Look, there are plenty of sane women. There are also women who don’t PMS. Women who do charity work. Who wear chastity belts.
Who are saints.
Then there are the rest of us.
And since women are crazy because men are sometimes, ahem, stupid, I thought I would delineate the stages of the menstrual cycle for the lazyman, I mean, the layman.
#1 All is well
Let’s call this day 1 of the cycle. Period is done.
The woman is happy. Her vagina is free of tampons, and her crotch is free of maxi pads. There’s nothing going down down there, and praise be! That’s all we ask. A little peace and quiet in the netherlands of our “netherlands.”
Our skin is clear. Our boobs aren’t sore. And we haven’t ate everyone out of the house or held up a CVS or Duane Reade at gunpoint for Peanut Butter cups.
Not yet at least.
Excuse me. I think I just had an orgasm. What was I saying?
Oh yeah. stage #2
Right before ovulation, things start to get cooking. We’re peppy, and hey guys, we even like you. We might ask you to go steady, or to fu*k off, but chances are we will be nice if we tell you to go south. We exercise, command attention, and are super-efficient. Life is better than good–it’s awesome.
#3 A Love Bomb is about to Drop
This is right at ovulation or a 1-3 days before.
We. Are. Horny. Very.
This is the time to make babies, or make peace, depending on bad you pissed off your lady. This is the peak opportune time to ask her to do something naughty in bed.
Some women may speak in tongues during orgasms. Others may just simply make you agree to spend loads of money you didn’t really want to, but you don’t care. You got some. We like you. We want you around, and we make your life easy.
Our skin may break out–damn, that sucks—but otherwise, we are symptom free, minus a few cramps indicating that “Damn son, an egg is about to drop!”
If you don’t want a baby, watch out!
#4 Run For Cover, or Prepare for potential Death
This is right before our period…the stage called PMS, and the actual PERIOD. Yup, blood and all.
We become bloated. Some of us have sore boobs. We may cramp. We may break out as if we are a goddamned teenager again. We may eat you out of the house. We may decide to hold up 7-11 for a slushie and a chocolate bar, forgetting we’ve got the cash to pay for it in our wallets. Besides, we didn’t ask to go through this. Nature gave us this crap. We deserve whatever we want.
Men, you will do EVERYTHING wrong, unless you aren’t stupid, and we will hate your clothes, words, face, soul, job, mother, and heart.
We will cry when you forget the DVR the Golden GIrls because don’t you know it, it was the episode in which Sophia was in the hospital. Damn you!
We will get mad when you forget (see a theme here?) what our confirmation/Hebrew name is! You terrible pathetic jerkoff! How dare you forget my confirmation name that goes like: Mary Margaret Theresa Marie.
How dare you get it in the wrong order?
Watch as your precious items are burned.
Football, unless she’s a fan, will be banned.
If you even whisper, “Touchdown,” prepare for your death.
Right until when it is all over, and we’re back to stage 1.
The impressions in this blog are of the author, a sane and smart woman. Well, one of those is true.
If you are an angel all month long, please ignore this.
If you love getting your period, screw you.
If you don’t understand this is humor, you are stupid.
**images by Photobucket