GIRL COOTIES

Re: girls cooties

brendalee wrote:

Now your done forever and now live in the land of girl cooties.

I really really like this.

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Steve 41oo wrote:

oh good i like crustaceans

any spare gus?

Cooties appear to be American for any unwanted small beastie infestation.

In "To Kill a Mockingbird" they are how head lice are referred to.

As to the crabs, they are the nether tiny ones, intimately acquired, that are referred to.

I suspect fleas might be "cooties"?

Those of us who speak proper English would speak of "girl germs" and "boy germs" in this context.

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Cooties might live in a cooter.

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But here Set has been referring to the particular and invisible kind of girl cooties, the kind that make a man ask what time "So you think you can dance?" is on?

The kind that gives a man an uneasy feeling unless he is picking up his discarded underwear off the bedroom floor while completely ignoring the sixth inning of the Red Sox game against Chicago.

The kind that makes a man into the pathetic pressedfoam version of a man called "sensitive guy".

You get them by being around women. Or I should say you get them by being around women who are fully clothed and standing upright. Men cannot get girl cooties from naked women. That's a fact. You can look it up.

If a man spends too much time with a clothed woman watching what she wants on television, he suddenly starts actually understanding how wearing a trouser that fits at the hip but that drops straight down can be slimming to the fuller figure AND worse, starts thinking it's important for him to know that. A man like that cannot answer the question "How does this look on me?" by saying "Okay." NO, he will start pointing out how the bustline needs to be just a little lower to provide a balance with the .....
you get the idea.

It's not long before he is going along on shopping trips willingly. Enjoying the adventure of watching and (horrors maybe) trying on thirty or forty pairs of shoes. And looking at Coach bags for an hour or two.

He no longer shaves leaving little thistles here and there on his face, but uses a pre-cream lathering gel to moisten every inch of his beard. He leaves the kitchen spotless and re-fills the ice trays as he uses them. And he uses the ice to reduce the bags under his eyes, not to splash in four fingers of rotgut.

It is over for him.

Joe(Might as well just ducktape his genitals firmly to his buttcheeks)Nation

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Joe Nation wrote:

But here Set has been referring to the particular and invisible kind of girl cooties, the kind that make a man ask what time "So you think you can dance?" is on?

The kind that gives a man an uneasy feeling unless he is picking up his discarded underwear off the bedroom floor while completely ignoring the sixth inning of the Red Sox game against Chicago.

The kind that makes a man into the pathetic pressedfoam version of a man called "sensitive guy".

You get them by being around women. Or I should say you get them by being around women who are fully clothed and standing upright. Men cannot get girl cooties from naked women. That's a fact. You can look it up.

If a man spends too much time with a clothed woman watching what she wants on television, he suddenly starts actually understanding how wearing a trouser that fits at the hip but that drops straight down can be slimming to the fuller figure AND worse, starts thinking it's important for him to know that. A man like that cannot answer the question "How does this look on me?" by saying "Okay." NO, he will start pointing out how the bustline needs to be just a little lower to provide a balance with the .....
you get the idea.

It's not long before he is going along on shopping trips willingly. Enjoying the adventure of watching and (horrors maybe) trying on thirty or forty pairs of shoes. And looking at Coach bags for an hour or two.

He no longer shaves leaving little thistles here and there on his face, but uses a pre-cream lathering gel to moisten every inch of his beard. He leaves the kitchen spotless and re-fills the ice trays as he uses them. And he uses the ice to reduce the bags under his eyes, not to splash in four fingers of rotgut.

It is over for him.

Joe(Might as well just ducktape his genitals firmly to his buttcheeks)Nation

So...what happens to us when we get BOY cooties?

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dlowan wrote:

So...what happens to us when we get BOY cooties?

High fives, football (American or European), beer, and fart jokes.

Shewolf, for example, has a severe infestation of boy cooties.

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Girls, being more cooperative than boys, immediately administer a cootie injection to a fallen comrad.

This involves probing your index finger into the infected girls bicep or thigh, and pushing down on the invisible plunger with your thumb.

