Turning on the Girls - Cheryl Benard

A wickedly amusing novel with a feminist dystopian premise 

I will make a confession: I didn't really want to read this dystopian battle of the sexes satire where women rule the world sometime in the future after a great revolution. A future where patriarchy and testosterone male hood has been banished, stiletto heels, romantic novels and rape fantasies banned and vegetarianism is mandatory. 

Behind its innocent looking, flowery cover, the pitch sounded so blatantly feminist, it screamed “feminazi". A bit though provoking indeed but too "pro-women, anti-men" for my tastes. Yet, the preview still piqued my interest, and I thought I'd just buy it and read a bit to confirm my curiosities. Secondhand books can surprise you a lot. 

I barely got through the very first page, it was as if Cheryl Benard knew what was going through my head because it was as if she had started to talk to me. No, I'm not exaggerating or crazy, the author literally breaks into the story to do a little explaining for us. About four pages later, I actually liked her unconventional prose and silly sense of wicked humor and continued to read. Much to my delight, I must add. 

You can read the preview or an excerpt online to find out about the outlandish Orwellian plot with a feminist spin so I won't repeat it all here. I just have to say that it’s been a while since I read a radically inventive novel quite like this in the recent years. Weird sci-fi movies yes but a totalitarian gender-centric novel laced with erotica and dark humour? no. 

It wasn't just the plot that had a remarkable twist, it was also the way the story was told. It’s almost as if Cheryl Benard forgot to read the rules of storytelling and skipped her writing classes in college watching Terry Gilliam's terrific 1985 gem "Brazil" for inspiration instead. And much to the reader's joy, it works most of the time. The way she pokes fun at the differences between men and women without taking sides or condemnation is a comic relief throughout. 

As long as you don’t take this very seriously and ignore the many silly clichés and unnecessary gender arguments, the subtle humor placed throughout (like Justin sipping on a "Bloody Henry") is crafty and witty, alone makes a fun breezy read. If you thought women would make the world the better place, this bizarre novel turns this idea inside out, over its head, and still surprisingly succeeds.

Love is the Solution, Loving Yourself actually

Women, love the shit out of yourself! 

Feminism and women rights are all over the news lately. Credit Harvey Weinstein and the #MeToo movement. And it’s good. Finally, some real chatter on sexual harassment, healthy debates on gender discrimination and meaningful discussions on women empowerment but let’s face it, will it bring about real change? How long is the buzz going to last? The corporate world just sees this a good opportunity for free PR and the most of the mainstream media, shamelessly as ever, crass and voyeuristic. 

Unfortunately, expecting men to change is still a complicated work in slow progress. In my not so unpretentious opinion, I think women don’t need men to bring about this transformation. I doubt if the whole “menkind” will ever evolve to really respect womanhood. Maybe women should stop living in this vicious blame game and move on with a real new spin on the “change is good” philosophy. 

There’s always been a straightforward solution and it ain’t rocket science. Women must start loving themselves. It's really that simple. That’s the real cure. No opportunity to be used or abused! You don’t need anybody’s approval; you don’t have to ‘fit in’, simply learn to love yourself. 

If you are a woman, I know it sounds like something you'd already heard on some TV show. Now, before you twirl barefoot under falling cherry blossoms while remembering your womanly spirit, get real. Think of how many women and girls in your life who truly love themselves? Fact is, too many girls, young 20something – 30something women, and I'm sure quite a few mature women, DON'T love themselves. It is evident in their actions, the people they chose to be with, and the way they let those people treat them. 

So is it nature, nurture or just circumstances? I'm sure we can also chalk it up to chemical imbalance and pin it to low self-esteem. However, we are also affected by what society teaches us, no brainwashes us about love and who is loveable, about being a man and being a woman. The stereotyping never ends.

If you are one of those confused women, maybe you never really thought about it and never asked the million dollar question, "do I love myself?" 

