As Women, we know when it’s coming. As Men, you’ll know when it’s here. Sure, you’re lucky you don’t have to experience the wrath that God wishes upon females once every month, but you sure do experience the whiny bitch your significant other can be during shark week. Men; bite your tongue for a few days if you don’t want your balls chopped off. Here’s a short blurb of the things girls WANT, and the things girls could DO WITHOUT, while World War III takes place in our uterus.

Yes.. We want Chocolate.. and Sweatpants.. and Movies.

Let’s start with chocolate. Doesn’t matter what kind of chocolate, bring it here. It could have nuts or caramel. I don’t care; I want it. Cookie dough. Bring cookie dough, because let’s admit, we can bear whatever is going on down there to turn on the oven and enjoy some freshly-baked cookies. My hormones crave anything and everything during this time. I’ll eat crunchy peanut butter by the spoonful… and I don’t even like peanut butter. Fried Rice? Chocolate-covered strawberries? I didn’t just say that…

Gentlemen, imagine, if you will, Floyd Mayweather using your pelvic area as a punching bag. Welcome to our lives once a month. We just want to sit and roll around like a millipede. Doing anything even remotely casual requires putting pants on. The thought of slipping into skinny jeans for happy hour does not even exist in our head. The thought of going to happy hour doesn’t exist either. It’s movie night, which means throw on your comfortable clothing, grab a bottle of wine… everything in your pantry… including the chocolate and come to my house. All of these brownie points that you’re scoring add up you know, for the times that I’m not on my period…Hint Hint. Write that down! Did someone say brownies?



No.. We Don’t Want To Go To The Gym… Or The Beach… Or Anywhere For That Matter.

Those Kotex commercials that show Women doing crossfit or gymnastics, isn’t real life. The Gym? No, thank you. There is currently a velociraptor that’s clawing at my ovaries.The Beach? Absolutely not! I feel like a beached whale, and are you trying to have jaws rip me in half the second I step foot in the water? The Club? Unless it’s Club Bed with DJ Pillow, the answer is NO. I’m too busy being curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth as if I’m in a mental institution.


There’s Still Hope… Advil… Midol… A Tranquilizer Gun.

This isn’t guaranteed to get us out of the house, but it’s worth a try. It will alleviate the cramps, and lessen the amount of complaining. If there’s a tranquilizer gun or xanax involved, the repetitive complaining in your ear may be taken care of. One last thing, it is probably most wise if you keep any opinion to yourself. It may be best just to not talk at all.


With Love,

That Bitch!