To Egghead With All my Angst
Imagine an idyllic Saturday in June... you wake up to the leftover breeze from a rainstorm that happened the night before and you've absolutely nothing to do for the day... you can lie in bed and look at the ceiling, watch TV, browse the net, or, if you're really ambitious, maybe even get out and go for a walk... no hurry, the weather's going to stay the same all day and everything you need is within arm's reach. As you lie in bed, listening to Pink Floyd, imagine a freight truck with 5 kilos of hot coals runs over your body with particular emphasis on the nether regions. Now, that's PMS. Then it runs down, and proceeds to jump up and down, gathering momentum with each jump and absolutely no prospect of stopping. That. Is a period.
When someone with a uterus say we make this shit up as a reason to be bitchy, it's a big joke, because it's like saying the Holocaust didn't happen. When someone who's a dickhead says it, particularly when one is experiencing afore mentioned freight truck joy ride, well, one's tempted to hire it to go over his balls a couple dozen times.
Just so we're clear - it's NOT just a bad mood, it DOESN'T happen everyday, and it IS SO a big deal!
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