Most women get to know when their regular (or not) monthly visitor is about to make his/her/it's regular monthly visit, by the sudden manifestation of:
1. zits on otherwise-silky-skin
2. bloating, aka The I-Feel-Fat days, and
3. inexplicable cravings for chocolate (and please, NO sarcastic digs about how, if I actually got down to thinking about it, 3. might actually explain 2! Or actually, go ahead with the digs, but remember! Hell hath no fury, like a woman with PMS).
Me? I know when I listen to the radio. And get all choked up when they play 'Dance While the Music Still Goes On'. And then turn manic depressive because not only am I actually listening to ABBA* early in the morning, I am being moved to tears, by the *sheer profundity* of their lyrics.
There had better be a god. Somebody's got to answer for this!
*Aren't blogs absolutely wunnerful? All the benefits of catharsis** with none of the judgemental you-were-listening-to-ABBA-then-die-fiend nonsense to deal with. And if you are going to be all judgemental, then this is me, with my finger delicately hovering over the delete key. Ha! Power!
**Yes, catharsis, I was listening to ABBA in the morning, remember?
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3 comments:
You know why it's called PMS?
Because 'Mad Cow Disease' was already taken.
Honoured to (have) be(en) on your blog-roll, I'm sure!
Ah! A humorist. Wonderful.
The blog-roll stays, Couch. You, on the other hand, can run (but not hide. or not forever at least).
God might well be beating himself up for creating women and giving them PMS, serves him bloody right!
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