Crafty Wench Tools: Big Nipples and Big Willy Sold Separately

...Maybe this is why our political system is so fucked up...

My family has a long running tradition of ordering Chinese food on Christmas Eve.

Why? Perhaps we'll never know.

I have a feeling this tradition came about because my Grandmother had six children and didn't want to have to cook a massive, traditional meal for eight, two nights in a row.

So, Iain and I thought we'd carry on the tradition by ordering Chinese food on Boxing Day.

One of the only Chinese take-away shops open in our entire post code is a place I will forever refer to as 'Little Hong Kong' due to the extreme lack of, um, ENGLISH spoken in the shop.

 I honestly felt like I had traveled to China to order my food as the language barrier was about as thick and long as the bloody Great Wall itself.

Thank god we didn't call to order our food, as much pointing, sign language, and interpretive dance was used to just get vegetarian spring rolls, instead of won-tons.

Anyway, as Iain sat mesmerized by the immaculate fiber optics tree, I read the December 8th edition of the London Lite and came across an article entitled, "I got so fed up with builders I became one". Intriguing, no?

This woman named Kerrie Keeling used to be an investment banker, and after one too many run ins with builders that like to "holla" and plumbers that liked to pee in her sink, she started up her own construction business called A Woman's Touch.

At first I was picturing them using pink hammers, wearing yellow, latex overalls ala Benny Bonassi's Satisfaction video. However, I checked out their website, and was seriously fucking impressed.

I won't regurgitate the information for you, as you can check out their website yourself, but let me pause and reflect on how FUCKING AWESOME THIS IS.

Look, I know all builders/construction workers/electricians/plumbers/painters aren't sexist pigs. Nor do you yell at every girl under the age of 75 to come hither, whilst you pretend to wank off with your hammer.  

But for FUCK SAKE it's good to know that there is a woman run company out there that exist PURELY to stand out, has policies and a kick ass philosophy:

We will arrange a mutually agreeable time to visit you and conduct the initial assessment and quotation. We will arrive for the quote promptly, with ID to prove who we are, and in the company van so we're easily identifiable.

All 3 of you that read this post of mine, understand how IMPORTANT THAT IS to me. And just in general. You HAVE to be paranoid as fuck with "plumbers" and "I am Xavier? I here to check gas machine? The meter?".

We will arrive punctually on day one of the job. We work from 9am to 5pm with a 45 minute break for lunch, Monday-Friday. We do not take cigarette breaks [we are all non-smokers] or feeling a bit lazy breaks! We work hard all day, and don't waste time. At the end of each day we pack away all of our equipment and clean up extremely thoroughly (including vacuuming etc).

And they're not even slutty!

I wonder if they take "Porn Breaks" or "Check out this girl with the big tits" breaks...I'm guessing not. I clicked around the website and when I found this quote from Kerrie Keeling,

"I decided to leave banking when I found myself using phrases like 'shifting the goal posts'."

I fell in love with her. I almost wanted to email her and see if she would be okay project managing and designing the interior of 'my precious'.

When first moving to London it was like I was floating on air. Everything was shiny, new, and tinted with my Union Jack colored glasses.

My fat American ass had to get used to walking everywhere, but it was okay! I was in London. Walk? Fuck it, I will skip to the grocery store if you need me to!

My first kick in the nuts that cracked my glorified view of city life was curtesy of a few lovely Builders from a certain scaffolding company. If I knew their name I would link to it and encourage you to send dead pigeons covered in leftover turkey giblets -and perhaps a few turkey necks- their way...But alas, I do not.

The day before, I had been skipping and jiving walking to the store, dressed in jeans and a Tshirt, and had to walk past some builders who were doing god knows what to a building near the cross walk.

"OOooOOOO BABY! DAAAMN!"

Whistle. Whistle. Throw in a few "OW!!!!"s and you get the idea.

I ignored it because, well, I ain't no holla back girl. 

And I certainly didin't want to give them more attention.

A few hours shopping, and I walked my myself back home, and low and behold the Builders were still there..Still, not sure what they were working on, but there they were, perched up on the scaffolding.

"Oi OI OI OI! OoooOOOO BBBBAAAABBBBYYYY!! YOU WANT SOME?  YOU WANT SOME!? LOOK AT THOSE TITS!!!!"

Okay, when you mention my tits, that's going too far. The she-devil inside me was immediately awakened so I flipped them off.

