God gave me a penis THEREFORE I AM RIGHT!

Today, I was rather productive in one of my hellish lectures. No, I don't mean I actually listened and took notes, God forbid, I wrote a list of things I'm going to blog about and at the top of that list was: MEN! So, here we go! (Don't worry, women, I have a lot to say about you, too!) This will ultimately centre around men's attitudes to women, methinks, as this is an area I have a lot of experience with.

Perhaps a little disclaimer, Leah? Before you start flinging your biased opinions left right and centre without thinking "Hang on... Some MEN might read this!"? Fine, jeez... I am writing from my own encounters with men, and understand that they do not represent the entirety of the female species. Just the majority. I also understand that not all men are the same. Just most of them are. So, let the possibly lesbian-but-ultimately-feminist literal ball bashing, begin!

Because the male half of the human species has not only an X Chromosome, but also a Y one (how thoroughly thrilling for you, gents) they also got a hideous dangling thing between their legs, making a man rather similar in appearance to his unique chromosome (he wishes!) and is quite clearly a sign that the Y chromosome is still bellowing from the deep recesses of the DNA strand "Hey, remember me and all I did for you? Well, he's a memorial statue of me and I can't think of a better place to put it than between your legs!" Even though for many men it could have looked quite nice on the display cabinet that is their forehead. This hideous ol' Y chromosome also gave them an undeserved sense of self-worth, a superiority complex and an inability to supply blood to more than one of their two heads at once. But maybe that's being too mean? Meh. I'm a very mean person.

From what I have experienced and seen, men are severely simple creatures, thinking mainly with the head that only has seemingly one goal in mind - Imma get laaaaaaaaaaaid! Naturally, they was they go about it is similar to the way an infant child eyes that massive and painfully expensive cuddly Eeyore in the Disney store - "if it looks big and pretty then I want it, and I'm going to bother everyone around me in a most annoying and loud until I do get it" Apart from it seems that with the male brain this is edited slightly to "If it's got a cracking arse/pair of tits/pair of legs then I most certainly would like to put my knob in it!"

What baffles me the most is that it's almost like men believe that if they yell at a well-endowed woman as she wanders past that she's got massive breasts, that she's going to look down at her own chest and realise that the thing she has been missing in her life so far is obviously not a massive pair of tits, but a man who can state the obvious and shower her with such delightful compliments, and with that she will throw her handbag and all its contents to the wind and fling her hand down his pants faster than you can say "What's your name?" Message to men: IT DOESN'T WORK!!!

Just this morning as I was wandering to uni I was hit with a good example - 5 'men' crammed in to what I deemed on first appearances to be a Hotwheels car only slightly enlarged to accommodate their fat heads, who proceeded to honk the horn of their car at least 700 times while crying out, and I quote *ahem*: "I like yer tits, love! Give us yer number!" "Hey, you ain't got a bad arse either!" "I right fancy yer!" and my personal favourite "With tits like that only a man like me could make yer happy!" Charming. My reaction to this was not to throw my handbag at a woman walking her dog and run in to the path of their car, but it was, shockingly enough, to laugh uproariously and speed off, 'tits' obviously bouncing around angrily. Of course, that reaction was only after the initial heart attack and pants-shitting of having a horn screech at you several times in quick succession had worn off and I'd worked out what was going on.

I have large breasts? NO WAAAAAAY! I'd always wondered what these hugely expensive, back-breakingly painful, enormously heavy lumps of fat were on the front of my chest. Yelling things at women just makes you look stupid, and playing 'guess the bra size" or saying that you'd like a girl's bra, but it would look better on your bedroom floor will just end with a girl flinging a bucket of chicken at your car and assaulting you with salt sachets.

I'll Be Back

Lately, I have been watching A LOT of films that demonstrate my immense status as a geek/the wrong sex. Namely, the Star Wars films (No, I am not named after Princess fucking Leia. My name on my birth certificate is 'Leiah'! Pronounced 'Lee-ah'. It's the Irish spelling!) the Terminator films (well, the first 2. The others cannot be considered Terminator films, as they are, um, shite. To be blunt.) Predator, and the Jurassic Park films. And it got me thinking - yeah, don't be too shocked, I do think on occasion. Why are these films considered films for geeks? Or for guys? What is it within the 2 sexes that makes them geared towards liking a certain genre of film?

