Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Periods/Lady Time /Fuck Wittery

"Fretting boyfriends need never worry about upsetting their girlfriend during that particular time of the month with the help of a new reminder system."
I've never liked the tired yet oft trotted out claptrapular notion that periods make women into monsters. I don't like women using it as an excuse for shitty behaviour ( indeed Jane from Druncondra, if you're throwing cups at your partner on a regualar basis I'd say you've got a lot more to worry about than periods) and I don't like men dismissing women's actions and reactions as 'hormonal'. If you got told off in work by your female boss it's probably not because she's 'on the blob' but because she thinks you're a useless article and she'd like you to do fucking better. If your wife is mad at you for something stop and have a little think, go for a poo with the newspaper and think, was there something you did/said that might have cause her brow to furrow? Oh right, that.
This kind of 'hur hur periods' bullshit reduces women to unthinking hormonobots, unwilling slaves to the fluctuations of their sex and it needs to be booted firmly in the hole whenever it raises its head.
A gal might very well get a bit hormonal every now and again-hell we are CHOCK FUCKING FULL of them, but that doesn't mean she's going to grow two heads and suddenly start foaming at the mouth and hunting down small animals to tear asunder. It doesn't mean our cognitive thinking abilities have packed up and gone to Tahiti for a few days. So why should a man suddenly start treating her with kid gloves?
So naturally this article from the Herald has me rolling my eyes in all sorts of directions.
Seriously, what a load of gooch fungus. Let's consider the fact that nearly all women over the age of 12 and under the age of 55 are having periods on a monthly basis, that's a lot of women. And yet we haven't gone on violent rampages and killing sprees just because the lining of our wombs is ripping free from our bodies in a bloody, breast aching, cramping, back hurting way. That we don't in fact turn into mindless thugs is testament to our fantastic good nature. Frankly I'd like to see a man go through the same shit every month- purely on a scientific quest- and see how he handles it.
Bullshit websites like PMSbuddy are tedious patronising hooey. Poor little things that we women are, so enslaved to our hormones that we cannot control our widdle feelings and emotions. And of course the poor men need to be told -via an alarm- that their partners or wife is a loose canon and best avoided. God forbid two adults might actually know how to interact with each other minus outside jocular alarmed help. God forbid a man might know his partner has a period and might be in some pain or discomfort. God forbid a women might not be mature enough to handle her own bodily fucking functions without resorting to mindless snarking victim.
Here's a reality check. Go outside and look around you. See all those women? You can be sure a lot of them are bleeding up a storm right now. Are they carrying petrol powered chainsaws? Sawn off shotguns? Blunderbusses? No? Then shove your alarm up your hole until you actually need one to remind you to get the fuck out of Dodge.
PSMbuddy- go fuck a duck. You ain't no buddy of mine. I am against you.

Labels:

35 Comments:

Blogger Unknown said...

I know, I know.... and there's a full moon up there too.

Feeling a bit test(osterone)y meself, must be the time of the month.

9:48 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Get someone to rub your back and make you endless cups of tea. Make sure it's someone who pretends not to notice your testiness. The last part is vital.

9:51 a.m.  
Blogger Unknown said...

How could you forget... you know I don't like tea!

9:57 a.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

That "rant" is as good an indication that you are in "d flowers" that one is ever likely to see, calm down dahlink and don't worry your pretty little head.
Think about nice things, like furry rabbits and cute kittens.
Women...know your limitations

9:58 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

EEK! Sorry Conan. So sorry. Toast with Rhubarb& Ginger jam then.

Monkey, try get with the programme. If I was in 'd flowers' surely I wouldn't even be able to type, I'd be off crying somewhere and planning the paramour's demise for leaving his underpants on the cistern. Pfft.

10:05 a.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

GRRRRRRRRRAAARRR! HULK SMASH!

Completely ridiculous and extremely insensitive / arrogant idea.

I do know a few women who can occasionally be emotional wrecks around their period, but this sort've crass generalisation is just plain wrong.

10:07 a.m.  
Blogger Unknown said...

I want grapefruit marmalade thank you, and a good mug of espresso, please, and make the rain stop....

10:09 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Exactly, I know some men who are moody and cross after certain football matches, but no one is advocating a MatchBuddy pile of crapology.

10:10 a.m.  
Blogger Unknown said...

Oh here, I'll get it myself!