They laughed, they cheered.

Not exactly the reaction I had hoped for.

"Awww BABY! Don't be mad!!!"

So I yelled "FUCK OFF ASSHOLE!" so that the pathetic pig on top on the 5th level could hear me.

Yeah. I told them.

My posse is Bananas! B-A-N-A-N-A-S!

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So, you can imagine my frustration when the next day, I had to walk past them again, and some shirtless sack of bones twat made kissy noises at me and called me "sweet cheeks".

I should have ignored it. But I can't be silent. I couldn't just walk away knowing that I was the better person.

So I flipped him off, again.

Skinny Twat: "OH Yeah? Then why don't you come here and do it?"

Me: "You couldn't handle it, asshole."

There. That was that. Damn I was good. OooOOoooh yes. No one talks to ME like that.

Too bad on my way home, they were still there...again.

The whistles I ignored. The kissing noises. The "Hey Baby"s...

"Oi! Look at those BIG NIPPLES."

Yeah. They called me 'Big Nipples' in front of everyone on the high street.

Me (Big Nipples): "What the FUCK is your problem?"

Him (Skinny Twat): "............."

Me: "Shut the FUCK UP and GET TO WORK."

Him: "....Well..I -er..."

Me: "Why do you yell at girls when you walk by? Does THAT EVER WORK FOR YOU??"

Him: "Eraha...Sometimes. Not today, though."

Me: "Yeah, I pity the bitch that ever falls for your bullshit."

And the whistling and yelling commenced as I walked the rest of my way back home. Stupid, yes. I should have just ignored them because they got the rise out of me that they wanted...

But I couldn't just keep my little girl mouth shut...Especially when they called me 'Big Nipples'. WHO says that?

However, I believe men suffer from same embarassment and harassment that women go through from people who give builders and electricians a bad name...

For example, when we first moved in, our entry phone didn't work. Our landlord is convieniently friends with an electrician, so he showed up one saturday morning with his 4 year old daughter.

Yay. Beacuse I just love children.

No big nipples, nor a big willy.....

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The electrician messed about with entry phone while we tried to keep his daughter entertained with some juggling balls Iain had leftover from his days as a street performer. (I kid...it was Cirque de Sole...)

She was all cute, and would play catch with Iain and giggled as he juggled.

Maybe children really aren't that bad..... 

However, when her dad went downstairs to get some more tools out of his truck, her horns poked out and my left ovary immediately collapsed.

She started pelting the juggling balls at Iain's crotch - with great force.

Her dad came back in the house and scolded her,

"Now, now! Be gentle, darling. That's not polite. Stop that."

However, she continued to hurl the balls at Iain screaming,

"BUT HE'S GOT A BIG WILLY! HE'S GOT A BIG WILLY!!!!!!"

"Goodness! Don't say that! That's very rude, young lady."

"Big wiiiiillllly!!!!"

"Be quiet, darling. That's impolite!"

"BIG WILLY!  HE'S GOT A BIG WIIIIIIILLLY!!!!!!!"

What do you say to that?

"Oh no he doesn't"?

"She's right, actually...."?

Or

"No, not really...It's just these jeans."?

Basically, I think it's fucking wonderful that A Woman's Touch exists. I love it when people take shit into their own hands (hi there, world's grossest metaphor) and take a stand for what is right.

It's not sexist. It is not encouraging further stereotyping.

It's just, why does shit like that go on?

So what if the company is ran by women; men work there, too.

The philosophy behind it logical. The entire POINT of the company is fucking brilliant.

There are a whole fucking lot some "4 Gurlz, BY GURLZ!!!!!1!!1!!" shit out there that I can't stand.

For example, when women act like, "Oh my golly! We've made a contraption so you TOO can pee standing up! Who says it's just for men? Tee-hee!!" or dye a GPS device pink and say "Look! It's girl friendly!".

But this actually makes sense, and is ran by certified electricians, project managers, decorators and builders that know their shit.

It just so happens that its run by women, and markets to women, but it is fucking legitimate. It' DOESN'T HAVE A PINK WEBSITE, their work van isn't covered in pink, fluffy fur, and they don't paint in Manolos.

Kerrie was even given the 2006 Demeter award for female entrepreneurs by IBM.

Very inspiring. If I ever need some serious painting, plumbing, or my entry phone serviced again, we're calling these girls...

Because something tells me the ladies in this video are just pretending....