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Mon 3 Oct, 2005 04:43 pm
Why Women Are Crabby
We started to "bud" in our blouses at 9 or 10 years old, only to find that
anything that came in contact with those tender blooming buds ... hurt so
bad it brought us to tears.
So came the ridiculously uncomfortable training bra contraption, that the boys in school would snap until we had calluses on our backs.
Next, we get our periods in our early to mid-teens (or sooner). Along with
those budding boobs, we bloated, we cramped, we got the hormone crankies; had to wear little mattresses between our legs, or insert tubular packed cotton rods in places we didn't even know we had.
Our next little rite of passage (premarital or not), was having sex for the
first time, which was about as much fun as having a ramrod push your uterus through your nostrils ..(IF he did it right and didn't end up with his
little cart before his horse), leaving us to wonder what all the fuss was
about!
Then it was off to Motherhood, where we learned to live on dry crackers and water for a few months, so we didn't spend the entire day leaning over Brother John. Of course, amazing creatures that we are (and we are), we learned to live with the growing little angels inside us, steadily kicking our innards night and day.. making us wonder if we were preparing to have Rosemary's Baby.
Our once flat bellies looked like we swallowed a watermelon whole, and we pee'ed our pants every time we sneezed. When the big moment arrived, the dam in our blessed Nether Regions invariably burst right in the middle of the mall, and we had to waddle with our big cartoon feet, moaning in pain all the way to the ER.
Then it was huff and puff and beg to die, while the OB says... "Please stop
screaming, Mrs. Hear-me-roar! Calm down, and push. Just one more good push, (more like 10)," warranting a strong, well-deserved impulse to punch the %*#!* (and hubby) square in the nose, for making us cram a wiggling, mushroom-headed 10lb bowling ball through a keyhole.
After that, it was time to raise those angels, only to find that when all
that "cute" wears off, the beautiful little darlings morphed into walking,
jabbering, wet, gooey, snot-blowing, life-sucking little poop machines.
Then come their "Teen Years." Need I say more?
When the kids are almost grown, we women hit our voracious sexual prime in our early 40's - while hubby had his somewhere around the age of 18 yrs. old.
So we progress into the grand finale: "The Menopause," the Grandmother of all womanhood. It's either take HRT and chance cancer in those now seasoned "buds", or the aforementioned Nether Regions, or, sweat like a hog in July, wash your sheets and pillowcases daily and bite the head off anything that moves.
Now, you ask WHY women seem to be more spiteful than men, when men get off so easy, INCLUDING the icing on life's cake: Being able to pee in the woods without soaking their socks...
So, while I love being a woman, "Womanhood" would make the Great Gandhi a tad crabby.
Women are the "weaker sex"? Yeah right. Bite me!
HEHE..is exactly what I thought...LOL
Let's face it - men would have died with their first period,
never mind giving birth, or dealing with menopause.
At least we enter each stage with dignity, while men frantically
search for Viagra.
Give Me 5 CJ.......!!!!
Awww, you are so correct!
I loved how my husband told ME how I would handle childbirth! Like he knew anything about it!!!! (ROLLS EYES)
You failed to mention the horrendous trials and tribulations that women have to go through when they have to master the art of driving.
<dives for cover>
Ha! Who else but a woman could manage the steering wheel while drinking coffee, applying make-up, change the CD drive,
breaking up a food fight between the kids, and stay in line
without engaging in road rage or other typical testosterone
challenging activities played out on the road.
God, I don't see how half the population copes with all this.
There! Feel all better, now?
I've been a woman for 44 years and I rather enjoy it. There isn't anything on that list that I can really relate to. Maybe that's why I am not crabby (or whiney).
Hogs don't sweat. Get your facts straight.
Green Witch wrote:I've been a woman for 44 years and I rather enjoy it. There isn't anything on that list that I can really relate to. Maybe that's why I am not crabby (or whiney).
Not crabby or whiney, eh? Enjoying things, wot?......
It is not often that I do this GW, but having read your post, I feel that you have now reached the required mental stage, to enable me to bestow upon you the title of "Honorary Bloke".
You are now fully entitled to belch, fart, spit and swear freely. You may also stop using underarm deoderant.
To avoid the tedium of clothes laundering, you are also permitted to turn your underwear inside out after each working day, thereby doubling its wear duration.
If you wish to advance to the Stage 2 Honorary Bloke, you must practise the fine art of fiddling with your genitalia in public in such a way, so that everyone notices. Hair implants can be obtained for the plumbers crack, and you must have a reasonable knowledge of most sports trivia.
There is no need to thank me.......
Hmmm...mildly tempting offer Lord E., but I think I'll keep to my female hygiene. However, if I get to drink directly out of the juice container in the refrigerator and would be allowed to use the less crowded men's room at the theatre, I might reconsider.
Aww, Lord Ellpus Darlin'...you have never ridden with me....? LOL
Quote:Posted: Tue Oct 04, 2005 2:33 am Post subject:
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You failed to mention the horrendous trials and tribulations that women have to go through when they have to master the art of driving.
I am Dale Jr. in a women's body driving a big black Tahoe! LOL
Wanna ride?
Quote:Ha! Who else but a woman could manage the steering wheel while drinking coffee, applying make-up, change the CD drive,
breaking up a food fight between the kids, and stay in line
without engaging in road rage or other typical testosterone
challenging activities played out on the road.
CJ...I knew of a women once that used to drive a station wagon, she kept a yard stick on the dash...lol Once her sister questioned her over the yard stick and its purpose. It wasn't long till she found out! Her sister who was driving at the time of the question....reached up and grabbed it, and swatted three big ole boys in the back seat of the wagon....Answering her sisters question! LOL
How come men never get any credit for taking out the garbage?
what, exactly, does "taking out the garbage" mean?
Because men don't really take out the garbage gustav.
They open it, stew around and take half the crappola
back into the house for they think it is still usable and
an utter shame to throw out perfectly recycable items.
Physical indignities? Life comes with physical indignities.
My rage is provoked by the majority of men who believe that Women Exist to Listen. A majority of that majority believe that Women Exist to Listen Reverently.
There are a lot of Southern Baptist men out there that have never been immersed (except in womanly courtesy).
Noddy, sometimes I feel that I was born to listen.
With my thorough understanding of the female physiology, my grasp of their needs, wants and desires, it is quite understandable really.
Sometimes, when the hunting season has ended and there is no sport on the TV, I find myself sitting and listening for periods of up to ten minutes whilst the good Lady E witters on and on about things that are obviously important to the female mind.
I have now perfected the art of giving a short affirmative or negative response during those rare lulls when some form of signal is required.
I find that simultaneously doing the Times crossword helps, in order to keep ones mind active, as she tends to get rather irate when I start snoring during such blatherings.
I feel that I am doing my bit to help her through her day, and seek no reward or praise for my inconvenience, and would urge every male to make a similar effort (sporting commitments taken into consideration, of course) so that one day, every man will be able to consider himself as modern and caring as me.
At this time of the month Lady E is particularly wittery due to her female Mormons that cause her minstrel cycle. Therefore, your moral support for me at this time of particular inconvenience, would be greatly appreciated.
Thank you.
Lord E--
Translatlantic moral support? No problem. I exist to absorb.
At some point--in my spare time--I may write a best-selling satiric novel.
Or I may be too busy listening to men rather than to the muse.
Noddy24 wrote:My rage is provoked by the majority of men who believe that Women Exist to Listen. A majority of that majority believe that Women Exist to Listen Reverently.
Change Women to Others. Narcissists of the world unite! Preferably under about 9 feet of water.