This means that I want:• Fritos corn chips (the Originals, none of that barbecue shit for this Gal).
• A drip that keeps sugary, caffeine-laden Coca-Cola (Coke Classic, nothing else will do for this Gal) coursing through my veins 24/7.
• Everyone to leave me alone; except for attractive men, who I would desperately like to do me -- and then immediately go away.
• To know why everyone is leaving me alone. Can't they see I'm suffering here?
A rough calculation reveals that, over my lifetime, I have endured more than six months of PMS. There's no real end in sight, either. It's simply unfair! (Although with time, it's gotten a little better. I no longer get angry red zits you could sell ad space on, and cramps are only a once-in-a-while occurrence.)
All of this explains why right now, of all human beings who have ever walked the earth (and that includes Hitler, Yoko Ono and Steve Bartman), the one I hate the most is Oscar Hammerstein II. I swear, if he hadn't died in 1960, I would track him down and slap him for writing:
When I have a brand new hairdo
With my eyelashes all in curl,
I float as the clouds on air do,
I enjoy being a girl!
When men say I'm cute and funny
And my teeth aren't teeth, but pearl,
I just lap it up like honey
I enjoy being a girl!
When men say I'm sweet as candy
As around in a dance we whirl,
It goes to my head like brandy,
I enjoy being a girl!
You can't be hating on Oscar. Not when he wrote:
ReplyDeleteChicks and ducks and geese better scurry
When I take you out in the surrey,
When I take you out in the surrey with the fringe on top!
Watch that fringe and see how it flutters
When I drive them high steppin' strutters.
Nosey pokes'll peek thru their shutters and their eyes will pop!
The wheels are yeller, the upholstery's brown,
The dashboard's genuine leather,
With isinglass curtains ya can roll right down,
In case there's a change in the weather.
When we hit that road, hell fer leather,
Cats and dogs'll dance in the heather,
Birds and frogs'll sing all together and the toads will hop!
The wind'll whistle as we rattle along,
The cows'll moo in the clover,
The river will ripple out a whispered song,
And whisper it over and over:
Don't you wish you'd go on forever?
Don't you wish you'd go on forever?
Don't you wisht you'd go on forever and you'd never stop
In that shiny, little surrey with the fringe on the top!
I'd go on, but it's not always a good thing when I start belting out show tunes.
Yeah, well I'd like to see Oscar bouncing around in that surrey when he's got cramps so hideous it's as though his uterus is filled with iron filings and the earth is one giant magnet. Bah! Now where are those Reese's peanut butter cups? You put those down RIGHT NOW!
ReplyDeleteBwaaahaaaahaaaa!! If someone sang that to me while I was PMSing, I think I'd bash em over the head with my sandals ;-).
ReplyDeleteYou should read my post today and click on the link to my Aunt Flo post.
Good googley moogley woman! That is the funniest damn post...
ReplyDeleteFritos for all... or something.
~Allison