harrumph! still crazy

tuesday, april 24

Fruit cake

There is only one good rational for PMS.

PMS reassures you that you are not the bitch you think you might be. Those x number of days a month when we're supposed to be revelling in the joys of what it is to be a woman?

Bah!

PMS introduces you to "anti-you." The anti-you that shouldn't leave the house or get behind the wheel of a car. The anti-you that pushes little old ladies out of line at the bus stop. The anti-you that other women bitch about in the advice columns of Cosmo.

"I work with Carol*. Most days she's really great. Really fun to work with, but some days, Carol is such a bitch! What's up with that?"

It's a crap shoot as to how anti-you will navigate through the various slings and arrows that life tosses our way.

I am Anti Heather!

Hear me roar!

* Completley fictitious crap. There is no Carol. Carol's name wasn't changed from Nancy, Suzette or Francine. Carol is a figment of my imagination. I quite like the name Carol.

Though I could name a few Carol's who were bitchy all month long. Sometimes you just wish it was PMS.

There was a Carol who told one of my employers that I had sex with my dog. For those of you who don't know, I have Chihuahua's. Sex with a Chihuahua? Actually, I guess that she wasn't so much of a bitch, as a complete fruit cake.

I shouldn't malign fruit cake. Fruit cake has it's own issues to deal with. Try being the gift that everyone gives, yet no one wants. That's got to be tough. Why am I bitching and moaning about PMS when I could have the problems of a fruit cake?

Wait a minute...

"Jammers Jamming The Jammers Jamming The Jammers -- Nike's Purported Propaganda Offense" at Plastic. Jammy!

"...condemned to turn on the weenie warmer of the damned." - EOD

Hmmmm. Something is so familiar.

Yesterday? Self-portraits.

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