Peter Reynolds

The life and times of Peter Reynolds

Posts Tagged ‘sex

Why Is A Soft-Porn Model In a BDSM Outfit A Role Model For Young Girls?

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No disrespect to the victims and survivors of the diabolical Manchester attack.  Neither do I wish to undermine the courage and generosity of Ariana Grande returning so soon to Manchester for a benefit concert.  But what are the parents of her teenage and pre-pubescent fans up to?    How has this phenomena happened in a world that is one minute sex-obsessed and the next overly-protective of children?

I’m not too old (yet) for my immediate reaction to images of Ms Grande to be “…phwooar!” but then I check myself because she’s hardly past childhood herself.  What is going on?  On the one hand we have the handwringing and pious condemnation of our highly sexualised society, on the other we have kids wearing ‘Porn Star’ t-shirts, thigh-high boots and all sorts of PVC, leather and even ‘chained’ fashion accessories.  We have the righteous prosecution of more and more sex offenders but also the terrible persecution of a small number of innocent men who are pursued by both media and prosecutors with a mixture of prurience and blind, injudicious revenge.

I don’t even know whether Ms Grande can sing but she certainly can dance and flaunt herself in very sexy, provocative fashion.  Surely more suitable for a night out in Amsterdam or Berlin rather than a children’s pop concert?

Written by Peter Reynolds

June 1, 2017 at 7:46 am

Why Weed Is Better Than Sex (?)

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Or on “high” days and holidays try both at the same time!

Written by Peter Reynolds

January 22, 2011 at 10:31 am

Posted in Consumerism, Health, Music, Politics

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Cameron Stumbles Over Kerb Crawlers

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Oh dear!  Here comes the first knee-kerk reaction.  Next thing we’ll be hanging and flogging them.   The law against kerb crawling is of very dubious value or common sense anyway.  It’s the oldest profession.  Men want to pay women for sex and women want to sell sex.  It’s been going on since time began and silly, pointless little laws aren’t going to change it.

Can I Put You Down As A Researcher?

Fair enough, stop drivers kerb crawling in residential streets and harrassing your daughters but if you don’t pair such laws with legalised brothels or designated red light districts you are just making the problem worse.

I understand David Cameron’s desire to want to do something to declare his horror at the Bradford murders but I thought we were supposed to be past this sort of politicking now?  I thought legislation was now going to based on a rational, properly researched approach to problems.

What we need to do is make it safer for women who want to work as prostitutes and call a halt to the pressures that force women into prostitution.   That means some sort of regulated sex industry and the legalisation and regulation of drugs.

It’s not rocket science.  It’s common sense.  It means you may have to face down the self-righteous, moral crusaders so it takes a modicum of courage but I thought that’s where we are now.   This is the first crack in the veneer.  Let’s hope it’s quickly mended.

The Great British Menu

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I love food programmes.  It’s probably because I’m a glutton.  Saturday Kitchen is a must.  I organise every Saturday morning around it.  James Martin has done a wonderful job with his show.   I remember how excruciatingly awkward he was to begin with.  Now he’s become the epitome of the accomplished, almost suave TV chef.   I love it.

Masterchef?  It’s the one.  The music.  The relentless driving beat.  I don’t know whether it’s house or trance or what.   It’s clubbing.  Its addictive.  It’s the one.  I’m totally, utterly,  obsessed, enslaved.   It’s much, much better than sex!

Now the Great British Menu is back with its useful, early evening slot.  It sets me up for a TV night in.  There’s the lovable, opinionated Matthew Fort, the sweet and incisive Oliver Peyton and, forgive me ma’am, the royal, dignified, supreme Prue Leith.  These are the judges but it’s the boys (with one exception) in the kitchen that make the show.  The new format, where an uber TV-chef pre-judges three pretenders, works very well.  It’s a triumph really because they’ve taken their material and hugely padded it out, yet It’s better for it.  This is the ultimate lesson in how to make great TV in a recession.

The rivalry and camaraderie between the contestants is an extraordinary combination and really seems to get the best out of each of them.

Apart from the election, it’s the most entertaining thing on television.

Under Pressure

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About four months ago I embarked on a course of medication for high blood pressure.  For some time I’d been warned that I was marginal with a reading of 140/90 so I decided it was time to start looking after myself.  I was a heavy smoker and drinker.  My only redeeming factor was that I walk with my dogs every day for about an hour – and that’s vigorous walking, up and down steep hills.

I was started on a calcium antagonist and within a few days I had virtually lost the will to live.  I had no energy at all.  I’d lost all motivation.  In the most degrading epsiode of all, one morning I found myself prostrate on the sofa watching “Homes Under the Hammer”.  That’s when I knew it was serious.

I took myself straight off that poison and went back to see my GP.   My blood pressure reading was now 168/100.  He advised a change to a thiazide diuretic.  Being the not so patient patient that I am, I insisted on a full explanation as far as my “O” level science was capable of understanding.

This time it was more subtle.  My energy, motivation and enthusiasm was sapped gradually.  As my positive life signs went down my thirst rocketed to absurd proportions.  After a month or so I was regularly up six times a night with a raging thirst and a full bladder.  When I cleaned out the space behind the passenger seat in my car I had two carrier bags full of empty drink bottles.

In the meantime, I gave up smoking.  I give the pharmaceutical industry credit for this.  A month of patches and a nicotine inhaler weaned me off the evil weed easily.  About this I am both pleased and proud.  I have at least one  “cigarette moment” every day but I am not going back to it.  Although I can recognise no physiological benefit at all (if anything I seem to get more breathless now), I am much richer and everything around me is cleaner as a result.

The next visit to my GP saw my pressure reduced to 150/95.  Better but not good enough.  He advised me to start taking an ACE inhibitor as well as the diuretic.

I researched ACE inhibitors and was horrified at the range of side effects and contraindications.  Then, suddenly, coming fast up behind and undertaking me before I knew what was happening (forgive my blushes) I discovered I was impotent.  One embarrassing date and then a dawning realisation that nothing was happening, even involuntarily.  No more waking up with a big itch!

I’m not ready to give up my sex life just yet.  The one and only criticism I have of my GP is that he never warned me of this side effect.  I have also cut my drinking by a huge proportion.  From a half bottle of whisky upwards a day I am now comfortable with a single glass of wine or a small beer.  In the last few weeks my motivation has gone again.  I can’t be bothered with long walks with the dogs anymore.  Just half an hour out in the mornings and I’m exhausted.  I’m not interested in anything.   My occasional lunchtime nap has become a necessity.  Sometimes, even before midday I feel so exhausted, I just can’t wait to go back to bed.

Four days ago I stopped the diuretic and yesterday I felt like I had got my life back.  I have so much more energy.  I’m enthusiastic as I can’t remember for months.  I fair romped up the hill with the dogs this morning.  My thirst is calming down and I was only up twice last night.  My mojo isn’t back yet but I can feel a little twitch developing.  Come Christmas time I advise you to lock up your daughters once again.

The punch line? My blood pressure is now 170/110.  I may be heading for a massive stroke or heart attack any minute but at least I’ll die happy.  Despite giving up smoking and decimating my alcohol consumption, my blood pressure is much worse than when I started.  So what does that tell me?

I have no idea at all but at least now I have a smile on my face!