Here are some tell-tale signs that you don't: 

a. You feel good about yourself only if you are in a romantic relationship. 

b. You don't accept that you are beautiful unless somebody tells you that you are. 

c. Your self-worth is based on acceptance by your boyfriend, husband, peers, your boss… 

d. And sometimes, you let this agony get even worse – like allowing yourself to be physically exploited and harmed, getting beaten up by your significant other even if the relationship has turned abusive, doing excessive drugs, unrestrained drinking…I could go on 

Maybe you don't need to be told this - you KNOW you HATE yourself and A through D are some of the reasons. Hold on! These are NOT reasons to hate yourself. Again, they are only symptoms. You are simply all these things because you DON’T love yourself. 

So how did you get so harrowingly low? It could be anything, from the fact that you were born in a dysfunctional family and your parents ignored you, to a traumatic personal episode you had in your life to the consumerist bombardment of thin, "make up heavy" models and fashion magazines that are a parody of life where only anorexic waifs and glamorous movie stars deserve love. Perhaps you were a loner at school with no friends, maybe you were poor watching all the rich, popular kids living fabulously. Or perhaps you were really the unfortunate unlucky one. 

Regardless of how you got here, how miserable your life has been so far, you've got to deal with it. Stop this victimhood and figure out a way to love get free and love yourself. This may be a long, hard journey but a journey of discovery none the less. Your eventual goal must be to truly understand, independently of the opinions of others, that you are a beautiful happy person. Then you'll be self-sufficient and confident, you'll love yourself, and you won't need anybody to love you back (that's just an added bonus). 

In order to get to this point, you have to start with a very simple affirmation - You are a good person. Its really a simple mind - body spirit kind of happy affirmation. Everybody can find one good thing about themselves. Think of as many lines you can to fill "I'm a good person because (fill in the blanks)" . Just start from there and the rest, will follow. Have Faith. 

If you have already started this journey, remember, you’ve still got a long way to go, but savour the progress you’ve made. Maybe, you hate a less little than yesterday and some days, you like yourself independently of what your colleagues or your boyfriend or your parents think. Become an influencer. Help your sisters out to rediscover themselves. Don't get caught with petty jealousy and catty politics. You're all in it together! Girls of the world, unite, love yourself and be happy!

Cool Hand Luke (1967)

What we've got here is a failure to communicate

Paul Newman gives one of his strongest performances in this superbly acted and gripping anti-establishment prison drama that released in 1967, the height of America’s disastrous involvement in the Vietnam War. Set in the early 1950s and based on Donn Pearce's 1965 novel of the same name, Cool Hand Luke received many positive reviews during its release and catapulted Paul Newman (who was 42 years old then) to a superstar, even fetching him a Best Actor Oscar nomination. 

The selection was well deserved as Luke is unquestionably the quintessential anti-hero, a nonconformist who resists and rebels against the system. His role is also a potent character study with shades of sadism and masochism, persuasive anti-war and religious symbolism as the story consciously parallels Luke’s prison struggles with the life of Jesus Christ. Seeing how many bits of Christian imagery you can spot in this movie is one more side pleasure of this landmark film. 

George Kennedy chips in with a powerful Oscar-winning supporting role and Dennis Hopper, Harry Dean Stanton, and Wayne Rogers contribute in minor parts. You also get to see Prison Warden Strother Martin in an equally solid performance as Newman’s powerful adversary. Seeing him delivering the iconic line "What we've got here is a failure to communicate" hailed as one of the 100 most memorable movie lines by American Film Institute, is a small pleasure in itself. Lalo Schifrin adds to the drama with an Oscar-nominated lovely score. Stuart Rosenberg's direction is mostly spot on. 

In 2005, the United States Library of Congress selected “Cool Hand Luke” for the National Film Registry, calling it a "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant” film. It is one of the those few films to earn and sustain a 100% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. If you are one of those oddballs who doesn’t know about this movie, watch it before Hollywood decides to malign it in an unnecessary reboot.

