Bitch on the Blog

January 15, 2013

Party Trick

Filed under: Style — bitchontheblog @ 14:50
Tags: , , , ,

Sweethearts, please don’t feel neglected. I will answer all of you and do whatever gladly. For the moment a more pressing thing has been drawn to my attention:

I AM A LEG. Yes, really. Why this had not occurred to me before I do not know. Though I have always known what the Red Carpet at the Golden Globes has proven: Fuck with your face and botox till you look like what’s her name evil twin sister, up your boobs till they resemble balloons so tight you want to prick them, muscle up your arms like the only woman I detest (yes, Madonna, you whore): The one thing you cannot fake are your legs. Such satisfaction. As such I am a leg. I too cannot be faked. What you see is what you get. Unless you turn off the lights first.

Now before the likes of Tom aka Hippo and John aka Chicken Coop get carried away, or please do: I have always upheld, from the first time I had to uncork an obstinate wine bottle, that a woman’s strength lies between her thighs (for the dense: A man’s [strength] lies in his upper arms). Rather a pity that so many wines now come with screw tops. You can’t unscrew a bottle with your thighs. Maybe knees better suited. Anyway, for the uninitiated among my young female readership: What you do is you lower your ordinary garden variety cork screw into the cork. You then place bottle between your legs and PULL. Yes, upper thighs making an amazing clamp. Also proving my beloved law of physics: That of the longer lever.



  1. What knowledge can a teetotaler like me get from your new definition of yourself?

    Comment by rummuser — January 15, 2013 @ 15:02 | Reply

    • My dear Ramana, whether you are a teetotaler or not is neither here nor there. Sooner or later you will find yourself in company which will look at you to do the manly thing and pull the cork. That you won’t partake in the bottle’s content is immaterial.

      When in exclusively female company it always fall to me to crack it. Can’t think why.

      Other than that, and don’t worry, I am not a leg. All I was trying to convey is that legs (and, in my opinion, hands too) cannot be surgically altered unless you go for amputation. Or let yourself be beaten to a pulp. Which is why I find boxers’s and broken noses in general so fascinating. To be continued…. feeling a little queezy at the moment.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — January 16, 2013 @ 20:28 | Reply

  2. Bicycling makes pretty thighs. Hiking makes pretty calves. Now you can wear your skirt up to your_ _ _ _ & be another Madonna.

    Comment by bikehikebabe66 — January 15, 2013 @ 16:28 | Reply

    • Ja heiliges Kanonenrohr, Cynthia: The last thing I want to resemble – not even vaguely – is that ghastly Madonna (though her cheekbones so unfortunately resemble mine).. Not only does she have biceps (very unbecoming) she is coldness personnified. Calculating, manipulating. I can honestly say: She is the one woman in the whole wide world I cannot abide. In fact, if you put me in the same room with her I wouldn’t wish to vouch for my actions.

      Hiking does not make pretty calves, Cynthia Wherever did you get that idea from? Other than that rest assured that I can still wear a skirt up to where the sun does not shine. Lucky genes, and all that, Not a nodule of cellulite in sight. And when you undress tonight do that test: Stand up straight, put your legs together. If you can see a gap in the middle of your upper thighs you are fine; if they meet you are still fine but not as good as new.

      Anyway, I wish I had never mentioned Madonna. Got me all steamed up now. However, when I have nothing better to do I sometimes imagine myself as her Personal Assistant or anyone of her entourage. Oh, dear. Mind you, to make room for the so wonderful British “Giving the benefit of the doubt”, she might surprise me and be a warm hearted creature who bakes blue berry muffins. Don’t make me laugh. I know a tough boot when I see one. In fact, let’s do one better: Put Madonna and my sister who (for the purpose of this blog) we shall call Claudia into the same room and there will be carnage. Unless they decide to do a double act to fill the koffers.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — January 15, 2013 @ 17:27 | Reply

  3. The other option is to get a corkscrew with its own built in leverage, a waiter’s corkscrew, but I must admit that it does take away focus from a woman’s better part of her anatomy.

    Better because a woman can’t open a wine bottle with her eyes alone.

    Comment by Conrad Hake — January 15, 2013 @ 16:41 | Reply

    • How well and charmingly put, Conrad.

      Yes, the waiter’s friend. However, even he will meet his nemesis in the shape of cork so obstinate it’ll crack the glass at the neck of the bottle, and no give. Then there is that other contraption and, in terms of leverage, cannot be beaten: It’s the one where you have two levers either side and as you screw into the cork both levers go up to then be pushed down and magically the cork will come out. Don’t say a word, Conrad: I know my directions usually will lead one into the thicket. I wish I could draw you a diagram as befits the working of your mind but then you probably know what I am talking about anyway.

      As an aside, rather annoying but maybe you can relate to it: I start a post with one idea (in this case that of all body parts the shape and length of legs cannot be altered by surgery) suddenly I veer off track and talk about Madonna. Whilst this type of the mind flitting all over the place like butterflies might work well in real time conversation written down it’s just confusing. Sometimes I wish I could just put a lid on it.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — January 16, 2013 @ 20:19 | Reply

  4. For some reason the (oft claimed, never proven) ability to crack walnuts came to mind.
    Personally I find that reluctant corks succumb to the bottle being gripped between the lower thighs just above the knees with the left hand firmly gripping the neck.
    As for implement of extraction…..always a proper corkscrew as on a Waiter’s Friend…never those things with spiralled knife blades as so often found in the past.

    Comment by David — January 28, 2013 @ 12:55 | Reply

    • David, this sounds all wrong but it’s true: I have done battle with bottles and their corks. Indeed I was once forced to use an ingenious method which I will not reveal since it might make you look for me in the gutter.

      Thanks for the link. It’s brilliant. Why one would pay £140 for a corkscrew beats me considering how many bottles of the actual stuff you could get out of the change from the £1.50 M&S version. Though am not sure the article has its facts right: Since when can you buy anything for £!.50 at Marks and Spencer?

      I’d accept the “L’Atelier du Vin Chic Lady” as a present at the unreasonable price of £29.00. Mainly because of the name and because it’s a stylish black. More suited to my temperament the “Zevro Indispensable” at £29.99 “… the cork pops out through a change in air pressure rather than by BRUTE force”. I mean, seriously, how poetic, nay, romantic is that? Appeals to the practical and aesthetic side in me.

      For extra fun each of those ten corkscrews featured made me think of the persons in my life I’d give it to. Proving once more that one size does not fit all. But, by golly, the perfect fit is, well, perfect.

      Should I ever succumb to the lure of the “UK Suck Keyring” you WILL find me in the gutter.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — January 30, 2013 @ 03:55 | Reply

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