Do you really think you are that stunning?
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Pevenseagull
meh
- Jul 20, 2003
- 20,693
how could anyone forget 'Vicky Pegg' *shudder*
Blackadder
Brighton Bhuna Boy
She is on ITV at the moment. Looks OK, not great,
Phat Baz 68
Get a ****ing life mate !
- Apr 16, 2011
- 5,026
useful for a one nighter but wouldnt want to be seen walking down the street with it !!!
sydney
tinky ****in winky
even if she lived in Lancing she wouldn't be special .......she's a f***ing minger ,a munter , she looks like she's been put on fire and kicked out by a mad donkey, she's a f***ing wrong ,fat , fluid retentive.......beast...!!
Tricky Dicky
New member
Blimey - was watching the test match but had to turn over. She looks worse than the pics, sounds awful. She also looks rather older than I assumed she was.
I have a feeling this is all about money and fame now. She wanted publicity and she's got it. She'll now make a small bundle as a "celeb" (a swear word in my book).
That's 2 mins wasted - back to the test match (any time watching ITV is wasted, so rather goes without saying)
Blackadder
Brighton Bhuna Boy
My wife just said exactly the same. She wants her 5 minutes of fame. Lord knows why anyone would want to be hated though? takes all sorts I suppose.
Not read through much of this thread but thought I would post it.
Like Samantha Brick, I have been hated for my good looks
Dowling: 'I've grown a beard – but hair can't hide soulful, beseeching eyes'. Photograph: Graham Turner for the Guardian
Read by 20,436 people
Wednesday 4 April 2012
Tim Dowling read Samantha Brick's article in the Daily Mail about women resenting her beauty and knew just how she felt. Here, he tells how men hate him for being too handsome
Last week I was waiting at a bus stop when an attractive younger woman reached out, touched my elbow and pointed at a pound coin lying on the ground near my foot.
"That yours?" she asked.
"Probably," I said. "My keys sometimes make a little hole in my pocket." She giggled nervously as we both glanced down at my slim-fit chinos. I blushed a little as I bent over, with her watching, to retrieve my money.
You're probably thinking: "What a selfless act of random kindness!" It may have been kind, but it was hardly random. Ever since the hole appeared just after Christmas, this has been a regular, almost weekly occurrence.
As a fit, good-looking man I'm used to women coming up and finding excuses to talk to me, to touch me. In fact, if I had a pound coin for every time it happened, well, you can do the maths. Don't forget to factor in all the pounds I would have lost if those women hadn't said anything.
This other time, when I was caught travelling on a peak-time train with an off-peak ticket, the (female) train manager smiled and said to me: "I should charge you the full single peak rate, sir, but this time I'll just charge you the difference." My savings, in this case, amounted to nearly £12.
It's not always about money, though. There was the lady on a flight to New York who, apropos of nothing, suddenly turned and offered me a breath mint. Just last November a woman I've never met stopped me outside a supermarket to give me a poppy. The incidents may be varied, but the reason is always the same: my exceptional outward appearance. While I admit I'm no Philip Schofield, I'm tall, slim, brooding – and very easy on the eye.
If you're a woman reading this – or, more importantly, looking at the pictures – you will know exactly what I'm talking about: you probably feel like telling me there's a wasp near my hair, just so you can reach out and muss it up a little.
If you're a man, on the other hand, you've doubtless already formed an opinion about me. You almost certainly find me a threat – a threat to your career, your relationship, your masculinity. It's not something many men will dare to speak publicly about, but being terribly, terribly handsome is a double-edged sword. For every female Starbucks employee who made it her business to remember my name, there was a male employer telling me to do up my top three shirt buttons in the office. I can't tell you how many male acqaintances have stopped speaking to me over the years for petty "reasons" (unpaid debts, being alleged source of unpleasant rumour, refusal to appear as character witness), when jealousy is the transparent cause. I'll probably never know how many women have been too intimidated by my looks to talk to me, but I know exactly how many men have been angered enough by my face to try to punch it.
I don't invite the attention. I've come to dread the sarcastic, whispered comments in the gym about my physique, my chiseled jaw, my loose-hanging tank tops. At times I've found it so stressful that I've even taken steps to play down my physical beauty. I tried wearing a hoodie all day, but they wouldn't let me into Harrod's food hall, where the lady at the cheese counter sometimes gives me free samples, even though I hardly ever buy anything. More recently I decided to grow a beard, just to blend in with "normal" men. It helps a little, but there are only so many parts of a face a beard can cover. You can't grow hair on soulful, beseeching eyes, for example. Also, stuff gets caught in a beard – food, small leaves, postage stamps – which just gives women another excuse to strike up a conversation, and their jealous partners another reason to roll their eyes.
Perhaps you're quite a good-looking bloke yourself, and have experienced a fraction of the bastardness I've encountered at the hands (and once or twice, the boots) of insecure, embittered males. Maybe you can in some small measure empathise with how difficult it is to live in a society where a man is constantly expected to look his best, but is then punished for looking better than anyone else. Is it any wonder that Piers Morgan has moved to the US?
I know some people (men) will feel obliged to cast aspersions on my looks – believe me, I've heard it all before – but I won't apologise for the truth. I can already anticipate the global backlash my courageous honesty will generate: the nasty tweets, the threatening emails, the bad-mouthing from Jeremy Vine (it's beneath you, Jeremy, it really is). That won't stop me. I'm prepared to meet my critics face to face, on social media, to put my case. I've dug down and exposed an issue very few gorgeous men are prepared to talk about. And I intend to keep right on digging. After all, your hatred only proves my point.
