Godammit, I’m Mad!

The commuinques above are from the esteemed owner of Dolly Python, a shop in Dallas, using a nom de guerre.

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This one below is from the classy socialite and fashion maven Judy Aldridge (regarding Anna Wintour):

What do they have in common? I see a disturbing preoccupation with menstruation.

I remember being around 10 years old and having to see a film in school about menstruation. I  recall feeling intense embarrassment and general discomfort.

But then I got a little older and had my first period. My sister showed me what to do. It was kind of upsetting. She forgot to tell me that you had to keep changing your pads. But soon enough, I learned that menstruation is just a part of life. I never used cute little euphemisms like “My friend is in town” or however that one goes. I never  called it “the curse.” I would say, “I have my period, do you have an extra tampax?” or something like that.

Once, after a night out and being a little tipsy, I couldn’t find my tampax! I tried and tried but the more anxious I became, the more impossible it was to do it. Finally, I went to get my date (now my husband) who was waiting in the bedroom.

Now, for you gals in Texas, it’s time to leave. You’re never going to be able to handle this. Scram! Shoo!

Okay, so then, my gracious date told me to lay down and relax. He would find it for me. I will never forget how gentle he was.  Gentle, confident, and manly. Manly enough to remove the tampax and go throw it away like a gentleman. I felt my heart go CLUNK. This was a man in a million. I fell in love right there, right then. Nineteen years later, he is still the only man whose hands I want on me. Except for Johnny Depp, of course.

I always loved having my period. It’s messy but sensual. It reminds you that you are a woman. It reminds you of the cycles of nature, the moon and the tides.

Where does the fear and loathing come from, ladies of Texas??

If you would like to share your memories or point of view and you can do so without being a slobbering lunatic, jump in.

Ahem. Let the meeting come to order!

First of all, in response to all the nice people who are concerned about my age, my shriveled anus, and so on, I would like to make it clear that I will be fifty seven this month and I fucking rule. See me arm wrestling above, at a family gathering a couple of weeks ago.

Face it! I just rule. It’s not my fault that I didn’t over-pluck my eyebrows, I didn’t like staying out in the sun, I didn’t fuck up my hair and I was just lucky that way. This rampant ageism among the nice people who have recently come aboard is very sad. They are terrified of aging but that’s not my fault either. In any case, that particular weapon is useless here. Thanks anyway!

Second: An excitable woman in Texas has taken it upon herself to rally her Good Ol Gals on facebook to come here and cause mischief. The woman is a pal of Sea and Mom.  Here is her best comment thus far:

Now we know more than we wanted to know about Sea’s appraisal of me. She is welcome to perseverate on female genitalia, as she does on her “other” blog. Just not mine.

As it turns out, poor Mom is also preoccupied with me as evidenced by a histrionic screed that she left as a comment, using a proxy server.  Her comment was particular shocking, coming from a mother, but obviously our ideas of morality are very different. At least she got Sea to delete this “thought:”

Grief, shoes, it’s all the same to some people. Scary but true.

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Now, here is my thinking. I have been committed to a blog that is free of censorship. But this orchestrated attempt to waste my time is annoying my real readers. So, how about one of these strategies:

1. When some lunatic leaves a comment that slanders me ( in the true sense of slander) we shall respond to them with the word “WHORE!”  For example,  “Dumbbell” writes “LOL sister wolf, your an old old old anus with no sole” the response from faithful readers shall be “WHORE!”

or

2. I will just allow the first two lines of every slanderous comment and delete the rest. That way, “Judy under a fake name” can write: “sister wolf you make me sick, bile vitriol, venom, old old old empty lonely bad mother crazy as a loon and even reading my freaking ebay curations and you make me so sick and you hate on and your just so old and  why don’t you get a life you horrible old thing and bab bad mother who doesnt know how to grieve like we do in Texas you old old older-than-me narcissist narcissist bla bla bla bla” but it will be shortened to “sister wolf you make me sick, bile vitriol, venom, old old old empty”

Well, these are my ideas for now.

Any stupid lunatic out there who thinks they can mess me up, knock yourself out. I will say whatever I want about whoever I want. I am exactly who I say I am. I have nothing to hide. I don’t ask for special courtesy because of my loss. But if you go out of your way to fuck with me, I will express my annoyance.

The rest of you, I couldn’t love you more.  xo

If you’ve been wanting to tell Phil “all women are cunts who need to be shot in the face” Spector what you think about him, here’s your chance! I’ll go first.

