Wind or Whore? Wind or Whore?

I’m going to attempt, as best I can, to review the post titled Loud and Clear from www.thefoodwhore.com. I say attempt because it is possible that I won’t make it through to the end of the review without smashing my own face to a bloody pulp with the Alan Alda autobiography that lies, gathering phlegm, on my desk. Why? Because this is the intensity of anger that swelled up in my brain when I read this post.

The main gist, if you will, of this piece is how the Food Whore didn’t want to work with a man (in whatever unknown seedy capacity that might be, I sure as hell won’t be reading any more to find out) because he accidentally broke wind down the telephone at her.

Now, I know a certain misguided proportion of you will be able empathise with her. That empathy however only comes when a certain assumption is made. The assumption that I’m talking about anal wind. Well, I’m not talking about anal wind. I am talking about oral wind. A small belch.

The Food Whore deceptively tries to create the impression that some rude, sweaty-eyed gentleman walked up to her, removed his slacks and underpants, held her head under water for a minute, hauled her up and then pumped a hurricane of anal breath into her open, gasping mouth.

However, if you examine the prose closely, you can see that a working man, on his lunch, calls her up and she cruelly belittles him because she can hear that he’s eating (I’d love to hear her trying to quietly eat a veal and peanut tart whilst chatting on the phone) without bothering to investigate further whether he would have actually had the opportunity to eat at any other time. Should he starve himself to death just for a moment of your time? Isn’t it possible, Food Whore, that he would have preferred to call you when his mouth was free of all culinary obstructions?

The poor gentleman then belches. If you suffer from chronic gas, as I do, you will know that it’s rarely possible to retain any degree of control over your own body. But the Food Whore clearly has no understanding or compassion and, in fact, is trying to make out that she’s never broken wind in her perfect, Annie Hall-like life. The gentleman apologises but instead of trying to comprehend just how embarrassed he must feel she decides that he isn’t worthy of her time. She lies to him. She lies to him and then comes on to the internet to boast of her vicious, callous, black-hearted crime.

Are we supposed to be sympathetic? Amused? The author clearly doesn’t know herself as she loses confidence in her own post and suggests that she should not condemn a man based on one phone call. Well, that’s not true, is it? I would willingly condemn a man if he called me up once and threatened to murder me and carve the screenplay of Dead Poets Society into my dead flesh. An accidental belch, however, I would forgive.

Billy’s Rating: Content – 5/75 Use of Metaphor – 75/100

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1 Response to “Wind or Whore? Wind or Whore?”


  1. 1 Merlin November 5, 2006 at 11:11 am

    “I would willingly condemn a man if he called me up once and threatened to murder me and carve the screenplay of Dead Poets Society into my dead flesh.”

    Ha ha. Brilliant.


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