Bitch on the Blog

July 26, 2012


Filed under: Communication — bitchontheblog @ 22:58
Tags: , , ,

I do battle with myself. Daily.

It’s entertaining. And awful.

What to say, why to say, how to say, when to say, where to say – it. The only thing certain is the WHO says it – that’s me.

What to say? That’s easy. I have plenty to say. Why? I don’t know. Maybe it needs to be said. How? Now we are running into serious difficulty. When? Not now. Where? Well …

So should I die of bowel cancer you only have yourselves to blame.




  1. My husband has no opinions. He accepts whatever is. I have too many. Problem is I wish everyone would agree with me.

    Christian Maihai from Romania is SO adorable. He’s a blogger who likes you. I do too but form to fill out is half off the screen.

    Comment by bikehikebabe66 — July 27, 2012 @ 02:51 | Reply

  2. Your spamguard reminds me of the robot chaperone played by Joan Rivers in Spaceballs. It stole the comment I made on your last post, so I’m using a fake email address. I hope you don’t die of bowel cancer. Give up red meat and eat broccoli or spinach in good quantities.

    Comment by Gorilla Bananas — July 27, 2012 @ 07:21 | Reply

    • I am sorry, Gorilla. All can think of is that wordpress doesn’t like bananas. My son doesn’t either. So no surprises there. I promise to be more diligent in future and check my spam folder on a daily basis.

      I won’t die of bowel cancer because not only am I – by lucky default – a rabbit in Ursula’s clothing (with the odd morsel of meat and fish thrown in): I am not tight arsed. My reference to bowel cancer a research subject dear to my heart: The link between soma (body) and psyche (soul); hence ‘psychosomatic’. So, by way of example, wisdom goes that if you are a man and found yourself unable to shed tears all your life you will increase your risk of bladder cancer. Water, tears? Get it?

      Or if you are an unbending inflexible stiff bastard no doubt your spine will give you grief (backache) Or, if like me, you are very proud, unable to ask for help when you need it, you will fall, like a puppet on a string. Three times in as many years. Break both arms and be stuffed. Want me to go on?

      Off to snack on some pumpkin and sunflower seeds now. Let’s hope I won’t skid on the kitchen floor in the process.


      Comment by Ursula — July 27, 2012 @ 07:44 | Reply

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