Letters to the Editor
Amerigo
Published Letters: 955 Editor's Choice: 60
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Calendar girls
[Read the article: Girlies for a good cause]
[Read more letters about this article: Here]Ryanair is actually one of the world's most successful airlines in term of profits and meteoric growth and operates 516 routes across 26 countries. It also has an extremely brash image and has built its success on offering rock bottom fares and bringing air travel to the masses.
But not without problems. From Wikipedia:
In October 2006, Ryanair was voted the world's most disliked airline in a survey by the TripAdvisor website...
Ryanair negotiates extremely aggressive contracts with its airports, demanding very low landing and handling fees as well as financial assistance with marketing and promotional campaigns. In subsequent contract renewal negotiations, the airline plays airports off against each other, threatening to withdraw services and deploy the aircraft elsewhere if the airport does not make further concessions...
There have been at least four cases of mishandled hazardous landing approaches by Ryanair pilots between July 2004 and June 2006... (a) report said the captain failed to comply with standard operating procedures and ignored the advice of the co-pilot. Ryanair has been criticized for demanding turnaround times of 25 minutes, putting pilots under severe pressure...
So this is not your father's airline. It makes it money by shoveling drunken Brits and fighting Irish into aircraft and unloading them on the Spanish Costas where they can enjoy the booze, birds, and beaches without severely denting their unemployment checks.
As such a calendar featuring cabin crew in bikinis is probably a pretty good marketing tool (if I may be so bold as to use tht word in this forum) and the name of Ryanair will be prominently displayed in numerous car repair shops and student dorms.
No doubt those who lent their bodies to this worthy cause got some benefit from it--maybe a free weekend of extreme Pole dancing in Gdansk.
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The boy is father to the man
[Read the article: After my husband died of cancer I found he'd been cheating]
[Read more letters about this article: Here]A couple of people commented on my anecdote in an earlier letter about how as fourteen year old boys I and my pals discussed raping women if we knew a nuclear holocaust was imminent.
This was just an example of how intimations of mortality work to weaken compliance with social norms, but also an example of how the minds of 14-year-old boys work.
What a lot of women, especially here, don't seem to realise is that there is not a whole lot of difference between 14-year-old boys and adult men--except that they are older and have driver's licences and credit cards.
If you don't understand 14-year-old boys, then you will never understand adult men.
When I see people writing stuff like We are all imperfect, not all of us deceive the people we have vowed to honor and respect I see a major disconnect in consciousness.
Men recite their marriage vows with fear and trepidation, but hope for the best. They do not feel that the occasional discreet sexual pecadillo is in any way related to dishonoring or disrespecting their wife. They are just concerned that if they are caught they may have to fork out for a granite counter top or some Jimmy Choo shoes as a blood payment.
How can any of us say what we might do if we were told we had a week to live. Those women who believe their husband would want to curl up on the sofa and pop a video of Brief Encounter into the DVD are frankly psychotic.
Ladies, no matter what men say in their wedding vows, and even if they put their notarized signature on the marriage certificate, frame it, and hang it in the kitchen, there is not a man alive who will castrate himself rather than fuck any other woman other than you. If you believe otherwise you are like the person with the pitbull who believes that their doggy-woggy loves pussy cats and would not hurt a flea.
The LW has gone through terribly traumatic events and her husband is dead of cancer. She needs all the support she can get from friends, family, church, and maybe even call in the dreaded therapist, the shaman of modern American tribes, if all else fails. She needs to get angy, she needs to curse the fucker, she needs to cry, she needs to abreact.
Like King Lear she needs to cry:
Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones:
Had I your tongues and eyes, I’d use them so
That heaven’s vault should crack. [S]he’s gone forever!
I know when one is dead, and when one lives;
[S]he’s dead as earth.
And then, when she is done with that, somewhere down the line she needs to move on with her life and find a man whose idea of fun is sitting down with the wife to watch a nice video,and when her son is 14, she will know where he inherited any bad tendencies he might display and she can have him castrated if she still feels the same. They say pitbulls are much happier that way, too.
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The pictures...
[Read the article: Girlies for a good cause]
[Read more letters about this article: Here]You can see the pictures on the Web site Daily Mail of November 16th, or via Google. (Funny how so many Broadsheet stories come from that source.)
They are a lot of fun. The girls have great smiles, and I particularly like the one of Miss January posing in the c*ckpit of an aircraft and Miss July demonstrating how to hold a large wrench when bent backwards over an aircraft wheel.
I would certainly feel very happy and safe to be in the hands of these professionals, whether in the cockpit or performing routine maintenance tasks.
Typically Broadsheet fails to mention that proceeds from the calendar are going to a children's charity called Angels Quest.
Mission statement:
Angels Quest seeks the provision of purpose designed respite care facilities for children and young adults with intellectual and physical disabilities. A welcoming, reliable home-from-home which gives families a much needed break, with peace of mind, from the continuous demands of caring at home for their 'angel’ with special needs.
So female Ryanair employees are doing something for disabled children.
Shame on them.