The Rugby World Cup has started and I’ve realised it is definitely going to affect my love life.
No-one is available for anything except sport.
The bars are overcrowded with men drinking beer and yelling at the television set.
Men who ignore women.
Men who are irrational and men who yell insanely when you walk in front of the television set.
Men who have forgotten what it is like to bath, shave or even go to work.
But actually, none of that matters.
Because we women have taken over!
It’s us girls who are totally into the World Cup. We’re the ones sipping cocktails and keeping our eye on the ball. We’re the ones getting pissed off when our rugby conversations are interrupted. We’re the ones yelling:
‘SIT DOWN DAMMIT MOVE AWAY YOU’RE BLOCKING OUR VIEW.’
We’re passionately talking loose forwards, hookers and flanks. We’re getting heated over penalties, rucks and knock ons.
And we’re emotionally following France, New Zealand and South Africa. Especially Number 2, 12 and 7.
We are in fact most intense about Fiji’s Number 11, Nemani Nadolo.
As well as Wallaby Will Genia and All Black Dan Carter.
We’re loving watching these huge men, these muscular men, these men with their incredible six packs and tattoos running fiercly down the wing, ball in hand, hair flying in the wind. We’re loving their tight shirts and teeny shorts and bulges in all the right places.
We’re kinda enjoying objectifying these glorious men and we’re really sorry we’re doing it.
But it’s a little like what men do to women in sport.
And it’s such fun.
Viva le World Cup Rugby 2015, Viva. And come on SOUTH AFRICA!!!!
Wallaby, Israel Folau.