10:11 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Er, nowt I can do about the rain Conan. Perhaps you could call up a reiki person and get them to distant heal the clouds.
mmcoffeee, I believe I will.

10:12 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Impatient hussy!

10:12 a.m.  
Blogger Unknown said...

Why did you not set that alarm thingy I thoughtfully got you?!

10:12 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

I'll just climb over the wall and see if I can find it in the bushes. Did you know they really soar when drop kicked?

10:14 a.m.  
Blogger Unknown said...

But it was a present, for you... I only got it for you because I thought... snifff... I thought.... gulp-sniffffle... I thought it... would... snifffffle...gulp....

10:20 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

It's okay liddle fellah, dont' worry you head about it, it's not broken, it's gone to a better place. It's an alarm angel now. Don't you know only the best alarms get called home early?

10:23 a.m.  
Blogger morgor said...

haha, imagine if you did have that thing set for your boss and your boss found out.

it'd be an interesting conversation i'd say.

10:29 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

If by interesting you mean tongue swallowingly mortifying I'd whole heartedly agree. The fact that you can 'track' the moods of up to at least five women really adds to the whole stalkerish vibe.

10:32 a.m.  
Blogger Unknown said...

Morgor, you can see it can't you... Fmc just doesn't understand me I look for her support and she matronises me...

10:35 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

But I do support you Sweetie, I don't think you look puffy at all.

10:37 a.m.  
Blogger Unknown said...

So you DO think I'm fat! Well, let's be honest then, you really DON'T like this hair do, do you? You were being "kind" about it weren't you?!

10:42 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

You've NEVER looked so...radiant before. NOw I'll just go get cracking with that coffee pot...*









* Backs slowly out of the room

10:45 a.m.  
Blogger The Hangar Queen said...

Conan! Were you at my little blue pills again?

I am devoting the rest of my life to insinuating "gooch fungus" into every conversation.

11:14 a.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Darling girl, I could think of nothing more gloopily annoying right at that moment.

11:23 a.m.  
Blogger Andraste said...

Snicker. Gooch Fungus. I will use that one too. With great joy. It's that kind of day.

1:11 p.m.  
Blogger morgor said...

You could actually save money, instead of buying this product just ask

"You on the blob?"

in this economic downturn, you need to save every penny.

Conan, there's nothing worse than being matronised.
I of course blame the Matriarchy.

2:02 p.m.  
Blogger Megan McGurk said...

Huzzah!
Well said, FMC.

2:26 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Evening ladies, it's a miserable day here in drizzly old Dublin and the new budget is about to be announced any minute. I believe I will go fill the car with petrol before the hike.

3:35 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I started salivating at the mention of rhubarb and ginger jam and have forgotten about everything else as a consequence. Periods, was it? All I can say is that periods make me want to eat buckets and buckets of rhubarb and ginger jam with my sleeves rolled up and my hair tied back in a pony-tail for more efficient eating.

4:47 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

It's bloody delicious stuff Sam, I've just had it on a hot buttery scone.

5:10 p.m.  
Blogger Unknown said...

"I'll just go get cracking with that coffee pot...*"



THAT WAS ELEVEN HOURS AGO, and not a sniff of a coffee bean since...

9:57 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Too late now, I can't have you up pacing the floors half the night...

11:15 p.m.  
Blogger Unknown said...

I can fill the belly brim full of the bestest, darkest Lavazza and sleep like a babby.

11:39 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Sorry to dissent FMC but, if men are not allowed the 'ooooh, she must be on the blob' mitigation, then, to be fair, women are not allowed the 'ooooh, men wouldn't cope if they had periods' thing 'cos that's almost as patronising as the PMSBuddy thing.

No offence; you know I'm usually all about the consensus, me.

11:50 p.m.  
Blogger fatmammycat said...

Apples and Oranges Jimmy. I didn't say men couldn't cope, I'd imagine they could, same as we do. And that might make 'ooh they've got a period/ they're nuts' redundant.

Hah! Conan snap for the brand, it's delicious is it not?

9:05 a.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I HATE that excuse!
I hate it when my manager is being a right fucking bitch and the lads all say it's cause she is on the blob- whereas me, the only other full-time female in the place, is always in chipper form and never seen to be snappish at anyone. What the hell?!?!

Double standards - hello?

7:59 p.m.  

Post a Comment

<< Home