Wednesday, December 24, 2008
A recent scientific study found that women find different male faces attractive depending on where they are in their menstrual cycle.
For example, when a woman is ovulating she will prefer a man with rugged, masculine features.
And just before she is menstruating, she prefers a man doused in petrol and set on fire, with scissors stuck in his eyes and a baseball bat shoved up his ass.
- I found this hysterically funny.... I wonder if there is one similar for men or is it that they just prefer women anytime.....
It's mostly sexual with men, except when they want to be pampered eh.... not many men out there who just want to be friends... there is always an ulterior motive.
Here is a wise comment from her mommy to her young son:
A three-year-old boy was examining his testicles while taking a bath.
"Mom", he asked, "are these my brains?"
"Not yet," she replied
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Antonia, sat on her bed, with her book open, she wasn't reading the words in front of her. The words just floated around the page, and collided with each other, randomly, making horrendous noises in her head. "Stupid girl!", "Donkey!!", "Dirty!!", "Nobody Loves YOU!", "Stupid! stupid!" "now what you going to do " "hate"....... horrid words hissing and spitting at her.
She wanted to stop thinking, it was hurting ... she felt such pain. Butterflies wouldn't stop flapping their frantic wings in her stomach. Oh, it hurt. She hurt.
Her eyes stung, more pain than she cared for; she didn't want pain. Laughter is what she wanted.
"I want to laugh!" she screamed silently and that hurt too! Desperation steamed out of her every pore!
Her pain was hard to bear; too much for a 10 year old. Where does she go from her, what does she do with it, with all this pain she felt. She certainly couldn't tell mother or father, for they were part of the cause, and she certainly couldn't tell her brother or sister, for they were too young to understand and she did not want to upset them.
She felt so alone. The tears did not flow as they should have done. Of course, she wanted to cry but the tears just wont come. So dry, alone, by herself, in this bed of pain. Her mind hurt so much, she was thinking but nothing made sense at all. Antonio was so confused by her muddled thoughts, so many sentences that made her sick were in her head, banging away, furiously.
The nasty man made her feel helpless, stupid and dirty, she remembered that too well, but she couldn't understand why?? Why do men want to do that to her. Did she ask for it? Antonio knew that she should have screamed or shouted or something but she couldn't understand herself and why she just let him do it. She hated herself, yes, she did, no she didn't, no, she is just hurt and upset that's all.
Maybe it isn't so bad, maybe she will never see him again, maybe he will go away, somewhere so far far far away, she wont need to look at him again, ever! But that's not going to happen and she knew it. Goose pimples rose on her skin, she shivered. I don't like him! she shouted in her mind... so loud that her eyes winced. I want my mummy, she cried in desperation but no one heard her whimper! Antonia sat looking at her book, still silent and still in pain.
'Mummy.....', the word lay stuck in her throat. No one heard her. She was alone. Very Alone.
The pain stabbed repeated at the little slim girl, with breasts hardly formed, and a face that is etched with sadness of the life that she is living. Another incident of pain with no sight of peace ahead of her, little did she know, there was more of the same to come to her. The future is already written already for the wretched girl. The ten short years she's lived have been branded like a sheep, her life has been soiled, and thus she will live her life, nothing different to look forward to anymore. Normal is not for her. It's too late now for that child, Antonia, and she doesn't even realise it.
Her eyes dry, her mouth dry, her body trembling, her mind a muddle, she sat there for a long time, confused and sodden.
Antonio just kept repeating over and over : "mummy....." to the world that did not hear, her mother never heard her.