Dear Phil,

I’m glad you’re going to jail to pay for what you’ve done. You’re a crazy motherfucker and it’s time to put you away. It’s nice to know that all your money can’t protect you now. I’m sorry you are so short, but that doesn’t mean you get to bully people or kill them. I still love the Christmas album, though. Nice work on that.

Okay, take care (just kidding!)

Love,
Sister Wolf

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Your turn.

Everyone knew that the woman who just had octuplets was crazy, but who knew she’d be crazy and arrogant?

Watching a preview of her interview on NBC, at first I was more horrified by her face than her words. What the hell did Nadya Suleman do to her face, and why isn’t anyone mentioning it?!  She has clearly had a terrible nose-job, leaving her with a tiny miniature of a nose that wouldn’t fool Helen Keller. Then, the inflated lips! What a mess. Perhaps she is going for an Angelina Jolie look, but as in her quest for babies, she is tragically deluded.

As far as I can tell, this woman has a pathological compulsion to acquire children, much like some disturbed people hoard animals. “An animal hoarder is a person who amasses more animals than he/she can properly care for.” Oops! If you substitute babies for animals, the disorder fits her behavior perfectly.

Women who use their children to gratify their own narcissistic needs are discussed at length in Alice Miller’s landmark book, The Drama of the Gifted Child. If you haven’t read it, let me say that it’s often cited as “a book that changed my life.” It’s a book that is pressed upon others as essential reading. If you grew up feeling worthless, if you still struggle to be your ‘real’ self, if you worry that you might screw up your own children, this book will be a transformative experience.

Today I was thinking about childhood, and I recalled my mom screaming theatrically, “Why did god curse me with a child like you?” I remember how sad I felt, and how I wished I knew the answer to her question.

Now I know that what my mother meant was, I can’t control my anger and I can’t deal with the needs of a child.

I have lost my temper with my own kids more times than I want to remember. I hope and pray that I haven’t screwed them up too much. At least I won’t have traumatized them with a face that looks like a duck.

Again, if your mother was/is crazy, this club is for you! Feel free to speak up.

If you had a crazy mother, you will spend your whole life trying to transcend it. If you are a crazy mother, no degree of remorse will ease your heavy heart.

My mom was crazy. Even into her forties, my sister was ashamed to let anyone find out. Whenever I meet someone with a crazy mom, I feel an instant kinship, even if their childhood experience was nothing like mine. The burden of a crazy mom sets you apart. You missed out on something that you can barely imagine. But you struggle to forgive her.

I know people who were locked in closets, hit, threatened, screamed at, abandoned, and I know a woman whose mom killed herself on Mother’s Day, knowing her three daughters would find her with a plastic bag over her head.

If your mom was crazy, none of this will shock you. I’m more shocked when an adult friend tells me about a nice day she just had, shopping with her mom. It seems almost otherworldly. How do you get a normal mom, a mom who isn’t either enraged or crying?!?

While PAP Smear takes a break, I’m embarking on a Crazy Mothers Club. We might have a logo, but probably not. Maybe just a secret handshake.

Was (or is) your mom crazy? Here is a place you can talk about it.  Rant, complain, whine, and compare notes. Are you a crazy mom? You can confess, seek counsel, or just bond with other crazy moms. No one gets to be mean to anybody else, i.e., bad vibes will not be tolerated.

Since I fit both categories, I get to be CEO. Annemarie will do the PR and heavy lifting. All other positions are open.

But someone’s got to do it! I love this picture, sent to me by my associate Dr. Larue, who is nothing if not a bit of a cunt himself.  I cannot overstate his braininess and talent.

Anyway, yes, I am on record as being a cunt, and the use of the word as invective is just water off my back. I have other qualities too of course, but some things just bring out the cunt.

For example, the Bitch Who Got All Up in My Grill upset me because she refused to let me defend myself or fight back on her “blog” after going all Cray-Cray on my ass. And for no reason at all! So, now, I am obliged to be a cunt by posting a photo of her stupid muffins, which she posted and identified as ‘copyrighted.’

Look, Crazy Lady, here are your fucking copyrighted muffins! Bon appetit, Crazy!

On other fronts, I am feeling a little cunt-ish about Olympic swimmer Dara Torres. ( 2blowhards led me to her.) Have you all seen this photo of her? She is 41 and about to compete in the Olympics for the fifth time, a record, I believe. She had a baby two years ago, and has spent hundreds of thousands of dollars to get herself in this shape:

Dara, I want to speak frankly with you. You are a sick woman. You have crossed the line from lean to skeletal. I understand that you are a competitive athlete, but this is not that. You are starving.

If Dara won’t eat, let us all raise a cookie or scoop of ice cream tonight in a prayer for Dara’s recovery!