'Well shaggable': Complimentary phrases about women it's best women don't hear

MEN are powerfully complimentary about women when talking among themselves, but the language they use can be somewhat forthright: 

‘Well shaggable’ 

Every woman knows she is, at the least, shaggable due to her possession of a vagina. Upping the ante to ‘well’ doesn’t impress. The inference that whether they may shag or not is up to you is proven wrong by the fact that if you’re heard using this term you will not get a shag.


Nothing to do with her gym regime and planned September half-marathon, which she’d be pleased you’d noticed, more a reference to attractiveness unchanged from GCSE days. No man has ever got laid by saying ‘Hi, you’re really fit’.


Defining a woman by describing her as still attractive even though she’s had kids is something men consider a huge compliment. Even though her fanny has been through it and her breasts repurposed as a food source, you still would. Though men know not to say this directly to the MILF in question.

‘Legs that go all the way to the top’

The top of where? Her head? Contrary to popular male belief, ladies don’t have long, slender legs purely to give you something to ogle. They walk on them. Wearing a miniskirt because it’s boiling outside is not a signal to you.

‘Jugs on that’ 

Because a woman has large bosoms, you reduce her to the indefinite article? You don’t have to be a grammarian to know that’s f**ked up. Women do not love being defined solely by the size of their breasts, and are less proud of large boobs than you imagine. They prefer you to pretend not to notice.

‘Gagging for it’

Perhaps the most primal example of projection, where a man states something about another that is actually true of themself. In this case that they are so desperate for sex they wrongly project this on a woman passing on the street, who overheard and is incredibly turned-off.

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Eight corporate jobs they also have in hell

THE office is already hell if it’s not air-conditioned, but which of your colleagues are earmarked for plum jobs in the pit of the damned?

Security guard

On our earthly plane, Jim on security won’t let you in without your pass even though you’ve seen him every day for a decade. In the netherworld he becomes Charon, the boatman on the river Styx, and if you have no money for your fare he will say ‘sorry love’ and ‘it’s more than my job’s worth’.

Finance manager

On earth, the finance manager leads other, lesser demons to torment mortals whose sales projections are not up to date. In Hell, they take it up a notch, punishing sinners by attending strategy meetings that are none of their business which last all eternity.

Tech guy

On earth, the IT guy spends most of his time in a subterranean, chilly universe called the Server Room. In the bowels of hell, IT guys are promoted to torment suffering souls trying to reset their password by branding them with it again and f**king again.

Strategy analyst

On earth they have an air of palpable smugness that hints at their stupidly inflated salary. Down below they do things like propose a company merger with the Buddhist underworld or naraka that brings plaudits from Satan and pure, seething hatred from everyone else.

Compliance and risk manager

When living, their job is to think of every terrible thing that might befall a person so they can avoid corporate liability. It’s the same role in Hades but there demons use it as more of a to-do list.


On earth a gatekeeper to the CEO with stylish blonde highlights and a nasty bite. Post-damnation they assume their true form as Cerberus the snarling hell-hound, receptionist of the gates of Hell and keeper of Lucifer’s diary.

Social events manager

Social events managers pick events no one wants to do, divide people into groups and make them run around in distress, which is straight from Dante. In the underworld they add flipcharts, force hapless sinners to brainstorm and say ‘there are no bad ideas’.

Social media manager

In hell as on Earth, desperately trying to go viral by tweeting sassy interactions with other brands, eventually going too far with the message ‘Branston Pickle pussy be wild yo’, and summoning the foulest monsters from the pit. It’s a mess only PR people could clean up. Fortunately Hell is crawling with them.