Like Samantha Brick, I have been hated for my good looks
Dowling: 'I've grown a beard – but hair can't hide soulful, beseeching eyes'. Photograph: Graham Turner for the Guardian
Read by 20,436 people
Wednesday 4 April 2012
Tim Dowling read Samantha Brick's article in the Daily Mail about women resenting her beauty and knew just how she felt. Here, he tells how men hate him for being too handsome
Last week I was waiting at a bus stop when an attractive younger woman reached out, touched my elbow and pointed at a pound coin lying on the ground near my foot.
"That yours?" she asked.
"Probably," I said. "My keys sometimes make a little hole in my pocket." She giggled nervously as we both glanced down at my slim-fit chinos. I blushed a little as I bent over, with her watching, to retrieve my money.
You're probably thinking: "What a selfless act of random kindness!" It may have been kind, but it was hardly random. Ever since the hole appeared just after Christmas, this has been a regular, almost weekly occurrence.
As a fit, good-looking man I'm used to women coming up and finding excuses to talk to me, to touch me. In fact, if I had a pound coin for every time it happened, well, you can do the maths. Don't forget to factor in all the pounds I would have lost if those women hadn't said anything.
This other time, when I was caught travelling on a peak-time train with an off-peak ticket, the (female) train manager smiled and said to me: "I should charge you the full single peak rate, sir, but this time I'll just charge you the difference." My savings, in this case, amounted to nearly £12.
It's not always about money, though. There was the lady on a flight to New York who, apropos of nothing, suddenly turned and offered me a breath mint. Just last November a woman I've never met stopped me outside a supermarket to give me a poppy. The incidents may be varied, but the reason is always the same: my exceptional outward appearance. While I admit I'm no Philip Schofield, I'm tall, slim, brooding – and very easy on the eye.
If you're a woman reading this – or, more importantly, looking at the pictures – you will know exactly what I'm talking about: you probably feel like telling me there's a wasp near my hair, just so you can reach out and muss it up a little.
If you're a man, on the other hand, you've doubtless already formed an opinion about me. You almost certainly find me a threat – a threat to your career, your relationship, your masculinity. It's not something many men will dare to speak publicly about, but being terribly, terribly handsome is a double-edged sword. For every female Starbucks employee who made it her business to remember my name, there was a male employer telling me to do up my top three shirt buttons in the office. I can't tell you how many male acqaintances have stopped speaking to me over the years for petty "reasons" (unpaid debts, being alleged source of unpleasant rumour, refusal to appear as character witness), when jealousy is the transparent cause. I'll probably never know how many women have been too intimidated by my looks to talk to me, but I know exactly how many men have been angered enough by my face to try to punch it.
I don't invite the attention. I've come to dread the sarcastic, whispered comments in the gym about my physique, my chiseled jaw, my loose-hanging tank tops. At times I've found it so stressful that I've even taken steps to play down my physical beauty. I tried wearing a hoodie all day, but they wouldn't let me into Harrod's food hall, where the lady at the cheese counter sometimes gives me free samples, even though I hardly ever buy anything. More recently I decided to grow a beard, just to blend in with "normal" men. It helps a little, but there are only so many parts of a face a beard can cover. You can't grow hair on soulful, beseeching eyes, for example. Also, stuff gets caught in a beard – food, small leaves, postage stamps – which just gives women another excuse to strike up a conversation, and their jealous partners another reason to roll their eyes.
Perhaps you're quite a good-looking bloke yourself, and have experienced a fraction of the bastardness I've encountered at the hands (and once or twice, the boots) of insecure, embittered males. Maybe you can in some small measure empathise with how difficult it is to live in a society where a man is constantly expected to look his best, but is then punished for looking better than anyone else. Is it any wonder that Piers Morgan has moved to the US?
I know some people (men) will feel obliged to cast aspersions on my looks – believe me, I've heard it all before – but I won't apologise for the truth. I can already anticipate the global backlash my courageous honesty will generate: the nasty tweets, the threatening emails, the bad-mouthing from Jeremy Vine (it's beneath you, Jeremy, it really is). That won't stop me. I'm prepared to meet my critics face to face, on social media, to put my case. I've dug down and exposed an issue very few gorgeous men are prepared to talk about. And I intend to keep right on digging. After all, your hatred only proves my point.
Blackadder
Brighton Bhuna Boy
Well she's not hideous, is she? but not as great as she thinks she is.
Sussex Nomad
Well-known member
I'd rather have my life of anonymity than be seen by a few million people as something of an unhinged nutter personally.
sydney
tinky ****in winky
no she isn't old man , and if you don't stick your head out no one can slap it .....kapische...?? i doubt i would root her to be brutally honest and i love blonde birds.
sydney
tinky ****in winky
bollocks.
sydney
tinky ****in winky
What?? It is bollocks and thats the point.
:snigger: sorry no need tohttps://nortr3nixy.nimpr.uk/images/smilies/smiley.gif
sydney
tinky ****in winky
Blackadder
Brighton Bhuna Boy
Yes son, I do.
Washie
Well-known member
I would'nt call her back after a one nighter
The_Viper
Well-known member
I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of a one nighter.
I understand her going YOU MAD LOL COZ U R BEING HORRIBLE U JUST HATERZ TOO M' I RITE!?
But how can she explain the complete mass of males telling her she's nothing special as well? Are we no longer attracted to her because we're jealous too? LOL.
I understand her going YOU MAD LOL COZ U R BEING HORRIBLE U JUST HATERZ TOO M' I RITE!?
But how can she explain the complete mass of males telling her she's nothing special as well? Are we no longer attracted to her because we're jealous too? LOL.
Billy the Fish
Technocrat
I'd definitely give her the pleasure of a one nighter with me..
It would consist mainly of Dry speed-bummings and donkey punches
It would consist mainly of Dry speed-bummings and donkey punches