No man should ever blame anything on 'The Periods' because, as we all know, that only makes us go on 'the periods' even harder and we become hungry angry Dinosaurs that eat men whole for a light snack without even bothering to chew them, just to add to their torture as our stomach acid slowly eats through them.
Then just before those men die from the acid in our bellies, we throw them back up! Regurgitated whole onto a bed of salt (the fine grainy kind, it sticks better in skinless spots where the acid has eaten clean through to the organs and the organs are a little chafe-y).
And the bed of salt sits in the middle of the desert at the hottest point of the day, and the men of course have no clothes on, on account of the stomach acid eating through them, along with bits of their flesh.
There’s no oasis in sight, not even a mirage, …did I mention there’s a bottle of sun block there to help shield that mans corroded parts from the harsh rays of the sun? Oh yeah but it’s only the bottle, inside it’s 95% peroxide mixed with 5% iodine solution that never stops burning.
I dare you to blame a womans moods on her ‘periods’ and you will see her arms recoil into tiny T-Rex arms, those small arms are you first clue to run away. Next they retract entirely until she just has hands for arms.
While we begin to breath fire and grow wings to become the first T-Rex Pterodactyl ever to exist! A heinous monster nobody will ever win a war against…caw caw, caw caw!
Game on! It’s a war that looks like a Monty Python sketch in the middle of Jurrassic park and no Man gets out alive… molten blood clots will be flung like water balloons …RUN AWAAY!
But don’t worry, after the war is over, if you have survived, we will apply skin balm to all your burn-y parts and bandages made from the uterus of a Unicorn that magically heals everything.
We will give you skin grafts made from Griffins and Mermaids and then stick you in the belly of a freshly slaughtered Unicorn to heal you entirely…and tell you in our sweet little voice ‘love you’!
After an hour, you come out of that freshly slaughtered Unicorn as fresh as a muffin out of an easy bake oven.
So my warning to you dear men…don’t mention the periods cause you are endangering the very thing that is saving your life…the rare Unicorns, Griffins, and Mermaids…and what will you men do if you don’t have those magical creatures left to heal your wounds and grow your skin back?
PS…I have also come to the conclusion that men can be even bigger cunty bitches than women…men are the biggest ones in the world...they are just better at hiding it behind beer, pornography, sex and sports games, but take those elements away and you have your self the queen of the Mega-sauraus-cunty-bitches
PPS this was going to be a post on the dangers of dreadlocks but some man blamed my bad mood on the periods and thought you men needed to know why it hurts so much when you say that to us.
The winner at the end of this fun filled game:
The Periods: 1
~I surrender to The Writing Womb~