I once asked a man if he enjoyed 'The Notebook' in front of a group of his friends, which of course, was a mistake, as when he replied 'why yes, Leah, I very much enjoyed The Notebook' his friends literally roared with laughter and screamed 'GAYBOYYYYYYYYYY' at him for I think most of the following week. When I said the same film was 'alright' to the same group of men, but that I preferred horror or action films, I got several immense back slaps and hand shakes for being 'awesome' (which I am, of course, but that point is going off topic a bit). What is it that makes it so men must enjoy graphically violent, explosion-filled, horrific shooters or comedies, crammed with aliens, monsters and cowboys, where women are stuck with cartoons and romantic films that are all EXACTLY THE SAME!? (I'm sorry. I bloody HATE romance films!!)

I think you can blame it on Testosterone - the MAN gene! I like to call it the 'Peacock Gene' personally, seeing as it causes men to strut about at all times acting butch and avoiding showing any emotion other than anger or mild annoyance. I'm glad women don't have as much of it. Women walking around thrusting their chests out at all times is a sure-fire way for someone to lose an eye.

I grew up watching The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, and I can't remember a time when A Fist Full Of Dollars or a James Bond film wasn't on in the background. Batman was my hero and dinosaurs were the coolest things to have ever walked on Earth! I started playing video games as soon as I was old enough to hold a controller and would love nothing more than climbing trees or digging holes whenever I got to outside. I know that parents obviously raise their children, and have a lot of say on what they watch or do, but my mum and dad were always very in to letting their kids liking what they wanted to like, so it was all me! Am I a boy? Methinks my chest doth protest that claim, but I think you know what I'm getting at!

This attitude that I had as a child hasn't ever left me - I think I'm finally getting round to admitting that I am a geek. Come on, I have a 3ft tall wall scroll of Sephiroth from Final Fantasy VII on my wall (Who scares me SHITLESS if I ever wake up in the middle of the night). I have a shirt with a Tonberry on it. No one knows what the frig a Tonberry is. I have a stuffed moogle. There is no normality in that.

I'm not so sure on the point of this post any more O_________O BUT embrace your geekiness! There's nothing wrong with it!

Comments on the topic of 'Jar Jar Binks - WTF!??!' All opinions welcome. Unless your opinion is something other than 'he's an annoying wanker and totally pointless.' in which case your opinion is wrong. I'm kidding :P

Where The Hell You Been?

Er, hi!

Been a while, hasn't it? About 4 months maybe? Jesus, I don't think I've ever been quiet for that long. I hope you enjoyed it while you could, because I doubt it will happen again. (This is a lie. I'll probably get busy again and forget about you lot. Um, woops?)

So, what's been happening? I've had some drama. I've had some trauma. And about 80% of the things that have happened to me have been totally random and ultimately hilarious.

Basics-wise, I'm back at uni after a lovely Christmas at home with my family. It was also, I'm proud to admit, the first 'carnivorous' Christmas I've enjoyed in 15 years. Yip! Me likey de meaty now! "Why?" I hear you cry? (Well, I don't actually hear you) Well, I have some food intolerances. Um, yay. So, I cannot have dairy or starchy things any more. I'm even more awkward to take out to dinner than I was before. PEOPLE LIKE ME, ARRRRRRR!!!!!!

I turned 20, which makes me wince every time it is brought up. I don't particularly have any wish to be an adult. I don't act like one in the slightest, so I think it would be almost wrong to call myself one. Also, I don't want to feel old. Being 20 makes me feel old. Especially when my younger brother cries out "Holy SHIT I'm going to have an adult sister!!" while I'm driving. Sure-fire way to almost make me have an accident there, Christy Bum!

I've also cut the majority of my hair off. Once again. Even though I hated it when I did it before and practically pulled it all out through the stress of it not growing back again quick enough. I am currently sporting the same hair cut that a young Leah Deane sported. Age 5. She had no choice in the matter and looked vaguely sweet/female with said hair cut. Then Leah Heeney gave it a shot aged 15. I'm not quite sure why she did it - probably some sort of 'I WANT TO BE DIFFERENT' motive. Now, aged 20, Leah Noble has given it another shot.

*Derp face* What? Oh, yeah. I'm not Leah Heeney any more! Due to my, er, somewhat 'iffy' mental state when it came to a certain man (who shall remain nameless as I don't want to end up sobbing hysterically and rocking myself in a corner. Seriously. It was reaching that point. Anyway) who shared my previous surname, I have taken steps. Well, I say 'steps' in an uber-dramatic fashion, but all I've done is change my surname. Oooh, new signature! (Again). Judging on how long I usually hold a surname for, I should get married and change my name again in 10 years time. (Pfft!! Yeah, because THAT will happen!)

Maybe I should change my author name on here, then...

And so, I am back! So, get out the banners and the balloons (Amy style. She filled my room with balloons for my return!) and get ready to be filled with my random witterings once more. How thrilling are they? ^__________^