Tag Archives: women

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It (unfortunately) never disappoints.

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Gather round boys and girls…. September’s Cosmo, aka the worst gift subscription ever, is here.

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On first glance I thought maybe, just maybe…. I could flip through it without being stunned this month.

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Yeah.

No such luck. And as I’ve said before, I’m no prude… but the in your face sexual content of this magazine never fails to surprise me.

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Greatest sex position. Wouldn’t that be a personal choice?

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Not according to Cosmopolitan.

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And… apologies, but I’m not going to discuss the Venus butterfly technique. Cosmo did, so if you’re curious, get your own friend to give you a year’s worth of this trash.

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Cosmopolitan Hell … part 2.

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Because this month’s issue was extra horrible and requires two posts.

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Sorry Cara, but I definitely don’t want to hear all about your sex toys.

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Golden penis syndrome. If nothing else? Receiving this gift subscription has made me aware how utterly out of touch I am.

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As if you men don’t think your wands have magic powers already. Geesh.

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Interesting demographic there. All in the south except one town in Massachusetts. Wonder why…?

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No, I didn’t tear that article out and I didn’t tuck it under my mattress. I did give brief thought to sending a copy to Monica Lewinsky… but alas, I think that ship has sailed.

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Madison Avenue run amok.

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Whatever happened to plop plop fizz fizz… or snap crackle and pop? These days it seems like it’s all ball wash or dead hoohaas.

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My Whoopee is right where it needs to be thank you very much.

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They did not just say that!

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Good grief, do they even prescribe that anymore?

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Here’s hoping your hoohaa is in good health and not in need of such products.

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One mad mother chucker.

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I’m not sure why…

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But momma woodchuck always looks pissed off.

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Is it because her children are always under foot?

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Or because the pesky human woman keeps spraying all the tasty munchies with coyote urine?

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Maybe it’s because her tatas are hanging so low they scrape the rock wall.

Tough call… but I’m going with gravity. That’s bound to make any woman cranky.

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Well done ladies.

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In the continuing series Why does River keep posting this nonsense? I bring you the final squares of the centennial quilt.

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No it hasn’t taken 100 years to complete, it’s just the time span being celebrated by our little town.

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Does your town have yurts?

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Mine does.

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Hats off to creative women.

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And their needles.

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And now, what you’ve all been waiting for… ( or waiting to be over. Either way, you win) .. the completed quilt!

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And may I just say, bravo.

This will hang proudly in our town hall so all can enjoy the fabric wrought history.

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Cosmo Hell

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Oh, you thought my awful gift subscription to Cosmopolitan had run out? No such luck. So sit back and see what the young women of today are reading about this month.

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Okay then… moving on.

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Apparently there’s a dating app for everyone. Not ready for Tinder or Grindr? Try Tabby.

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Meow!

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This particular article was quite detailed and had everything you ever needed or wanted to know about circumcised penises.

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As well as a lot you ( or maybe just I ) didn’t.

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When in doubt, say nothing. Apparently my mother’s advice holds true for every situation.

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What’s up Venezuela?

Wait.. on second thought. I don’t want to know.

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P.S. I refuse to put sixty nine or circumcision in my list of tags. No good can come from that. So to speak…

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Eat. Pie. Love.

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The other day we drove almost 2 hours to look at a used pool table. It was a piece of junk and we had to drive almost 2 hours back. Funny how that works. So when I saw a sign that said Pies! Pies! Pies! I knew we had to stop.

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At an adorable little store on a lovely 40 acre farm.

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Yes, a mother and her 15 year old home schooled daughter run the entire farm by themselves. Please note all work is done by horse and ox. Maine women are nothing if not capable.

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The store was filled with the fruits of their labor. Jams, jellies, relishes, honey, pies, wool, dried flowers, wreaths, maple syrup, soap… and yes. Everything was made by their own hands.

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And this wasn’t some run down ramshackle operation. It was lovely, well kept and clean.

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When my husband opened the upright freezer and saw it was packed with pot pies, quiches, turkey soup, mushroom ravioli, pesto, and minestrone he asked the girl when they found time to sleep.

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Jam came home with us. As did some soap, some soup and of course…..

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Pie.

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Which instead of a traditional crust had a marvelously buttery and flaky rolled pastry foundation.

Pie.

It’s what’s for dinner.

And maybe breakfast.

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A small collection of nonsense.

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I saw this at Goodwill last week… and it made me wonder how many women in the 60’s stuck their face in a cone for the sake of beauty.

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The ridiculous cat products are still popping up on my Facebook feed.

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Saw this license plate and thought…. why would anyone want to be BoBo?

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For anyone who doesn’t remember….

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BoBo was a blow up punching bag…. and part of a groundbreaking study about learned aggressive behavior.

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And if ridiculous cat products aren’t ridiculous enough? This abomination popped up on my Facebook feed the other day.

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And I seriously don’t want to know what algorithm triggered that!

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It’s official…. I’ve seen everything now.

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Apologies to my male readers, but this really needs to be shared.

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Kegel exercises have now gone digital.

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Yes, you read that correctly.

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Video games for your pelvic floor. And thanks to me, you’ll never look at a joystick the same way again.

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Easy to follow directions are helpful.

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But the reviews are a complete riot.

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Almost worth the Hell I’ll have to pay for clicking on them.

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Now I totally want to make my significant other fly across the room.

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Ha!

Women rule, no doubt about it.

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