The Cured (2018)

Irish Zombie reboot of In The Flesh

The Cured (2018) is a blatant Irish rip-off of teenage zombie TV series "In The Flesh". Considering this is an Irish production and "In the Flesh" was a 2013-14 BBC TV series, it's baffling how a script with a strikingly similar storyline was greenlighted especially when they were also able to get established actors to star.

Nonetheless, The Cured holds its own as a dark zombie-themed thriller with some good scenes that remind you of "28 Days Later", and mature social commentary on issues like PTSD, class struggles and discrimination. Yet, despite all these social overtones, the fact that you know where this movie is headed dampens your enthusiasm.  

While Tom Vaughan-Lawlor and Sam Keeley are the main protagonists with more screentime, it is X-men and Juno fame, Ellen Page in a supporting role who stands out with a restrained performance as a sad single mother who has lost her husband in the zombie apocalypse. 

If you haven't watched "In The Flesh", you may probably like it too but for others like me, this is a slow zombie fest which has seen better days.

How to Go Bald in Style

A Requiem for Receding Hairlines

Today is my friend’s birthday (a very close comrade) and if I could buy him the perfect gift, I would gift him a magic potion for his MPB problem or simply ‘Male Pattern Baldness’.

My buddy started balding at the syrupy age of sixteen. In the sunshine years of his life, when we all stood before our mirrors, affectionately examining our emerging whiskers, he stood there anxiously fingering his barren temples. Like most mere mortals, his initial reaction to this impending disaster was one of immense and soul-stirring self-pity. For a time, he spent sleepless nights pondering over the whys and wherefores of his unlucky destiny, wondering why it had to be him and his poor pate alone.

Being however, a man of enormous resilience and coaxed by my inspirational hair-raising sermons, he decided that it was valor in the mind to take arms against a sea of troubles that to suffer the slings and arrows of an outrageous tragedy. He stood up to fights the menace of baldness that the flesh is heir… hair… too.

He purchased herbal hair oils, ayurvedic hair creams, and imported hair vitalizers and massaged them into his scalp each morning and night, outwards from the crown and not inwards from the forehead, as the label erringly advised - with a religious fervor that must have impressed even the man Upstairs. Come to think of it. I wonder if He ever had to face such a ‘hair-loss' situation!!!

The results were not exactly gratifying but he didn’t give up. After all, the number of hair strands in the bathroom following each bath had registered an remarkable decline of four and a half percent in a month. Besides, he could always try the other herbal brand I’d seen at the chemist's shop, the one with the glossy cover or the green concoction in the shapely bottle or… or… It took him one year and ten thousand rupees to realize the grave truth about hair oils and hair creams - they make you poor, they give you pimples but as a rule, they never give you hair.

A friend suggested seeing a celebrated trichologist at Bangkok, who had found a connection between sex and hair-loss and had become world famous reviving hairlines of the rich and famous but my friend having already spent a huge fortune vetoed this. One of his relatives recommended a hair-growing pilgrimage to a temple in Srilanka known for fulfilling all bodily needs while an Astrologer suggested getting the bald patches licked by a cow – apparently, a foolproof method for generating new hair but this suggestion too had to be discarded for want of an understanding and obliging cow!

During these days of unsuccessful experimentation, he had also honed up his skills of improvisation – he had developed strategic haircut patterns to camouflage the bald spots and give the barren thatch a ‘fuller’ appearance and if the situation demanded, he also wore a wig.

I shall be unfair if I do pause at this point of the chronicle to pay respects to his venerable 50 something barber who being bald himself understood the gravity of the situation. A word of advice to all balding brethren on the choice of a barber – the balder, the better. The barber who has all the hair on his head intact views a thinning plumage solely as a lucrative financial prospect. The bald barber, on the other hand, having himself been a victim to the vagaries of his disappointing genes beholds his customer with an air of compassion and views the task ahead of him as a philanthropic deed and not a materialistic undertaking. Well, barber or not - slowly but surely, he resigned himself to the terrible fact that his baldness had come to stay.

