Bitch on the Blog

March 12, 2010


Filed under: Despair,Sex — bitchontheblog @ 04:13

Before you continue reading this, a word of warning: My boiler packed up days ago, I am freezing, there is no hot water to keep myself or the dishes clean. I am glad that someone invented hot water bottles. Yes, I am in a seriously bad mood. On top of which the internet keeps cutting out (so both you BHB and Magpie will have to wait for my finely chiselled answers to your comments on “I am a girl” till I find time to rewrite the damn things lost in the ether AGAIN). If only the cat had the courage to die too I’d be a much happier woman.

I don’t know where to start venting my spleen: I too came across Magpie’s statistic (this is with reference to his comment on Grannymar’s usual Thursday’s Finest). I shan’t go into detail why some children were brought up to think that the stork only delivers to the young, but at least I finally understand GM’s penchant for sexual preoccupation in her ‘jokes’. And this will sort her toy boys from the old girl – Viagra not withstanding. I have never dreaded old age – that mist in the distance – but might be  pushed over the edge by GM and her unveiled references. Will consult my mother on this before buying a ticket back in time.

Once more being appalled at GM’s sense of humoUr I have since been advised by an authority higher than my conceited and ill-informed self that the less you can partake in any joy of life the more you will dwell on it. Let’s put it another way: What you, GM, might pass off as self-deprecation in the best of English tradition is just putting yourself, and all other 60 +, down; leading –  according to the teachings of our Cheerful Monk and Ramana – to a self fulfilling prophecy.

At least I now know what a ‘cougar’ is.  And a ‘Silver Fox’ (this is why every woman needs at least one gay friend – you learn things which will NOT help you to survive when push comes to crash).




  1. Ooh! Can one vent spleen anatomically? 😉

    What I observe is that I was always brought up that (c)rude jokes were for single sex company. My mother once informed me that the Graffiti in women’s lavatories was worse than in men’s. This was as a warning when I was given the job of cleaning the lavatories on a caravan site. She was right. Years later a BBC programme told us that a) the subject most discussed in women’s locker rooms is sex and b) that 90% of sexual graffiti is female generated. It’s true it seems….. What seems to have happened these days is that women are willing to tell (c)rude jokes in mixed company.
    I suspect that there have always been women of that ilk any way but the difference is that these days women cite feminism as an excuse.

    Just realised that I have presented yet another statistic.

    Human relations and interactions will always be a source of humour because I think we tend to laugh at that which embarrasses us. Like slipping on a banana skin, that is so embarrassing.

    As for Cougars…. I rather wish that….no mustn’t let that one out of the bag… and Silver Foxes… I should be one? Not enough money and thus power! It’s not the man but his (apparent) power the girls find attractive.

    Hope the electricity sorts itself out!

    Comment by magpie11 — March 12, 2010 @ 14:58 | Reply

    • “My mother once informed me that the Graffiti in women’s lavatories was worse than in men’s.” Magpie, how does your mother know that?

      Comment by bikehikebabe — March 12, 2010 @ 16:15 | Reply

      • Yes, BHB, I agree: How does Magpie’s mother know that? Still, at times, some of us have had to support ourselves by doing unmentionable jobs. I never forget when I left school (age 19) and in dire need of funds one of my friends asking me not to mention to her parents that I subsidised my income by cleaning our sports hall and changing rooms (if ever there was a smell – and that was only the girls’).


        Comment by bitchontheblog — March 12, 2010 @ 21:07 | Reply

    • Thank you for your commiseration, Magpie. I am so cold my spelling has gone haywire and my brain is in danger of freezing over. I like bananas – they are an easy source of potassium. However, banana “skins” just serve the better educated to use the word “Schadenfreude” as if it were a German invention. Let them laugh on the beaches, …

      In theory, and I really do not wish to follow in the steps of where I put my foot wrong some months ago with regards to the height of your heels, but according to my source a “silver fox” is an elderly man on the lookout for a younger version of himself. Maybe you were thinking of pepper and salt “Sugar Daddy”. I have to say: If I were a man (particularly the father of one or more daughters) I’d take exception to that derogatory pigeon hole. Let’s just file it under “age disparity”.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 12, 2010 @ 21:01 | Reply

  2. You’ve referred to your sick old cat, hopefully dying, more than once. I told my friend when she was taking her sick cat to the vet, to get rid of it & get a new healthy cat. She asked would I get rid of Kendall (my son) when he’s sick.

    In high school I had two gay friends. I & the other girls, talked to them a lot–about girl things. They were giggly & fun and not ill at ease like the boys who were thinking of other things.

    Comment by bikehikebabe — March 12, 2010 @ 16:08 | Reply

    • Bike Hike Babe, please do not worry about Bouncer (the cat). Just shows you how my mind warps in times of distress. I am not going to put anti freeze in his water any time soon. It’s just since his mother was hit by a car (and died despite best efforts of the vet) he has not been the same. We are talking 26 July 2009. That’s months. He has fallen off the flesh, doesn’t eat, doesn’t drink. It’s awful. In fact if cats have nine lives he must have used about 18 of them. A couple of days ago I had brainstorm to feed him sardines which he has taken to like the proverbial cat to the gold fish tank. Thank god. My son keeps kidding himself that Bouncer has already put on weight again. He hasn’t. But at least he is not short of your recently mentioned Omega 3 and 6.

      And he is not old. He’ll be nine 13 April (which incidentally was also Good Friday that year). My son helped delivery of the three kittens (myself feeling slightly squeezy). As any professional midwife does he even recorded the exact time of their births. Like David Copperfield Bouncer was born in his caul, he literally was pushed out looking like a parcel. His sisters being so much more resilient, even if half his size, I chose to keep him once the other two were old enough to go to a new home. He is the most affectionate cat ever – unfortunately he has got his father’s brain, luckily his mother’s looks.

      So, please do not send any cat rescue around yet. I will fatten up that cat if it kills me and makes the vet rich. If Cheerful Monk knows of a cat whisperer maybe she can let me know and I’ll fly Bouncer over. Oddly, and if I have already related this before only shows that I too am beginning to show signs of brain shrinkage, I broke both my arms at virtually the same spot where Bouncer’s mum was hit, some two weeks later. Anyway, enough of that. I shall follow Cheerful Monk’s advice of … Amazing isn’t it? I started writing this comment hours ago, then life distracted me away from the machine, now I don’t know which of Cheerful Monk’s advice I was going to take. Blast.

      Still, I notice with more amusement that some of today’s LBC contributors have gays and/or transgender on their brain. Shall return to this subject in a separate post.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — March 12, 2010 @ 20:39 | Reply

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