And today's psychosis is...
Sep. 12th, 2002 10:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lady_t_220Ugh, don't wanna go to work today... *whines* >,< I have cramp and I'm feeling unsociable. You know, well, that and I despise my job.
Oh, and following a link through sheer blind morbid curiosity this morning, I ended up peering at the menstrualhut community. I'm sorry, it has to be said, I laughed my ass off at these people.
As it is I only have about *this* much tolerance for tree-hugging hippie crap but some of these people are nuts.
A woman who paints using her menstrual blood? Excuse me...? uh... ewww.
Trust me, the last thing on my mind at that time of the month is whether flushing things is bad for the environment, or the beautiful prospect of sewing my own washable pads.
I thought we'd progressed a little beyond what our ancestors did, and stuffing a hand-sewn pouch with rags somehow does not fill me with the same confidence as a box of Allways.
I'd rather stay in bed and eat chocolate if it's all the same to you. Give me disposable, give me drugs, then leave me the fuck alone to watch sappy romantic films with the curtains shut even though it's the middle of the day.
I don't want to go skydiving or rollerblading along the beach with my dogs like the adverts say you must. Hell, I wouldn't even do that on ANY day.
I think it was Simon Day who said it... that stand-up guy from the Comedy Store...
Why not make a tampax advert with a real woman? Someone like my girlfriend... Flanalette nightie... hot water bottle clutched to her stomach... big carving knife in her hand screaming "Get back here you bastard!"
That done with, I guess I should go get dressed. *bah*
I've seriously got to get myself another job before I really do end up gouging out my eyes with a sharpened lump of parmesan stolen from the chiller cabinet.
People keep asking me if I'm enjoying it so far. I'm thinking of changing my answer from a noncommital "It's... OK" to a more definite "No, it blows, please help me slit my wrists with this Point Of Sale banner. The blunted plastic is just a little too tricky to get through flesh without some assistance."
Oh, and following a link through sheer blind morbid curiosity this morning, I ended up peering at the menstrualhut community. I'm sorry, it has to be said, I laughed my ass off at these people.
As it is I only have about *this* much tolerance for tree-hugging hippie crap but some of these people are nuts.
A woman who paints using her menstrual blood? Excuse me...? uh... ewww.
Trust me, the last thing on my mind at that time of the month is whether flushing things is bad for the environment, or the beautiful prospect of sewing my own washable pads.
I thought we'd progressed a little beyond what our ancestors did, and stuffing a hand-sewn pouch with rags somehow does not fill me with the same confidence as a box of Allways.
I'd rather stay in bed and eat chocolate if it's all the same to you. Give me disposable, give me drugs, then leave me the fuck alone to watch sappy romantic films with the curtains shut even though it's the middle of the day.
I don't want to go skydiving or rollerblading along the beach with my dogs like the adverts say you must. Hell, I wouldn't even do that on ANY day.
I think it was Simon Day who said it... that stand-up guy from the Comedy Store...
Why not make a tampax advert with a real woman? Someone like my girlfriend... Flanalette nightie... hot water bottle clutched to her stomach... big carving knife in her hand screaming "Get back here you bastard!"
That done with, I guess I should go get dressed. *bah*
I've seriously got to get myself another job before I really do end up gouging out my eyes with a sharpened lump of parmesan stolen from the chiller cabinet.
People keep asking me if I'm enjoying it so far. I'm thinking of changing my answer from a noncommital "It's... OK" to a more definite "No, it blows, please help me slit my wrists with this Point Of Sale banner. The blunted plastic is just a little too tricky to get through flesh without some assistance."
