Typical to everything I've ever come across, my normal like for blogging has been given a vasectomy following Simon Williams's immortal words 'blogs are compulsory'. Henceforth mine has remained untouched for a bit-too-long period of time.
So after spending seven minutes thinking about it, following a veggie curry not cooked by me, I decided something to write about would be lads' mags. They get my back up so many different ways and so I was more than merry to hear that the NUS have said they think they should be moved to the top shelf. And, according to El Guardiano, Sainsbury's have also begun bagging them to cover the rude bits on the front covers thanks to a few forward-thinking people and protective parents' comments. And quite right too.
Of course we are all entitled to read what we like but we should be free from the not-always-welcome sight of a woman's naked breasticles and alluring stare from a shop shelf. I'd certainly not want my young son or daughter's eyes to see them. We don't get to be innocent for long, why not at least pretend that there's no such thing as exploitation until they get a little bit older.
Regardless of how much these women get paid they are still spreading the view that women should at all times be skimpily-dressed sex kittens who are usually of a lower intellectual level and less capable at, well, anything except cleaning and blowjobs.
But this is a tired old argument and, given the huge selling power of these titles I can't see them being widely moved to the top shelf anytime soon.
And if there's any wonder, I'm not much a fan of woman's magazines neither. But I would probably go and work for either if I was asked.