Image via Wikipedia
WARNING: This blog post contains an abundance of sweary words and a-larger-than-normal-amount-of-ill-humour. Continue at your own peril. You have been warned!
Guys, do you have any idea – any fuckin’ idea – what it’s like to be female? Let me enlighten you…
First up, we have menstruation. Periods. Having the ‘decorators’ in for a week. Once a month, every month for forty flaming years. And that means PMT, ovulation pains, PMT, stomach cramps, PMT, tender boobs, PMT, water retention and PM-fucking-T every month!
And ye Gods, sanitary products! What a choice! It’s a toughie all right – risk toxic shock with tampons, or choose pads that are supposed to stick snugly inside yer knickers. Trouble is, those sticky bits aren’t all that sticky unless, of course, they’ve inadvertently stuck to your pubes, and then, suddenly Houston, we have adhesion! And can you gently prise that gluey stuff away from your hairy bits? No, Siree! There’s only one way those wiry little suckers are coming free, and bugger me, it hurts!
Girls don’t choose Brazilian bikini waxes, you know; they just happen by accident – one month’s worth of battling industrial-strength glue on sanitary towels, and Bingo! The job’s a goodun!
And then we have pregnancy and childbirth, and stretch marks, and piles. Labour, episiotomy scars, stitches. Flabby bellies, droopy boobs and cracked nipples.
We become mummies, fine-tuned to the needs of our offspring. We hear a baby cry – any baby- and whoosh! our boobs are spurting milk. And do our female hormones have any respect for time or place, any sense of decorum? No! A cry, a kitten’s mewing, even the sound of a friggin’ garden strimmer, and boy! It’s lunchtime! It doesn’t matter if you’re in Tesco, or having lunch with the in-laws – whoosh! Soaking wet tee-shirt and skimmed milk dripping off your nipples.
Image via Wikipedia
We nurture, we teach, we nurse those babies through childhood, and illness and puberty, and then the little bastards grow up and leave home! And us mummies are left, abandoned, bereft and pube-less! And daddies say, ‘Great! More time for me on the X-Box!’
And we suffer cystitis and thrush and cervical-bloody-smears. And society tells us we’re only attractive if we look like Barbie. I mean, seriously, have you ever heard a woman say, ‘Oh God, I love a bloke with great big balls’?
No, I thought not.
And grey hair on a guy says mature and distinguished. On a woman, it screams haggard old cow! And let’s not even mention the menopause or bleeding non-stop for three years or cervical-bastarding-biopsies! And once we hit our fifties, we need breast-screening. Ho ho! I’m looking forward to that one; you have to flop your boob out on this kind of ledge thing, and the machine sort of squishes it flat between two plates before taking an x-ray. Well, what if you don’t have enough boob to squash? I just know I’m gonna struggle – I’ll be up on tip-toes, lurching forward, trying to make the most of gravity, and the plates are just gonna slam together, missing my puppies but slicing off my nipples!
Image via Wikipedia
And blokes moan because they have to shave once a day! Helloo! We’ve gotta shave, too, y’know, and not just our faces; we’ve gotta do legs, underarm, chins and bikini lines. Now both of my boys have super-duper top-of-the-range, rechargeable, gliding action razors for a soft, smooth skin finish. Neither of ’em has more than a smattering of upper-lip bum-fluff. Me? I have sub-tropical, dense foliage and a rusty old Bic disposable!
Image by davidgreystahl via Flickr
Guys, go home and make the woman in your life a cup of tea, give her a massage, take her out for dinner. Being female isn’t all about glittery nail polish and fluffy pink jumpers, you know.
Prince Charming, my arse! 
LMAO!! Rant baby rant! You nailed it!
Here in the states, yearly breast exams start at 40. I’ve been having my boobs squooshed for 9 years now. This year? I start the Colonoscopy. So now I get my boobs squoosed and my butt reamed. So much to look forward to.
Squooshed? That’s a great word! I love it! ‘Hey, squoosh my puppies, big boy!’ Sorry, just practising… 🙂
Colonoscopy exams? Wow! Don’t think we have those as routine exams. God, this country’s gone to the dogs! That’s gonna make an awesome blog post! 🙂
Amen, sister! (Mammos start here at age 40, and the place I go to gives you a warm robe and hot tea and biscotti while you wait!)
Not fair! How come you get a snuggly robe, tea and biscuits, and I couldn’t even have pain relief?! Jeeze! Where do you live? I’m moving there, now! : -)
Umm… just for the record, did you ever lose a nipple?
I think if I lived near you (and were into chicks) I might marry you. You have such a wonderful sense of humor and way of looking at things!
Now, being blonde, I usually proudly wear my greys and can almost get away with calling them ‘highlights’ 😉 As for leg shaving well, I very much look forward to winter months when I can get away with sort of skipping that part as I justify it as a way of keeping my legs warm (and as I’m almost always single, there’s no guy to gross out with my thermal leg coverings) 😉
Well, I’m sorry but I’m not having a willy transplant, not even for you! 🙂
I’m with you on the thermal leg coverings! My poor legs never see the light during winter – sometime around April each year, I always give myself heart failure, thinking I’ve got a spider crawling up my leg, and then I remember it’s a tatoo just above my right ankle 🙂
I read this to Mr. B in its entirety. He just started at me. Then replied, “I sure am glad I don’t know what she means.” Ass. I about threw my coffee cup at him!
I had to share this on FB. There is so much I can relate to. Not the leaking like a cow part, but the rest I was with you. I love this term: “Having the ‘decorators’ in for a week” I had never heard that before.
Lol! ‘Cos after all, he’s just a man…’ 🙂
That was so sweet, sharing it on FB – I was thrilled! 🙂 I’m trying to set up a FB page, but haven’t got very far… I have got a new logo picture thing – the heels have been playing with my feet, so I got Youngest to take a pic of me wearing long socks and my Eeyore slippers 🙂 It’s what your lady would be wearing on her bottom half! 🙂
lol!!!! Soooooo true! I’m not sure if you have Always products there but in the US they are a big pad manufacturer and their “catchy” slogan, obviously thought up by some man, is “Have a Happy Period, Always!” Ya right, I’ll get right on that.
Oh yes! Always! I’d forgotten about that one – ROFL! And those lovely new sanitary pads with ‘wings’ – just more gluey strips to tear out yer pubes!
God, I love being a woman! 🙂
You should watch this TED talk on breast screening, its quite alarming and good at the same time: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DqbM1ZrpTQg
Also, we get a raw deal because most medicines have been developed by using how men’s bodies react to the chemicals involved. For instance: most painkillers are shit for women, because women’s pain receptors in the brain are different to men’s, but because pharmaceutical companies are lazy assholes, and didn’t want to have to deal with the changing hormone levels that women constantly have, they based them off of male brains. And this is the same reason why most medicines aren’t tested on women. This is a fecking disgrace and a practice that should stop.
And just to make matters worse, there’s hardly any research and money put into conditions that mainly or only affect women! Hardly and R & D is done on conditions such as water retention even though is disproportionately affects far more women than men, causes secondary conditions and leaves millions of women the world over in absolute misery and pain.
Crikey! I never knew that about the medical testing! Do a post, we’ll share it everywhere! that’s appalling, really. I’ve always said it men suffered the menopause, we’d have had some decent, non-life-threatening HRT.
Thanks for the link, I’ll whizz over there in a mo!
Pingback: Today is International Women’s Day and I want more research done into “sex-based biology” | My Not So Fictional Life
Great post, have re-tweeted, re-blogged and Facebooked! Look forward to hearing other people’s views.