What the the HELL! Ok so I know I haven't written in a while but I feel compelled to say... once again... WHAT THE HELL!! If I have to watch another advert on tv where a women is cleaning a sink and pleading for Mr Muscle to sweep down and save her because how else will she have the time to darn hubbies socks, pack her Umpa Lumpas (children) lunches and make it to the PTA meeting in time I may very well PUKE a little... just a little... in my mouth!! Let's not even talk about the pink Vanish Lady... what the hell... you should be covered in honey and thrown on an anthill for your crimes! Since when, just by the way, does CHOCOLATE stain!!! If it's staining your clothes it means you haven't sucked on your shirt hard enough to get it out... and that would just be a travesty... and a waste of chocolate! I don't want Mr Muscle to swoop down and show me how to clean a sink, or God forbid how to scrub a toilet, I want the stupid arse-licker in the green lycra to do it for meeeeeeeee!!! Do you have any idea what germs are IN a toilet!! I on the other hand, want to be sipping a gin and tonic on the patio snarfing chocolate brownies.
Am I the only women in the world who finds it just a little irritating to constantly see women being placed in the role of toilet scrubber, carpet vacuumer and my all time favourite... the lady who comes home from a hard day at the office and then stands in her spotless kitchen thinking.. "hmmm I wonder what delicious and nutritious meal I shall whip up for my family... and all I have is this can of pilchards... " (out pops a Michelin star like Paella - I's been watching lots of Master Chef ;)) before proceeding to the lingerie AD where she'll dress up and be ready for the whips and chains that her hubby expects when he gets home that night from the pub...(ok... so maybe Im making that one up... or I've been watching the wrongggg channels :P) and then cue the mattress AD where she wakes up (wind blowing in hair and fully made up) arms stretched out with that big smile on her face.... *hooch*
Personally, I wake up looking like one of the children of the damned in the morning... the make-up I so thickly applied the night before to make me appear ethereal to Dalekins when I wake up in the morning has somehow dribbled down to my chin and I now look like a Picasso painting of a racoon! Not... :)
So... in the spirit of all feminists out there, I am going to Burn all my bras in protest! (the ones that have gone a funny colour in the wash - not the wonderbras... they make my kadunkadunks look great!) Enough of being treated like nothing better than a weak female who can't do anything....!!
Dalekinnnnnnnnnnnns!!! Please come light a firrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrre... the charcoal makes my hands dirtyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!! *flutters lashes and bends over to flash cleavage in aforementioned Wonderbra* What...? he works better when he has something to look at... ;)
*switches on big Mr Muscle light up into the sky to call him* (The Mr Muscle Signal - which mind you is in the shape of a big turd!) *watches him land* *walks up to him and smiles* *grabs his cape and sticks it on the braai and watches his lycra go up in flames* Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee *watches him running around like crazy* *sprays Mr Muscle Greaseball cleaner on him.....* WHOOSH ...
What...!! I was just trying to put him out!!!!!!!!! *sweet smile :)
Mmmmmmm gin and tonic..... *burp*