of Wogistan.

Our xalted leader, Presidente Yoseph Flagrantlie (God give him long life and much children), believe he friend of yours. Not now.

He say you call some countrys of which Democratic Republic of Wogistan friends be shitsholes. They not shitsholes. Your wife comes from Slovenia. That shitshole. Have you looked at your wive’s shitshole lately?

Presendentie thinking of declaring war on United States and Slovania over insult. Will have nuclear hollowcast as soon as we can hire plane.

If you want to save United States of America, you says sorry to all shitsholes that are not  and deposit US$50,000 into Presidente’s Help The People Account.

You do that now, or you will not see your United states or wive’s shitshole again.

Yoseph xxx
Yoseph Wankerstan
Foreign Secretary The Democratic Republic of Wogistan (Inc.)
Proprietor Spartacus Male Gym and Bathhouse.

Friday, January 5, 2018

My New Year's Resolutions


Man Fryday has made a list of New Year’s Resolutions:

1.     I will not mention Donald Trump this year. Bugger!
2.     I Will not slag off Hamilton, though it deserves it. Bugger!
3.     I will never criticise “Bishop” Tamaki’s stupid hairstyle. Bugger!
4.     I will never mention, comment on or even think about Whetu. Bugger!
5.     Having done it last year, I shall not make any further comment about Jacinda Ardern’s teeth. Bugger!
6.     I shall not use any big words in an effort to obfuscate an issue to demonstrate my immanent, though chimerical, superiority. Bugger!
7.     I shall not make up words to give further credence and croiadence to that superiority. Bugger!
8.     I shall not deign to use double-entendre in a scurrilous and superficial attempt to make you feel my button is bigger than your button. Bugger!
9.     I shall stop using swear words. Shit and Bugger!
10.  I never again write Fryday under the influence of whiskey. Bugger!

Now, having not kept to any of 2018’s resolutions, I’m free—free at last. Bring it on—it’s going to be a good year. All the best for yours, as well.

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