For those among you who find yourselves in the same boat, here are a few time-tested techniques to reduce the psychological trauma that accompanies this common but deeply affecting malady;

• Stop Worrying. Stress causes hair loss.

• Grow a beard. It detracts attention away from your head.

• Utilize remaining hair to cover maximum area of your bare scalp. Caution - while doing this, always stay away from ceiling fans.

• Stop being ashamed of your baldhead. Accept gracefully, the fact that your hairline and neckline are working towards a merger. Consider your prematurely bald head a distinguishing feature of your personality – after all, not everyone is lucky enough to have one.

• To counter acid remarks about your empty dome, have a few humorous answers handy. Try saying a bald head is like heaven – there is no dy(e)ing, Or say God created few perfect heads, the rest he covered with hair. Make sure they appear spontaneous. For best results, rehearse before a mirror.

• And when a women makes references to your bald head, put on your deadliest “bedroom-eyes” sexy look and say, “you know, bald men are different!” For all you know, she might want to verify the veracity of your declaration!

Happy Balding!

Ravenous (1999)

You are what you eat! Revisiting the underrated cannibal cult classic

Plagued by controversy during the production with original Macedonian art house director Milcho Manchevski (Before the Rain/1994) walking out due to studio differences with Laura Ziskin, this hugely underrated gruesome satire starring Guy Pearce and Robert Carlyle was to be then directed by Raja Gosnell who at that time only had Home Alone 3 to his credit. Ziskin's choice however, was outright rejected by the stellar cast and on Carlyle's insistence, his close friend a largely unknown British film maker Antonia Bird was eventually called in to helm Ravenous. And what a fantastic choice she was! 

A bewildering cannibalistic western that blends colonial American history with pockets of black humor and naked satire; it's one of those genre-defying strange films that make you unsure of whether to laugh or cringe, so you frequently end up doing both. Surprisingly, Ravenous largely received mixed reviews when it released and performed dismally at the US box office just scraping around $2 million against a reported budget of $12 million, but over the years, this weird little horror gem has now achieved a cult following and is getting the rightful attention it actually deserves.

Set amidst the bloody Mexican-American War (1846 – 1848), the mesmerizing screenplay by Ted Griffin (Ocean 11) melds the supernatural Native American myth of the Wendigo whose appetite for human flesh is insatiable and is the source of its strength with real historical references like the Donner Party - Alferd Packer cannibalism to create an alluringly savage satire on American capitalism, colonialism, over-consumption and greed. Like the Wendigo, this is a 'on your face' bloody take on the voracious locust-like history of the America's brutal past. 

Staying true to this grim motive, the main character, Second Lieutenant John Boyd (Guy Pearce), is shown as a coward who is sent to an outpost manned by a handful of soldiers during the Mexican-American war. When a ragged man F.W. Colqhoun (Robert Carlyle) stumbles in from the cold and reveals that his fellow travelers resorted to cannibalism when they became snowbound, the commanding officer (Jeffrey Jones) decides to go on a rescue mission. 

The story that follows seems almost predictable, but never stops when you expect it to, with characters popping in and out at the most inopportune times for Boyd and the most unexpected times for us. And that's where lies its magnetic (and grisly) dark charm. 

Guy Pearce is sublime as the weak but upright Boyd; he has surprisingly few lines of dialogue, but his character is intriguing and complex. Carlyle is menacingly superb while Jones and David Arquette provide adequate support. The costumes and makeup are top notch; the mood of the film palpably dense throughout and the bleak landscape shot in Mexico and Slovakia, with its dirty snow and patches of dirt, contributes to the sense of deep isolation and dread that Boyd feels when no one believes his tales of the Wendigo. There is, of course, plenty of foreboding suspense and a lot of blood and gore but its all done with great panache.

