Our thanks to Elizabeth for this piece in the Irish Examiner.

Our thanks to Mike P for this.

Enjoy.

Our thanks to James for this. An extract:

Giselle said she was ‘shocked’ by the outrage against women selling her virginity, describing it as a ‘form of emancipation.’

Ah, yes. Prostitution as a ‘form of emancipation’. I’m sure Julie Bindel would concur.

The piece has attracted a lot of comments. I particularly enjoyed this from ‘peach’ in Swansea:

They PAY themselves for a photo shoot then class themselves as models I know because my sister has done it and she’s got a head like a wasp.

Our thanks to James for this piece penned by a whiny feminist. The start of the piece:

We’ve all heard the rib-jabbing comments about makeup that some men like to spout, from “Take her swimming on the first date” to “This is why I have trust issues.” All these comments allude to the fact that a person somehow “tricks” their date if they show up to dinner with highlighter and mascara on. Apparently, this fear has grown to such exponential heights that one man has now invented an app that digitally wipes makeup off any photo uploaded to the service. Real world problems, and we get this bullshit.

The app is called MakeApp, and its the creation of Russian founder Ashot Gabrelyanov. The digital “miracle” lets you wipe away the cosmetics from five photos for free before asking you to pay $0.99 to continue editing images and videos.

Yesterday I had the pleasure of attending the third International Men’s Day debate in the House of Commons, in the Grand Committee Room of Westminster Hall. My thanks to Natoya and Raymond for joining me. We’ll be publishing the debate on our YouTube channel in the next few days. A piece in Philip Davies’s local paper.

Our thanks to Mike P for this.

From time to time we receive modest cash sums from anonymous donors. Last week we received at our London office a £5 note, with a small note on which was handwritten:

Donation

5 Nicker

Thanks

I know from the postmark that it was sent by someone in the North-West, but that’s all. So I’d like to thank the person – I assume it’s a man, but can’t be sure – and all those who send us cash sums from time to time, whether anonymously or not. Rest assured the money ends up in the J4MB coffers, and is used to support our work.

Our London office address is Justice for Men & Boys, Kemp House, 152 City Road, London EC1V 2NX.

An interesting piece. I’ve just posted some comments, and invite you to do so too. Silence is not a characteristic of most J4MB supporters.

Our thanks to Jake for this, a lengthy piece in the Daily Mail in January 2016. Excerpts:

Then there was the devastating spat with married Tory MP Andrew Bridgen, who was accused of touching her inappropriately during an evening that ended with her fleeing his apartment in tears.

She was then investigated by police for concocting the entire episode. His marriage has since broken up.

The investigation dragged on for two agonising years, during which time she has been effectively barred from answering the damaging allegations. But today, she is finally free to speak after police decided to take ‘no further action’ in the case – and, truly furious, she is making up for lost time…

Pressed for the absolute truth, Annabelle says today: ‘I did not have an affair with Nigel Farage.

‘That rumour, started by bored tedious people – possibly within Ukip – is almost like an urban legend.

‘I go for hunky army types, which Nigel is not. He’s a nice person but he’s just not my type: he doesn’t have muscles – and he’s not single. His sons are my age. I admire him an awful lot. He’s incredibly brave and strong and determined.’

It wasn’t until the Andrew Bridgen incident in 2011 that Annabelle’s life began to really unravel, however.

The facts of what happened that night remain blurred.

Annabelle says she felt a hand on her leg – but can’t be sure [J4MB emphasis] – while she, Bridgen and civil servant Edward Green were smoking on Bridgen’s balcony after he invited them back to his London flat following a drinking session. 

Bridgen strongly denies this happened and she herself admits she might well have over-reacted.

What is clear is that Annabelle was genuinely alarmed. ‘I didn’t know where the hell I was. I didn’t know these people. I felt they could take advantage of me,’ she says.

‘I should have gone home that night. Really, if I could change one thing in my life I would have gone home.’

She maintains that the building’s security guard called the police after seeing her fleeing from Bridgen’s flat with a gashed forehead and lip – the result of running into a wall…

At Charing Cross Police Station in Central London, she had to hand over the bottom half of her clothes and make a statement.

‘I was thinking why on earth did I start down this chain of events. I wasn’t in a fit state to give a statement. I was drunk and scared.’

In her view it is yet another example of the police mishandling a claim – or in this case a non-claim – of sexual abuse. Later that day she was woken up by the police to say that Bridgen had been arrested.

‘I said I didn’t want to press charges. They said they could go through with it without my co-operation because I’d given a statement. It was really quite intimidating.

‘I think questions have to be raised about them taking a statement from someone who was drunk. I didn’t know I was giving a statement and had I known, I would have said no.’

Details soon emerged in public. ‘I think Mr Bridgen should have kept his anonymity. I felt sorry for him at that point,’ she says.

The police dropped the charges a few days later, but the damage was done. ‘Bridgen threatened to sue me and accused me of breaking up his marriage. I find it astonishing. You invite a young girl [J4MB: Our emphasis. Fuller was 30 at the time] back to your flat, you take some responsibility.’

It says a lot about Ms Fuller’s psychology that at 34 she referred to her drunk 30-year-old self as a ‘young girl’, presumably to absolve herself of responsibility. No man would refer to his 30-year self, drunk or otherwise, as a ‘young boy’.