When I discovered that most women develop hemorrhoids because of childbirth, it absolutely confirmed my decision to never have children – as if my own childhood wasn’t enough of a reason (which it was!).
So at forty five, I thought I was unlikely to feel the pain and discomfort of them for at least another few decades. Wrong!
How do I know what a hemorrhoids is or looks like? Well lucky ol’ me got to see some pretty big ones on the derriere of an ex-boyfriend. I had to ‘treat’ them for him as he was physically unable to treat them. Told you I was lucky.
So tonight, as I was hoiking tens of kilos of dog food and washing powder off trolleys and onto shelves, I felt a very uncomfortable niggle in my nether regions. After a few hours of consideration as to what was causing the discomfort, I realised the all-to-embarrassing fact . . . I had grapes growing out me bum!
This of course led to another few hours of deliberation as to how the actually fuck I got them, as I can tell you (even though you may not want to know) that I do NOT strain when I am on the lavatory. Either it comes out or it stays in. I’m not putting any pressure on the situation.
After some serious deliberation as to what made the dastardly bubbles appear, I realised that the only pressure I had put my body under – in the general vicinity if you get my meaning – was a normal session of self-pleasure that I had immersed myself in last night.
For those of you who don’t get it – I masturbated last night.
Now this is a VERY normal thing for both boys and girls to do, although I only learned this reality as an adult. I personally don’t get the whole taboo surrounding it, and I’m certainly not going to go without a good orgasm now and then just because I don’t have actual sex.
So my question is – is this going to happen again?!?
OR, more to the point . .
How do I avoid this happening again???
Horatio was always a ratbag.
From the day that I met him when he was just 9 days old, he showed himself to be strong willed and independent. Although he was the runt of a litter of six pups, he was the first one to open his eyes and the first one to wander away from his Mum.
Quite a few times in our lives together, he pissed me off.
I once caught him urinating against some brand new curtains that I had just finished hanging, and he seriously just looked at me as he finished. He looked me right in the eye as he just kept pissing.
Bloody little shit!
And I could never leave any food within his reach. He once pulled a just opened camembert off my coffee table and ate the whole thing.
Bloody little shit!
Last Christmas was very difficult. Just tough. I had few pleasures to enjoy.
But Christmas time does present itself with lots of treats and has so many edible joys. Food that we only have at Christmas and therefore savour. Like lemon tarts from Bakers Delight.
So last Christmas I splurged on a box of six of these delicious little morsels. However, when I got home I was busting to go to the toilet, so I dumped all my shopping bags – including the one with the box of lemon tarts – on the floor by the back door, and dashed to the dunny.
When I came out I forgot about the groceries and went to another task, something not important but it was enough to distract me from the food by the back door.
And you can totally guess what happened can’t you? Horatio dragged the whole box of tarts out to the back lawn and destroyed two of them before I discovered him. In fact he was onto his third!
Bloody little shit!
So today, when I bought my first lemon tart for the 2014 Christmas season, I thought of my little monster. Gone from me just over six months ago.
Today is also exactly six months since I made the decision to kill my beloved Jack. Exactly six months ago. Today.
And I still miss him so utterly.
But today is about lemon tarts.
Lemon tarts and Horatio.
My own bloody little shit!
I have mentioned the meme website 9Gag before.
A few times I think.
It has genuinely helped me see that I am not so much of a weirdo, and that how I view the world, life and other humans is actually quite understandable if not slightly enraging.
Then I stumbled on this meme,
and nearly fell off my dodgy computer chair.
NEVER have I come across something on 9Gag
that is more relevant or helpful to my own mind.
I always joked, that Horatio suited his name.
Rather than a name like Teddy or Pumpkin or Muffin.
He might have only been 6 kilograms, fluffy & white,
but he certainly had an attitude.
He LOVED the beach
He even sported a mohawk for a couple of winters.
The one thing I could learn from him,
and it would be a travesty not to take it on board,
is . . .
“Don’t give a shit what anybody else thinks.
Do what makes you happy,
and make sure you thoroughly enjoy it as you do it!”
I love you Old Man.
I miss you.
Tonight I watched an episode of “Parks and Recreation” with Amy Poehler, etc. . . . It’s a bloody witty program, and just quietly – I love that a chick is the main/lead character.
Lesley: “. . . but most importantly, you’re passionate about animals”
April: “That’s true, because I’m half wolf”
When people compliment me on how good I am with animals,
I like to say that I’m a dog on the inside.
April’s version sounds a little less ‘bitchy’.
I just wanted to give you an update on Jack. He’s definitely been aged by the intestinal injury he suffered three weeks ago, but somehow, he is stilling waddling (and I do mean waddling) through each day.
He’s not in pain, drinking plenty of water and is eating normal food.
I am so grateful
I think it is well established that
a) I have a sense of humour
b) I have Clinical Depression
c) I like helping people
In that spirit –
* if you’re a bloke,
* with a mental health issue
(now or in the past)
* you still have a diaphragm with which to laugh
* you actually DON’T WANT to have a mental health issue
(now or in the future),
. . .
then check out this site.
You’ll bloody piss yourself laughing.
Seriously – go now!
One of the things about poor,
is the reality of when you don’t have money.
I know that this sounds like a redundant statement
but there are numerous ways to ‘fight’ being poor
and juggling money becomes a real art form.
For months I have
been wearing a pair of thongs
that are well and truly rooted!
The hole on the right thong,
is so stretched
that every time I wear them
the toe hold comes out, and I go for a trip.
And not the good kind of trip !!!
Then this week,
I scraped together $20
and bought myself a new pair.
Such a luxury
and such a relief.
I love them!