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In Pennsylvania, in the late 60s, early 70s, cootie injections were performed by making a fist and pushing the middle knuckle up, then pressing said knuckle into the flesh of the victim, thereby clearing the victim of the infestation.

Cootie duty. {shnort}

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Steve 41oo wrote:

i really really hestitate to ask...

but what are cooties?

Is it something an English gentleman should be familiar with?

'Cooties' are the American version of lurgies. Perhaps more Holywood-like, I think.

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jespah wrote:

In Pennsylvania, in the late 60s, early 70s, cootie injections were performed by making a fist and pushing the middle knuckle up, then pressing said knuckle into the flesh of the victim, thereby clearing the victim of the infestation.

Cootie duty. {shnort}

Yes, and it was practiced by many a bully or older sibling (often the same thing). You'd find the younger, more vulnerable set conspicuously absent when someone was on "cootie duty".

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see, boys don't know about this important ****....that's why they gots cooties.

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girl cooties
After reading the posts from yesterday I had a very bad dream all about cooties. It brought back very vivid memories of when my daugher, 12 at time had a sleep over and one of her chums had lice.

All of our household was attacked as well as all her chums .

It took about 2 months to get rid of these nasty jumpers.

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It's a sad day, indeed, when a grown man, a manly man, a man's man can't contend with a few girl cooties. He was so terrified of girl cooties that he revealed to the a2k world that he was exposed to the cooties without even knowing whether he caught them or not.

A sad day, indeed. And yet another of my bubbles boist.

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Well, it's a damned good thing nobody can see my unnerwears, 'cause if folks knew i was wearing Winnie the Pooh shorts, i'd never hear the end of it.

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If it's any consolation, setanta, the Pooh shorts (Winne the, not the brown variety) aren't very feminine unless you've contracted the cooties of a 19-year-old sorority girl. No worries there.

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Sor whores have special, high-grade toxic cooties--i won't even go into that part of town . . .

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Dunno about that. Seems to me the Brazilian wax gives the cooties nowhere to hide.

Or maybe it just drives them out into clothing and desperate to infest a more hirsute host.

I may have to reconsider my cootie-avoidance strategies.

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What happens when a woman gets boy cooties???

Well.

I knew a woman with boy cooties, I think I was married to her for awhile, so that kind of makes it all my fault.

At first, you know, I thought it was kind of cool to have someone around who would not only drink beer straight from the bottle, but who would turn down a girl's afternoon at the movies to stay at home with me to watch the Cowboys play the NY Giants. And she insisted on having sex after every Cowboy touchdown with me coming at her from behind so we wouldn't miss any of the game. I didn't have any guy friends who would let me do that, so it was all good.

That is, until she entered the 'I only feel like wearing overalls and a tee-shirt today.' phase which started out being just for Sundays but pretty soon spilled over into just about every day.

Two other things happened, she stopped cooking except to go out to the backyard grill and broil a steak and some sausages. And she forgot how to go the grocery store. Really. She'd go, list in hand, but she would come back without half of the stuff, but she had thrown in a couple of big bottles of olives (they are always good, she said), a huge container of German Potato Salad and barbecued Whole Chicken. (HUh? I guess I was hungry for one.)

She got her hair cropped off short and stopped shaving her legs. She started putting the empty milk container back in the Fridge and left piles of teeshirts and overalls scattered all over the house.

Then she shut up.

I couldn't get more than two words out of her at a time.
"Is everything okay with you?"
"Yeah."
"Is everything okay with us?"
(Sourly) "Oh, here we go."
"I was just wondering if you wanted to talk about anything."
"Er, nope. I'm going to go fire up the grill."

Maybe I wasn't married to her. I remember the day I left, I was loading the car with my stuff and I looked up and there she was on the roof, fixing that shingle that had gotten loose.

Joe(She was whistling The Dallas Cowboys Fight Song.)Nation

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I love you, Joe Nation.

Sounds like you traded cooties, though. Which, to my mind, ain't so bad. I've always had a soft-hard spot for bull-dykes. (For anyone inclined to take offense at that, I type with complete seriosity.)

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And, apropos of nothing, I'm kicking myself in the ass right now for missing Gogol Bordello last time they were in town. Right up the damn street, too. ****.

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