Part of the feel good credit undoubtedly goes to the haunting music that permeates throughout the movie. The evocative score, a splendid collaboration between Damon Albarn, the lead singer of  Brit pop band - Blur and Michael Nyman (Piano) elevates Ravenous to an entirely different level adding a surreal omnipresent tone to all the macabre happenings Boyd (and us) have to witness. Nonetheless, it is still appropriately weird, stunning on its own but not at all what you might expect the music of cannibalism and violent death to sound like.

Ravenous is a fantastic example of splendid movie making but horrendous movie marketing. A Hollywood paradox that's sadly yet to be fixed. Until then, see Ravenous again like I did, its still a refreshing watch and the music is a big plus. And for those of you who haven't seen it yet, the time is now especially if you like delicious blood soaked horror! Bon Appetit!  

Ravenous Soundtrack Playlist - Michael Nyman & Damon Albarn

Dating Advice for the Women of the World

Dating shouldn't be a guessing game. Saying a simple Yes or No is all that matters!

The shortest distance between two points is a straight line. So please, please, ladies when you get asked out, talk in a straight line. Say what you mean in twenty-five words or less. It's best for everybody involved. Chaos theorists say that the more moving parts in a system, the more difficult it is to predict outcomes. So sex is like math. Keep it simple.

I've been told some astonishing lies and disinformation for no reason at all.  I accept "No thank yous," with good grace, but being made to feel like Alice talking to the Caterpillar infuriates me.

For example, a common approach in my circles is to encounter a woman at a place or function, like a club, play, beach, or bar. Maybe this is the first time you've met her, maybe not. You make friends with her at the function and, when the curtain falls or last call is announced, you say, "Would you like to go for coffee? Drinks? Dinner? Ice cream?"  The idea is that you will take her off to a more intimate setting, just the two of you, where you can showcase your wit and sensuality to each other and see if this is going to develop.

Answers I DO NOT GET include, "No thank you," "I already have a boyfriend," "I'm not looking for a relationship, but thanks," "I'm a lesbian," "You hideous freak, I would rather roll naked in maggots." All these answers share the common elements of clarity and sincerity. There is little room for misunderstanding with any of these answers. If I got any of these answers, I'd walk away a little disappointed but feeling that I'd gotten a square deal.

Answers I DO GET include, "Sure! I'll just go tell my friends!" - delivered with a friendly smile. Then she disappears into the crowd and never returns.  "Oh, I have to drive my two friends home. Where are you going to be afterwards?"

I reply, "I was going to go home... but, I'll tell you what, I'll give you my number and once you get your friends home you can call me and we'll figure something out."

She never calls.

My friend told me a story where a woman accepted his dinner invitation, named a date and time, gave him directions to her house, took his phone number, gave hers. When he arrived at the address at the arranged time, the house was dark and the driveway was empty.

What's wrong with "No thanks."?

If you don't want to go on the date, just say "No."  Okay, maybe you don't want to be that blunt; you want to spare his feelings. So, you could say, "Gee, I just don't have the time."  Trust me, it's like a bullet through the back of the head.  Lights out.  Didn't hurt.  It's the best thing under the circumstances.

But saying, "Sure, just give me a call!"  And, then dodging his messages, is like sealing a bulkhead on a submarine. He gets to spend two days coming to the realization that he's a big fucking idiot for ever thinking that you were telling the truth. And furthermore, once a guy gets poked in the eye two or four times with this particular stick, it tends to make him edgy and untrusting, and some poor woman down the line who did show up for dinner and drinks is going to be saying, "Why don't you ever tell me what you're feeling?"  So, think of that future woman, at least.

Some men, of course, can't take a straight "No" for an answer, and will keep pestering you about it, turning up in your favorite bars or at your work and repeating themselves, figuring blindly that you said "No" the first five times but the sixth time you're going to crack. My advice, pepper spray that guy, then kick him in the nuts - he'll probably figure it out after that.

