some pros and cons of womanhood

being a woman has, at times, unusual and interesting attributes.
every month whether we like it or not, our hormones rage wildly forcing us to attempt the most extraordinary feats, all the while, our brains emitting powerful signals of euphoria telling us that pretty much anything we do is acceptable and just. 

we become mad super-powered rulers of everything in our path, burnin' up a wake of flailing unfortunates. 

we are lions in wait. large canine smiles reassuring all around us of our endless capacity for compassion and understanding, as long as no one goes near the ears, tickles the little hairs on the arms, touches the feet, just @#*&!!-ing stop doing that… ok…

we become highly sensitive creatures, swelling with love and empathy for all those endearing heroes of history, Old Yeller, Bambi, and Mr Hooper… oh… Mr Hooper…

the other day at a busy intersection i saw an elderly woman holding a white cane, gearing up to cross, so i went over to her and asked if i could give her a hand. 

she seemed happy to receive it. she told me i was a BH. 

she said it a little quickly the first time, which caused a bit of doubt in my mind as to whether i was receiving a compliment. 

BH, BH, i blinked. we walked arm and arm through the intersection, as i pondered throwing her under a car, when she elaborated.

"you are such a BH. a Big Help" she snickered. "BH, BH, Big Help" she kept saying. 

i patted her hand as i left her safely at the end of the intersection.

moot or hooey?

women who past the age of menopause can increase their life expectancy by becoming evil sinister pranksters