May 16, 2011
My uterus hurts. And for those of you (like Cathy and Lisa) who think that I seem to have PMS a lot, you’re right. I do. In case you didn’t pay attention the first one million times I said it, my body is a f@cktastrophe of epic proportion. It should not surprise you at at all to learn that I am not normal. Not even close. Unlike most of you “normal” people, I DO have PMS a lot. Every 2 1/2-3 weeks. And that fact should make you all realize what an amazing man my Hub really is. Also during PMS, I gain approximately 10 pounds. Yes. Every 2 1/2-3 weeks. Then when the red dragon comes a callin’, POOF! The 10 pounds is gone. Oh, and then T.R.D. only hangs around for one day. So that kinda makes up for the rest of the mayhem.
And some of you (or all of you) might think that this is TMI, but in my world there’s really no such thing.
For example, my Facebook status yesterday was “Dear Uterus, You and your Menstrual cramps suck ass. I would totally wanna come back as a dude in my next life if only it wasn’t for those damn balls. Periods are hell, but walking around with those things dangling between my legs sounds worse. If Evolution can make fish walk the land, can’t it do something about Aunt Flo and nut sacks?”
For those of you who have yet to friend me on Facebook: You are really missing out. Which is probably a good thing.
And last week my friend and I had a lengthy phone conversation about nose picking. Pros and cons. Various techniques. Possible injuries that could occur. Etc…
And yesterday, at The Boy’s soccer tournament, the ref kept calling Handballs, and I wondered aloud, “I wonder how that works if the kid has no hands. If he touches the ball with his stumps, does the ref still call Handball? Is there a call for Stumpball? Or can that kid smack the ball around with his stumps all he wants?” And someone said something along the lines of “I can’t believe she said that” or something.
And about 99% of conversations between me and my friend Stephanie are about pooping. And bloating. And vaginas. But mostly pooping.
And just today, me and someone who is definitely not my little sister, had an in-depth conversation about how one could possibly survive for 3 full days on a houseboat with a bunch of other people and not poop, due to not only the close quarters and embarrassment factor, but also the fact that the toilet is prone to clog. My suggestions included, but were not limited to: Putting on a Depends just for poops, then tucking it into the bottom of a trashcan. Getting a colon cleanse a day before the trip then eating very lightly while on the boat. Taking a Folgers can in your suitcase to poop in. Training yourself to poop those little nugget poops, then every time you go in the bathroom to pee, you just drop an inconspicuous nugget, and by days end, you’re good to go.
I am pretty much a poop genius.
I really don’t find any subject off limits. Much to The Hub’s dismay.
The man really does put up with a lot.
But so do I. (See graph post from last week for proof)
Wow. This blog really went astray. I can’t even remember what I sat down to write about in the first place. But this was not it.
You guys are so lucky.
11 Responses to “Somehow This Post Turned Into Lots of Talk About Poop. I Wish I Could Say I Was Sorry.”
Leave a Comment
Don't have a Gravatar? (the small photo that shows up when you make a comment). Get one here, it's FREE: Sign up for a free Gravatar