PMS. Officially it stands for pre-menstrual syndrome. And officially, it sucks. Now, you will never hear a real woman say that PMS is not real (in fact, saying that just might get you bitch slapped). And if by some weird freak of nature some woman does say that, she's a bitch and she shouldn't be trusted. (Don't leave her alone with your kids or husband.) PMS is real like the big girl PMS underwear I'm forced to wear right now. (P.S. For all you ladies out there...please tell me that I'm not the only one who has a stash of what I call "big ass grandma period panties" located in the very back of the unmentionable drawer.) Uh. PMS. I hate you. You know...I think someone should do a survey of all the women in prison. I bet you almost 90% of those women were PMS-ing during their offense. Especially the ones who cut a fool.
In "celebration" of PMS...here's a little taste of what a day in the life of my PMS is like.
What is up with the teenage zits on my face? Um...last time I checked, I was well past puberty. And taking one good look down my shirt...I know I am well past puberty. PMS= Pimples May Surface
Did my bra shrink overnight? And my pants? Everything is tight...uh. Why aren't women allowed to wear elastic or sweat pants to work? I'm actually contemplating buying some maternity pants for days like these. That is perfectly acceptable, right? Dress codes. I got your freakin' dress code. PMS=Pass me My Sweatpants and Puffy Mid Section
Why yes, chocolate does make it better. And Doritos. And Ben & Jerry. And caramel popcorn. And pizza rolls. PMS=Provide Me with Snacks
Oh. No. You. Didn't. Just. Cut. Me. Off. In. Traffic. On a normal day I would just honk at you. But today, I will honk at you, flip you off and look straight at you while I say a few curse words. PMS=Pardon My Shouting
It was Friday night. I was supposed to be out. Having fun. Or at least doing something that partially resembled fun. Instead, I was stood up again by quite possibly the biggest douche bag on the planet, curled up in my grandma's patch-quilt blanket, sobbing like a baby, with thoughts like, "Why is my life so horrible?" PMS= Psychotic Mood Shift and Plainly, Men Suck! and Pardon My Sobbing.
Person standing too close to me at Wal-Mart: Don't you see the ice cream in my cart? Next to the Tampax? You better back the hell up. PMS=People Make me Sick
Checking out facebook, I notice that a lot of people keep their status in the same genre. I mean, if your status is always about the same thing, like your kids...or your job...or your pregnancy...or your diet...you are boring. Mix it up a little. We, the audience, need some variety. PMS= Pissy Mood Syndrome
Hope you enjoyed that.
From,
Your big-panty wearin', sweat-pant sportin', ice cream eatin', emotional crisis havin', PMSin' biggest fan.
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