Punannies on the Periphery

You know how, when something comes onto your mental radar – say for example Lime Green Corvettes – and then, all of a sudden, everywhere you look, you see Lime Green Corvettes?

Despite popular perception, Australia does not have a Bill of Rights protecting freedom of speech, including freedom of the press. And although you can say ‘shit’ on prime time television, censorship is an everyday reality here, especially when it comes to pornography. This week the sometimes insightful/sometimes pedantic/sometimes puerile television show Hungry Beast proposed the hypothesis that restrictions on depictions of female genitalia has resulted in a skewed public perception of the anatomy of a vagina, which has in turn resulted in an increased demand for plastic surgery in order to conform to the perceived norm.


Evidently, according to the National Classification Board governing soft porn magazines, graphic depictions of the internal labia are forbidden. Thus graphic artists frequently employ photo editing techniques to ensure that all vulvas have a neat and tidy appearance, which, in my opinion, makes them all look about 13 years old.

Apparently, an adolescence spent expending oneself to such images leaves one completely unprepared for the reality of all those ‘extra bits’, and somehow there has evolved a social pressure to have those unsightly folds trimmed away. How THAT graphic video made it past the censors, I am not entirely sure. However, I was intrigued by the notion that censorship can so skew public opinion that it is coercing women into acts of self mutilation. As if I need another reason to abhor censorship…


Yesterday, my grandmother saw her heart specialist and was told that she would not require another stint to repair a collapsed coronary artery. (Who needs a segue?!) Instead, she has been prescribed a vasodilator to help increase the blood flow to her ventricles. As usual, I did a little research on this medication only to discover it is currently in clinical trials to investigate its effectiveness as a ‘cervical ripener’. I am not entirely sure what that means, but I certainly do not want to think of it in relation to my grandmother.


A Google search of the word 'punanny' brought up an image of Ronald McDonald. Oh, please don’t bother to tell me the real reason. I impose my own brand of censorship to create the reality I choose, and in my reality, Ronald McDonald is a cunt.