"Yay! We’re on the same cycle!"

Every time that bitch-ass of a bitch Aunt Flo comes to town, she takes over my brain and I feel the urge to blog about just how awful she is.
I suppose even the strongest of minds find her pull hard to resist. Even though brains are on the opposite end of the body than the uterus- its powers are strong (even strong enough to move objects on its own), and therefore very hard to escape.

So here we are again. It’s that time of the month, y’all. For a lot of us. And as ladies we know that when more than one woman has their monthly explosion at the same time- HOLY JESUS! YOU’RE ON THE SAME CYCLE!
It becomes a celebration of Uteronian Evil between all parties involved. Hooray! Our bottoms are falling out at the same time!
This is so…. cool?

Not THIS ManKind. C’mon!

So, bleeding from your va-jay-jay at the same time as another woman is… awesome? I mean, we HATE periods (other than the fact that it’s confirmation we didn’t go and get ourselves impregnated if we’re not trying to be), do we hate other women enough to wish them the same torture simultaneously?
Misery loves company? Someone to sit and inhale chocolate cake with, without feeling any kind of guilt? Knowing that you are not alone in the cheese grating of your innards?

I guess I can understand that, but I think we women should be focusing on the greater good. And by greater good, I meant he greater torture of all man kind. And by man kind I literally mean MAN kind. No vaginas, not even the bleeding ones. MEN. Penises. Dangles and Berries.
You get the point.

So how do we women torture men even worse during our most brutal PMS-y, angry, stabby, ‘i’m going to slaughter something if I don’t get some fucking chocolate” state? I mean, you might think it CAN’T be worse, right?
By spreading that shit out. Let us not hope for our periods to be simultaneous, but spread out. Keep those punches coming. Don’t part the red sea- just let it flow.

This isn’t Captain planet, y’all, there is no “With our powers combined” by standing in a circle and putting together our pelvises. Divide and conquer.

You all know very well that I don’t hate men. I’m married two one, I birthed two future ones, I even have a male puppy. I am SURROUNDED BY THE DICK. It sounds horribly wrong to say- but it is my life- so I feel as though I am living under its reign, and when my uterus goes full frontal assault, it convinces me that I must attempt to take over while I still can- while there is a cornucopia of evil in my system.

I could write an entire blog on how hell hath no fury like a woman with Period Shits. Beer shits ain’t got NOTHIN’ on period shits! Men have no idea what they are up against if we could just spread this business out to keep them wearing flood waders year round.

I mean, if that’s not good enough reason for you- just consider the fact that you’ll be the only one bitching when you’re bitching instead of having a bunch of dudes whining “Oh no, their cycles have synced up again!”- or making jokes about bleeding for a week and not dying.

Really, someone better just get me some mini reeses before my uterus attempts to take over the world single… Fallopian Tubed-ly…
Trust me when I say it’s for the greater good of MANkind (and not the damn wrestler, damnit!).

Posted on July 3, 2012 by Holdin' Holden 5 Comments
Holdin' Holden

About Holdin' Holden



  • I live with 4 pre-teen and newly-teenage girls. And have some (okay, like 3, but still) real life friends, all of whom seem to have much weaker uteruses (uteri?) than I… because every female I’ve ever spent more than an hour with somehow ends up on my cycle.
    Since high school, I’ve known that my friends would all be riding the cotton cowboy at the same time I was.
    How does this happen? Why?

  • For my sanity and the boyfriends I pray that munchkin does not have the same cycle as me. My anger at the world lashes out at that time of month. I can only imagine she will be the same way…ugh, at least I have a few years before I have to worry about all that she is only 8.

  • I have 2 sons, thank god.

    I’m enough uterus for one house.

  • “Riding the cotton cowboy” is pure poetry and filled with genius.

    Might have to team up with her, because my daughter’s went all wonky and she synced with mine. All female friends synced. I produce Super Pheromones that quietly require all females follow.

    Nothing like having all the “painters” on different schedules to shut the men up. Force them to fear our every hormone imbalance. That’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout.