For the love of sh*t footballers, Leon Knight’s a gem isn’t he? You’ve got to hand it to him…for someone who uses up 93% of his braincell activity typing the word ‘LOL’, coming up with #slagalertpics (or #sap as it’s also known) must have nearly driven him to have a stroke. For those of you who aren’t aware of the concept, this is what happens;
Guy looks through his phone to find a photo he’s once been sent of a girl in underwear/naked.
Tweets it to Leon.
Leon then ‘outs’ them to his Twitter followers…usually with a hilarious caption such as ‘whos this slut LOL’
Lastly; if a girl fancies emailing Leon with a grovelling message and a suitable explanation as to why she was so bloody disgusting, then he might be a darling and let her off.
Anyone who hasn’t either sent or received a ‘rude’ photo is one of a gnat’s cock size majority. I’m not in the slightest bit nervous to admit I’ve done it
Here….I’m just going to list a few arguments against #sap and sexual inequality, attempt to not rant myself to death and keep wishing on nearby ladybirds and eyelashes that Leon Knight gets his bollocks dunked in nitric acid.
Firstly….anyone who hasn’t either sent or received a ‘rude’ photo is one of a gnat’s cock size majority. I’m not in the slightest bit nervous to admit I’ve done it, it falls under the category of ‘fun’ and Leon, along with his merry band of plebs might want to give it a go. Personally I don’t think you should dish them out willy nilly…you don’t want to be saved to everyone’s sim card…but the odd underwear shot here and there doesn’t mean you’ve got the class of Kerry Katona on a coke binge in a Yates’ bar. The thing that bewilders me the most, is the gargantuan level of hypocrisy that comes with such photos. There are tonnes of women on Twitter who actually have to take up valuable characters in their bio stressing they don’t want cock photos sent via DM because of the amount of men who presume we do. And despite the hideousness of receiving an unwanted snap of a throbbing chelm, you don’t see any of us setting up a Twitter vendetta. Essentially what we’re talking about here, is just a body…of which we’re constantly made to feel embarrassed about, and of which those complaining would be quite happy to stick their arm up like a farmer and a birthing cow.
Nowadays, women have got the right to vote…we can wear trousers…and grow a moustache if we don’t wax for a while. However, write about wanking, sex and certain parts of the anatomy on Twitter and BY JOVE you’re judged. The amount of people who’ve met and informed me they ‘presumed I was a go-er’ or ‘filth’ and would be ‘a little bit louder’ is ridiculous. The fact I can type a tweet that isn’t “just gonna watch Dear John with my cat in my fluffy slippers LMFAO’ doesn’t mean I run around Central London fisting myself into oblivion with a pint of Stella, it just means I’m not a bimbo. I still have social skills…I wouldn’t launch into a chinwag with a pensioner about bukkake (aside from my nan, she LOVES buckkake.) It also doesn’t mean I’ve got a ‘male sense of humour’ because, prepare yourself, some of you humans what got willies aren’t all that funny either.
Men. If you wouldn’t mind…just picture this. You’re single and ready to mingle. BUT, and this is important…you must follow all these rules. Go on dates by all means, but don’t put out. Maybe give yourself a five date rule. However…while sticking to that, don’t be a complete cold fish…maybe give your ladyfriend an indication to what fun she’ll soon be having by paying a visit downstairs with your mouth otherwise she’ll think you’re a massive snore. That said, prepare yourself for all her friends knowing once you’ve done it. All of them. Because…you didn’t think she’d keep quiet about it did you? SILLY! In fact, you might only be texting and she’ll have already told her friends. Actually, not just her friends…all the girls she plays netball with too…which is super fun, because when you go to parties, everyone can ask you about it! Yay! Once that’s all over and done with…you’re allowed to finally take the plunge and get your willy wet. For her to then decide, nah…she’s not feeling it. That’s fine…you can move on…but not too soon…otherwise everyone will find out. And this, THIS is where you really have to concentrate. The average number of people you’re allowed to be able to sleep with in your lifetime is eight. EIGHT. So, single from 18 – 25? Tough, space ‘em out…or face a lifetime of everyone thinking your cock resembles a slug in a condom. You’ll be as alluring as a kidney infection.
The female form exists to be celebrated and there are some men out there who aren’t out to ruin your life and might actually appreciate them
Doesn’t sound like something you’d be interested in? Yeah, nor us. Which is a big ol’ bag of shame because it’s exactly what we have to deal with.
Ladies. Say what you want on Twitter…especially if you’re single. Don’t hold back because you think a bloke might be put off. We’ll just all meet up in, say, 7 years and buy a barn in France where we’ll house a lot of stray dogs, eat guacamole and have permanently hairy legs. Secondly, please let it be known, should I ever have the misfortune of bumping into Leon Knight I’d take a dump in his eye faster than he loses followers. Thirdly, and most importantly, keep sending naked photos. Because the female form exists to be celebrated and there are some men out there who aren’t out to ruin your life and might actually appreciate them. I just suggest you stick to these two rules;
- Don’t take a photo of your squashed frog (think about it).
- Don’t include your face.
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