And by the way, if you want to go on the date, just say, "Yes! Thursday, seven o'clock?" Don't play hard to get, because anti-stalking laws prohibit us from pursuing that. And any man who thinks you're a slut for agreeing to what he just proposed is a small-minded boob. Discard him immediately. 

So this is universal masculinity (embodied by my humble pen) reaching out to you, the women of the world, with a plea to talk in a straight line, and please teach your friends and  daughters to do the same. The suffering and misunderstandings and accidental charges for criminal stalking or sexual harassment that will be saved in future generations will be immeasurable. No to mention, what a great stride this would be for ongoing diplomatic negotiations between the sexes.

Finding a Soul in a Soulless World

The death of Society is real but it needn't be the end

We live in a diffused, fractured society where we are trained to do whatever is necessary to succeed. Climbing the corporate ladder ranks higher than wrestling with the myriad moral and ethical questions that arise during that ascent. Maneuvering to get another's job or to win a treasured promotion is standard operating procedure among the upwardly mobile segments of the population. 

To rationalize this approach by citing family concerns, bills, survival, status, etc is to cleverly elevate the self while disregarding a greater responsibility to the moral fabric of the community. Young people maturing in such an amoral environment are vulnerable to the inherent contradictions and inconsistencies. The adult world practices a creed of avarice and acquisition ignoring the consequences of such blind depravity. Homelessness, drug and alcohol abuse, poverty, racism, and general emotional despair decorate a nation intent on propagating spiritual negligence. 

Are there no opportunities for those persons endowed with conscience? Must an individual, in order to feed himself and his family, sell himself to whichever godless corporation that will take him? Why must the truly compassionate be forced off the mainstream into low-paying jobs with non-profit organizations? Why do we raise our children to submit to the soulless 9-to-6 rat race mentality? 

Are we so lacking in moral conviction, imagination, and inspiration that we do not demand alternatives? Are we so frozen in fear of authority, of challenging the status quo, of the risk of losing our financial stability that we willingly aid and abet the spiritually bankrupt nature of the job market? 

Why do we not take a stand against greed, corruption, ruthlessness, insensitivity, and egocentric behavior ?. The human consciousness is so muddled and confused that the entire human race creates for itself problem after problem after problem. We were granted the privilege to populate a most beautiful and bountiful planet. The richness and diversity of both fauna and flora, the incandescent azure, aqua, ebony, sepia, emerald, ocher, magenta, scarlet, and amber, the luminous fragrance of a midnight moon or a sunny sea breeze, the kitten's soft, ticklish coat or icy snowflakes on a wintry afternoon, and the lions's roar of ocean surf crashing upon rocks or the buzzing bumblebee dancing from flower to flower comprise the sensual wonderland of our world. 

Instead of rejoicing together in this vast splendor and frolicking amongst ourselves in childlike purity, we choose to establish boundaries, to rape and pillage the planet and each other. Our history is one episode of domination after another with one society enslaving another or one culture suppressing another. Human beings have little interest in sharing and collaborating. Each seems driven to ennoble his own peculiar pettiness at the expense of others. If god is there, he must sometimes wonder why He allowed such lowly evolved creatures to ruin one of his most exquisite creations. 

We live in a society that determines a person's value based on his financial status and his willingness to conform to pre-set standards. Economic viability and conventionality rank higher than compassion, kindness, and tolerance. Those who strive for uniqueness and who tend to diverge from the mainstream find censure and ostracism as their reward. 

Since the vast majority of the population is without deep-rooted conviction, anyone exhibiting such conviction is viewed as a threat. If this individual also chooses a rather unconventional lifestyle, he is viewed not only as a weirdo eccentric but as a dangerous element that must be dealt with accordingly. 

