Apparently a bar opened a couple of nights ago in Australia.

As part of the grand opening festivities they had some slightly unusual plates for fruit for the punters.

Fruit Platter

Now I would be only too happy to pluck a grape off that, but it seems some people were somehow offended.

In fact Melanie James considers this "unacceptable".


Hot on her heels comes Sandra Eckersley who considers it "TOTALLY unacceptable".


Then there is Helen McDonald who describes it as "horrifying".


Who are these paragons of virtue who set standards for what is acceptable and what isn't?  What fucking business is it of theirs? 

I note these Twitter users [and they are indeed almost the very definition of the Twitter Great Outraged] use one of those tags "#destroythejoint" which surely implies incitement to violence?  I find that TOTALLY unacceptable.

I will assume for the sake of argument that these fruit platters were not drugged, were happy and willing to do the job and were well paid so I can't see what can possibly be unacceptable about anything?

Possibly these moral police were pissed that there were topless blokes there but who weren't acting as plates?  Hence the claim of "classic misogyny"?

There is a very good reason why women are suitable as plates and men aren't.  You see a man can lie prone and have fruit placed all over him including his floppy parts.  But a situation might arise where an adjoining platter may give him a seductive wink just as her strategically placed bunch of grapes is removed, or indeed some innocent customer might give one of his plumbs a gentle squeeze, in which case his floppy bits may suddenly cease to be floppy and he might rise to the occasion?  Someone reaching for a banana might find themselves holding something quite unexpected?

We couldn't have that?

That would be unacceptable.

Personally I think it's a brilliant way to get people to eat more fruit?

I just wish they'd introduce it here.

It would give a whole new meaning to my "5 a day".

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Unacceptable — 11 Comments

  1. One of our local artistes held a similar invite-only do at their gallery last fall. As it happens I had been (unintentionally,  I'm sure) nice to someone who knew someone who sent me me a free ducat, so I went.There were an even half dozen naked lasses lain about on highly polished mahogany tables, bedecked with various foods; one lass was a seafood platter, another a veggie and dip tray, of course one was adorned with fruit, et cetera, et aliae. The ladies weren't supposed to talk at while presenting the evening's fare, but I did chat up one after the food had been removed. She and the others were all artists' models, so the gig that night was no more or less than what they were used to, with a few exceptions:1.A couple of the guests seemed to be fumble-fingered, grasping a touch more than food;2. The gig was better paid,3. The hardest part -the ladies were unanimous in this- was keeping their legs closed.She said that keeping your legs closed, with toes pointed upward, turned out to be far more strenuous than you might think – it's not a natural position. While prone your feet tend to fall apart a bit, just as the mouth's natural rest position is open.I thought she was having me on, but I tried it later that night and she's right – you have to make a conscious effort to keep those legs closed.Not sure what that means, but I have been reevaluating the amount of physical effort involved by a few of my high school sweethearts in staying "pure."

  2. "Like" buttons?  As in Farcebook?  Jayzus, but aren't all those fancy little buttons under the post enough?  Mind you, I haven't a fucking clue what they do, but they look nice.

    Doc – I propose we go into business together.  I have an idea for the perfect contraceptive – a little piece of plastic in the shape of an 8.  The feminine of the gender can slip it over her big toes and thus preserve her maidenhood.  It will also work with food platters.  I think I could be onto something here?

    • Sure – you will be CEO, Inventor and Chief Publicist.I will do the scutwork, actually fitting the women with the device.I see great things ahead. Or, you know, not…if your device (Grandad's Irish Toe Locks (patent pending) actaully works.

      • What do you mean "if it works"?  Of course it will work.  As with all incredible flashes of utter genius, its brilliance lies in its simplicity.

        You may see great things, but no touching.

    • My ex wife invented something similar.. she was on the pill but instead of swallowing it she put it between her knees, thus preventing me from getting near her.

  3. Heh! Yes, I read this one in the 'Daily Telegraph' yesterday, and was champing at the bit to tear the twatterers apart in the comments, but to my dismay the DT had decided, in their wisdom, that this was not an article they wanted comments on, so  I was left grumbling about fucking stupid feminists and puritans to myself. Grrr! 

  4. I've read the quoted comments, by women, probably feminists:-  "unacceptable", "TOTALLY unacceptable" and "horrifying".  Really ladies, as a liberal I accept your right to "express your strong views" about this "degrading portrayal of womanhood". But as a male pragmatist (and the possibility of the existence of female pragmatists is not ruled out – I'm a liberal remember) I feel moved to advise you about possible action to further your frankly stated views. You can be illiberal (God help us) and demand that governments ban this sort of thing. You can go on protest marches – which is a thing much liked by irate liberals. Or you can get really RADICAL (comes from the Latin radis which means at the roots) and embark on decisive grassroots actions aimed at uprooting this sort of degradation of womanhood. Now in rural Ireland (that was long before the planting of Spanish-style bungalows with tarmac driveways and septic tanks) in the 1920s, the 30s, the 40s and the 50s the Parish Priests of Eire allegedly used to take RADICAL ACTION against immoral hanky panky by amorous youth in the thick hedges of our Fair Land. They allegedly traipsed the country roadways on sunny weekend afternoons [which this year 2015 were eportedly found by holidaymakers only in the Costa del Sol etc.] and poked the hedges with walking sticks in order to "root out" (Latin word: extirpere from which we get the English word extirpiration) the totally unacceptable and horrifying cuddling goings on in them undergrowth biodiversity places. My dear horrified lady feminists, since you are a new moral priesthood (encouraged by your mass media editorial backers) you should dress up as Druid priestesses and take your crozier-shaped walking sticks to the pleasure places where birthday-suited comely maidens are laid flat on banqueting tables and adorned with grapes, apples and other citrus fruits for random picking by Vitamin C-deficient men. And youse should lift up the bunches of grapes deftly with your walking sticks and take them home forthwith to devour personally with your priestly friends.

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