The top 5 worst ‘sexy’ Valentines Day gifts
This is a sponsored post.
It’s still fricking awesome though.
Well, it’s nearly Easter. At least that’s what the supermarkets would have you believe with chocolate eggs already making an appearance. But there’s another gift buying, Hallmark day coming up first. A day to strike fear into most women’s hearts.
The dreaded Valentines Day.
*represses a shudder*
When we were teenagers it was something looked forward to with excitement. Would you get a card this year? Did you have a secret admirer? Would the person you sent the card to intuit it was from you and track you down at break time to declare his undying love behind the bike sheds?
Inevitably, not. No.
These days the fear is much less about not getting anything and looking like a sad dweeb who no-one loves or even fancies, and much more about the fear of the impending gift. One we will have to smile over and, if really unlucky, use or wear with fake excitement.
That’s right, it’s almost time for husbands everywhere to start Valentines shopping. Or should that be browsing porn sites and imaging themselves as the well hung stud and you as the skinny, shaved, inflated boob possessing tart. I can only assume that is what’s going through men’s minds when they buy this shit.
The top 5 worst ‘sexy’ Valentines Day gifts
Crotchless knickers
Never a good idea. Never. Not classy, not sexy and invariably made from cheap, scratchy material. Also not a good look when your lady has a grown-up woman’s hairy minge as opposed to a naked one that porn stars and prepubescent teenagers have.
Sexy costumes
Sexy serving wench, sexy nurse, sexy police woman etc: no! Just don’t do it! Firstly, this is supposed to be a gift for her, not a gift for you. Secondly, there is nothing sexy about serving to beer to drunken idiots, stitching people back together, moping up blood and being puked on or arresting people that have been beating their wives, drunk driving or shooting each other. And thirdly, it’s demeaning. Don’t do it.
Cheap sex toys
Yes, we can tell the difference. No, it’s not just about us wanting only expensive things, it’s about us not wanting bits falling off in our delicate areas. About wanting to be sure that the thing being inserted inside us is not coated in skin blistering chemicals. And no, it’s not normal for the chemically rubbery smell of sex toys to be so over powering that it makes your eyes water. Get your credit card out you cheap fuck.
Flavoured condoms
Yes, we know exactly what’s on your mind when you hand us a six pack of extra ribbed, mixed flavour johnies, and the answer is always going to be no. Because, I’ll let you in to a secret here, those ‘flavours’ all taste of rubber. Seriously, there is no way I’d put any of them anywhere near my mouth.
Hardcore bondage gear
Unless your lady love has already professed the desire to be tied up and beaten or dragged around on a dog leash and humiliated, now is not the time to introduce her to the darker side of your erotic fantasies. Pulling a gimp mask and leather straps out of that hastily bought, heart-covered gift bag is a good way to ensure that you never have sex again. And spend a large amount of time getting acquainted with the bed in the spare room.
If you really do want to buy something erotic and sexy for the woman in your life, then try some nice lingerie from Ann Summers. It’s on the high street. And all the slebs shop there you know: Emma Watson spotted saucy underwear shopping with mystery man.
Or a childminder and a bottle or two of decent wine. Hey, it would work for me.
Oh, and when buying underwear, do NOT buy anything that zaps you with static.
Unless of course your aim is give the love of your life thrush.
Monochrome World
The clouds in Lapland have barely lifted in weeks. The world has turned black and white. Or rather, grey and white.
My House Is Not Your House
When I was a kid, our house had dead locks, a chain, bolts, window locks and security lights set to come on the second a cat even thought about coming into our yard. And this wasn’t a rough area where crime was rampant. It was just normal.
As far as the folks of rural Lapland are concerned, that’s like living in fort knocks. It’s one step away from sitting on your porch with a loaded rifle and taking pot shots at the postman.
“If you started locking your door every time you went out, how would people get in?” was the confused question posed to me when I started asking questions about the lack of home security in my new home village.
And there was me thinking that was kind of the point.