Socrates drank hemlock; Martin Luther King ate lead. Society is most unforgiving when its arbitrary status quo is in jeopardy. A child will incur his parents' wrath if he adopts values that are incomprehensible to them. There is tremendous societal pressure to fit into a greedy, self-aggrandizing slot. 

To listen to one's conscience without compromise guarantees unending ridicule and persecution. To be a light in a dark world generates malice and animosity from the mediocre masses who hide behind walls of corruption, paranoia and condemnation. Still, its never too late to change the path! Choose wisely, live purposefully! Truth always has a value. GM

Building a Blogger Community

Uniting Movie and Music Bloggers across the world

Two years ago, sometime in March, I wrote to all my fellow movie bloggers about starting a new website for the Movie Bloggers Network. For those unaware, the Movie Bloggers Network is a movie lovers community of movie bloggers, movie critics, film makers, actors and film fans I founded in 2012 along with the Music Bloggers Network, an identical community but aimed at the music scene. Rather too ambitiously, I also invited all of 'em to register their movie blogs. And yet almost 27 months later, I have to sheepishly admit I failed. Yeah, it sucks to admit defeat. 

Well, at least I didn’t get it off the ground I originally intended to. I suppose it's largely my own fault. Rotten planning, running a creative agency (that’s my full time job), too many distractions, too much travel and an unwilling investor. Or maybe I should blame the self-defeating desire that most of us have – do more than you actually can and being a perfectionist, doesn’t help either. Now it's going to be October and once again, the feeling of unfinished resolutions is overwhelming. 

This seems to happen to me every year, especially around my birthday. June is supposed to be a time when my world of work takes a back seat to leisure and laziness! Yet every year, I end up swamped with deadlines - which means that I spend much of the month hunched over my laptop with the calendar reminding me - hurry up, you are late, half a year is already over. 

Though I generally try not to focus too heavily on the business side of the Movie Bloggers Network, I hope you’ll all agree that maintaining a website is, ultimately a financial cost plus the time and concerted effort to keep it fresh. Particularly in these tough economic times, when newspapers are filled with grim tales of corporate implosions, I felt it's was very important to keep all of my fellow blogger up to date on news from my mother ship and mailed all of em about the unfortunate slow progress. This post is actually an extension of that original mail.

Anyway, if this sounds like a depressing setup for some sort of grim announcement, relax! The good news is that I have finally got traction for the new site and not just one but two. One for the Movie Bloggers Network and one for the Music Bloggers Network. 

Without much fanfare, I have been working with my small but devoted crew since December 2016 in creating a fresh new website and a mobile app too that hopefully every music & movie blogger and every music and movie fan will love. So if you've already registered your blog for the new website, its time now for you to send us your photograph (nice pics please), your updated web and social links including your facebook profile, your facebook fanpage (if you have one), twitter, youtube, instagram, etc) to let us know how famous you are, a short bio about yourself (in third person voice) describing all that's good about you and anything else you want the world to know. 

For those who are yet to register, the time is now to join us and become part of a new movie influencer and music influencer community. So, if you are a movie blogger, register here and if you are a music blogger, register here. And do help me spread the word around by tweeting, sharing and liking and anything else across the social space.

Regardless, if you're taking it easy this month, please savor the time. Think of me staring at a flashing cursor, and I'll picture you at the beach with warm sand running between your toes. And I'll try not to feel resentful. In the meantime, I promise to stay in touch and blog more often. And, as always, I remain grateful for your support, suggestions and feedback. Onwards and upwards.

Wintry Leg Blues

Why winter is bad for a shameless leg addict

A long winter is awaiting. Summer has come to an end (well almost) and with it, the never-ending search for the perfect pair of legs. A lot of guys call themselves breast men or booty lovers! Boobs, hooters, ass.. whatever you want to call; it is what gets their rotor in action. I am not patronizing nor am I a sexist but you can’t see getting all hot and excited on a lazy afternoon over something that women keep mostly covered up no matter what the temperature. But legs, think about it, they are generally out there, bare and beautiful and often neglected from the male psyche unless he is clearly into leg fetish. 

