No copying permitted - copyright Leah Gray 2010
Men who just want ‘a quiet life’
What was that you said, you just want a quiet life?
What is that supposed to mean…a quiet life? You have a quiet life, you don’t do anything except go to work all day. You come home feed the dog, bath the kids, massage my feet and as soon as I want a little attention, a bit of conversation, ask you what you think of Suzy’s new boyfriend you tell me ‘you just want a quiet life’?
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
You have a quiet life, you never talk to me!
You’re always sitting on the fence. You never express an opinion and when I ask you what you think of my weight you always say ‘just fine’, which obviously means YOU THINK I’M FAT! Why don’t you just come out and say it? You think I’m fat. Just say it!
You never say anything. You want a quiet life. I want a quiet life, I wish!
I wish I could have some peace once in a while and kick back, but no! The baby screams all the way through Jeremy Kyle and soon as Eastenders is about to start you want to watch the News.
Are you listening to me?
Why won’t you talk to me? It’s always me doing all the talking, talking enough for the both of us. I may as well talk to the wall.
Are you listening to me?
Where are you going?
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Is it any wonder blokes want a quiet life when this is what they have to deal with? Ladies give your man a break from the yipperty yap!
This is a genuine mystery to me. Being on the receiving end of PMT is not fun. It can even be a little dangerous and yet on the whole men are fairly tolerant of the monthly ranting, random accusations, inquisitions and let's not forget the 'chill'.
So why is it that when a man has a cold he can't cope? He goes to bed with 'man flu' and requires pampering for three days minimum. Unless of course you have PMT in which case he takes parecetamol and keeps his gob shut, lest he get a fist in it!
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Christmas is coming and the goose is getting fat, if not the Goose then me!!
What great hot Christmas ideas do you have for this year? I don't like giving people predicatable gifts so I am looking for gift ideas that are hot, cheeky, fun, unusual and memorable as Christmas gifts.
So far all I have found is this hilarious rude vegetable gift. You'll see how rude 
I had no idea such things existed. Meanwhile I am undecided as to who might appreciate this item growing in their vegetable patch. If it's competition for my bf he might not be so keen. A maid aunt perhaps?
Anyway, what ideas do you have for Christmas this year?
Also any hot or unsual gift ideas for stocking fillers?
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Here's the thing.
Your guy tells you about some problems he's having with work, a debt collector, a nuisance neighbour etc. He off loads all of his troubles on to you, his doting girlfriend or wife. You listen attentively, you sympathise and then...you offer advice.
You give him some very clear instructions regarding the steps he needs to take to resolve the problem.
At this point, your man starts to roll his eyes, interrupts continuously and adopts a 'tone'. Suddenly you are the little woman and not a valid source of advice.
He informs you your advice is not wanted, is not useful and will not be used by him. He will most likely request that you be quiet.
Fair enough...
Two days later, your man comes home with a big grin and a skip in his step.
He tells you that all his problems are over. He shared the details of the trouble he mentioned to you two days earlier with a male work colleague. The male colleague gave him some great advice which your man heeded now everything is right in the world once more.
You inquire as to the nature of the advice and lo.... it is the exact same advice that you gave him two days earlier.
Now if you're really brave, you'll use this as an 'I told you so' moment and milk it for all it is worth.
STOP!
If you've been down this road before you know it is pointless, because unless you were sensible and recorded the conversation on tape, he will deny it ever took place.
You have been warned!
Men do not like advice from women.
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I used to believe there was no difference between studs and sluts and this was reflected in a post I wrote called 'the egg and sperm race'. In that post I examined the reasons why culturally men are hailed as sexual hero's for having numerous sexual conquests whereas women are condemned for sleeping around and having numerous sexual partners. They are often called slags for example.
However it has recently been made clear to me the difference and there is indeed a difference.
Men are studs because for a man to be a success with lots of women he has to be good looking, charming, charismatic, perhaps rich.
Whereas for women to have lots of sexual partners she merely has to be available. It is not hard for a woman to get laid, regardless of how she looks, sounds or presents herself. If she's easy, she is in with a chance.
This is why men, despite wanting sex with whoever they 'date' would prefer that the woman say 'no' to sex at least once. This shows them that the woman is a little bit selective and so once they've been selected their self value increases.
Your thoughts?
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A friend of mine recently emailed a hilarious true story of a woman who had a rather unfortunate accident while waxing her bikini line. Her leg was propped up on the loo, while she carefully applied the wax and strip but when she removed the strip, the wax was nowhere to be seen. Some how it had slid down past her bikini line. It had also dried.
Her, what does Ali G call it- punani? was sealed shut, as was her rear exit!
A frantic phone call to her best friend (who recommended she call the fire brigade) and several 'hair raising' removal attempts later she eventually freed herself.
Anyway this reminded me of a rather unfortunate incident that happened to me.
I sat down on my bed and felt a 'prickly' sensation on my bare bottom. I was getting ready to go out, so was naked. I thought I'd sat on my hairbrush so didn't immediately get up, but then the prickle became a burning and I realized I had in fact sat on my very hot curling tongs! I had a 4inch brand on my butt!
So, I do what any sensible person does in this situation, and I get a bowl of cold water to sit in. Just as I do this I hear a car pull up outside. I look out the window and see my flat mate arriving with her student friends. I had just about enough time to get dressed when they walked in.
I was too embarrassed to say I'd burned my bum and needed immediate emergency medical attention, so I suffered through their entire visit. When they went and for several weeks afterwards my flat mate had to assist in giving me a progress report on my burned bum, as I could not see it myself!
Life!