When I first moved here I would stand slack-jawed in amazement as people left their house unlocked when they went out or their keys in the ignition when they parked outside the shop. It was like something from Little House on the Prairie, but with more snow and cars instead of horses. People clearly had no sense of danger, no common sense at all.
As time went by, these things began to feel normal to me and it was just after I’d gotten over my fear or being robbed if I left the door unlocked that it first happened.
We had our first uninvited guest.
I returned from a quick trip to the shop to find an old woman sitting in my kitchen. She’d helped herself to a cup of coffee and a biscuit whilst she was waiting and spent the next 20 minutes grilling me on where I’d been as if I’d broken some unwritten law of the land by not being there when she deemed it an appropriate visiting time.
Since then we have had a host of religious old ladies peddling their God, the old lady from up the road who suffered from Alzhiemer’s and would spend an hour thinking I was someone else and grilling me on my family history – I’m not sure who left that exchange more confused, me or her. And, most recently, the slightly odd chap that lives on the other side of the village.
He arrived unannounced (of course) a couple of days ago, walked in to the house, through the kitchen and sat down on the sofa in front of me and my astonished children. He smelt like he hadn’t washed in rather a while and even though it was -10C outside his t-shirt was rucked up under his open cagoule showing off his rotund stomach.
Confused old ladies and well meaning religion pedlars I can cope with, portly men that smell of alcohol, not so much. I hustled the children outside to play in the yard and phoned t’husband, demanding he get rid of the chap who simply looked at me like I was nuts every time I tried to ask him what he wanted.
There’s an awful lot to be said for having dead locks.
What Was Your Worst Christmas Present?
This is a sponsored post.
That doesn’t mean it’s not fecking awesome, hilarious and all round brilliant, mind!
Now that the smoke has cleared, the wreckage been mostly cleaned away and the kids back at school (or at the very least t’husbands back at work), we have time to sit and survey the extent of the damage that Christmas has wreaked. Not just on our wallets, but our wardrobes and homes as well.
The horrors inflicted upon us like those hideous Christmas outfits that someone always insists on buying.
Credit: Awkward Family Photos
The God-awful candle that you will have to, at the very least, pull out of the cupboard every time aunty Marge comes to visit.
Credit: Failblog
And let’s not forget the delightful ornaments family and friends think would look wonderful in your living room. Where do they think you live? Room 101?
Etsy
Etsy
What is wrong with the people that buy this shit? Haven’t they ever heard of the internet? Don’t they realise how easy it is to simply type in gift ideas for her and find something really awesome?
Then again, not being the best of present buyers myself, perhaps it’s the makers not the buyers we ought to be blaming.
I just thank my lucky stars these weren’t my Christmas presents. On the whole I didn’t have too terrible a year on the old present front, the worst things I got were a saucepan and a terrible old-lady jumper that I would post a photo of me wearing if it wasn’t for fear of upsetting the person that sent it to me.
What? No, of course I don’t mean the jumper you sent me. That was lovely. This is another jumper entirely. Ahem.
What I do know however is that I shall be eternally grateful that Christmas is only once a year. Thank god we don’t receive presents from obscure relatives for other religious festivals like Easter or Valentines Day! And t’husband, if you’re reading this, come valentines day, do search the internet for gifts for her, don’t even consider buying me something that looks like this:
Etsy
*shakes head in bewilderment*
So, what was your worst present this year?
So it snowed a bit lately
…and other understatements of the year.
For the last four weeks it has done little but bloody snow. And yes it’s all very festive, and yes it looks very pretty. But to be quite honest, it would look just as pretty and festive if it stopped snowing now.
Are you listening, you fickle and irritating God of weather? MAKE IT STOP
Cause I’m sick of having to dig my flipping car out of the snow every day.
But I know you’re only here to see the pictures of it looking all pretty and snowy and shit, and not to listen to my whinging and whining about the snow, so here you go…
I’m such a people pleaser.
There, I hope you’re happy now. *wanders of muttering to self*
I'm Heather, an expat Brit living in Kuusamo, northern Finland.