I think more guys are leg men then they would think of themselves like that. Breasts really require a certain amount of mass, a critical mass or a shape you could say, to reach a true erotic enticement for men. And asses are just too all over the place to find a lot of very attractive ones. Usually a woman’s, any woman’s, most attractive part, or at least the part most easily made attractive, are her legs. An expensive pair of nylons (and they are all expensive) can hide a lot of flaws. A short skirt, no matter what it is revealing, catches every guys eye. 

A good friend commented, he recently shaved his girlfriend’s legs for her! Yeah, he did. He lost a bet and she put him to work for the day, not exactly a worst gig if you think! In the end, he made his girl happy, got the full appreciation for having her legs just as smooth as he liked, and it was not much work apparently. A lot easier than shaving our man face, he told me. 

I’m making this much more personal than I intended but legs sometimes just drive me crazy. Maybe it is the knowledge of what treasure lies at the conjunction of the two beautiful rods or the beauty of two legs flailing uncontrollably in the air behind my back. You just don’t get that much in the winter though. Most everything is done under the sheets in the winter making for much constriction and zero views. Many women cannot stand to be cold no matter how hot you make her... Maybe you should try turning the heat up in the room heater. 

So, it’s obvious to assume that I also have a fascination (not a fetish) with a certain aspect of the female form (and just the boobs or the ass). That which keeps us upright or serves to hold us tightly to each other when in the vertical. One cannot but agree that the perfect pair of legs must be proportional and I don’t mean in regard to each other silly. Proportional: as in from the top down. Whether they are fat or slim can be a turn-on or turn-off depending on what body type you prefer. Legs can be thin, heavy, long or short and still guys are thinking what they would feel like wrapped around their torso. After all, for each, his own. All said, there is indeed something about having a smooth feminine thigh touch against your rather ugly manly (and mostly hairy) leg that just drives home the obvious contrast between men and women. And that erotic contrast is an easy one to see when you compare a man’s leg to a woman’s! 

The true problem for this appreciation is when winter arrives. Suddenly, all those women with their bare legs out there for all the world to see are nowhere to be seen in the colder climes unless of course you live in a tropical country. I am just bemoaning the fact that it will usually is between 3 to 6 long wintry months before you can spend a lazy summer afternoon just admiring the legs of the pretty women of the world. 

I travel a lot you see. I was in sunny Thailand a few months ago, on business of course. The women do have nice legs in Thailand and you’ll find them aplenty. I guess it really is a prerequisite for living in a humid climate where you must have them out there all the time. But attractive legs really do not seem to be a regional phenomenon, I have found them all across the world, even in hostile snowy weather like Russia. For instance, when I was in St. Petersburg in March, I got to sample a little whiff of the legendary Russian winter. When I say cold, it’s not like anything you have felt elsewhere, it’s really freezing cold, the extreme kind of cold that would turn your balls blue! And yet, I was surprised to so many women of all ages, all covered up on top but in short skirts and big heels, flaunting their legs fashionably as if they were impervious below to the minus degree temperatures! I must also admit, Russia has the prettiest and hottest women of the planet that probably explains how Russian men (and tourists) weather the harsh winter & stay warm and happy! 

So, it brings down to the finding the perfect set of legs? I actually found them around 5 years ago in a sports club where I was a member. She was tall, cute and a brunette to boot. She helped train basketball during the summer and her husband was the coach. They were newlywed. I remember that she was really good, better than me, and had the most incredible pair of long slender legs. Perfectly tanned too, about as tall as her legs that is. She didn’t come back the next season though. Heard she had divorced her husband over the winter. Turned out she was a closet lesbian. Imagine that guys. The best fucking legs out there and they are wrapped around some girl’s head right now. Leg up, life truly is not fair.