25Horrormones!
Within every female there hides a lurking beast. It visits once a month and wreaks havoc on women’s minds, temporarily replacing the brain as the primary decision maker and thus maliciously manipulates this woman into behaving in a strange, violently irrational manner. This affliction affects all areas of her life and leaves her picking up the pieces for the next month, when it returns to ruin it all again. This tragic phenomena I have named, Horrormones!. I have observed Horrormones! at great length, subjecting myself to routine (monthly) training sessions, testing the endurance of many friendships. Furthermore, often during these training sessions, my own sanity is at risk. However, I hope to one day thwart this beast, much like the David thwarted Goliath. With a stone. Except my weapon of choice this time is being stoned. Hurrr. When I wrote stone, I felt like writing ‘stoned’ in the next line was just too awesome an opportunity to pass up. So, I had a joint. And am suddenly developing an appreciation for Nelly (that’s all that’s on my housemate’s computer) and oh god, Bieber is on and he ACTUALLY sounds like a girl. His song, First Dance, is totally about him trying to get this chick to give her virginity to him. Listen! oh hell I’ll just link it. But I digress. On with the tragic tale of this woman’s failure to defeat Horrormones!. This time.
The powerful, ruined sorcery of this ancient beast convinces this woman that she is in fact, the ugliest woman in the entire universe, 8-eyed no armed blue aliens included. By the power of this woman’s now warped sense of rationality, she then decides that, followingly, her love must want to seek a new mate. This sends her into a Horrormones! induced frenzy, causing her to create atmospheric disturbances which rouse many negative feelings from her nearest and dearest. This distresses the now confused woman. Why are they angry! I’M ANGRY! Oh god they hate me! I hate me! and this is the most hideous part. Horromones! combines with Latent Paranoia in a sickening display of Crazy, wherein she quite possibly isolates herself from anyone that can help. Alone and confused, with questions like “Who’s right? Who’s wrong? Does it matter? What’s right and wrong?” scratching at her brain, seeking entry, she turns first to a friend. A friend tells her she’s being stupid. In this woman’s experience, this method almost always produces this outcome. This further opens the door to such crazy, angry little questions. These demons ask this woman if she is really all that fantastic, and maybe she’s just a crazy bitch. There is also another demon that says that she is completely justified in being so self-righteously angry. The two generally quarrel and cause such a cacophony that this woman is rendered speechless and dissolves into tears at losing her voice. She hears that offerings of chocolate and food and hugs and love will appease this beast called Horrormones!, but none are available to her at the moment and she despairs. Oh, how she despairs. Then she seeks a true friend. A friend that doesn’t need words. A friend called Jim Beam. Mr Beam sedates her, makes her realise that she’s ok. She manages to shake off the remainder of the spell with a few eye-burning gulps, but cannot yet manage sleep. She tells Sandman she’s going to be late for their appointment but she’ll be there soon. To dispell this curse completely, she goes into a portal called a Blog, a mystical place where one can say anything without being interrupted or told they’re stupid. She finds her way here through Facebook Rd, where the journey to a new status update is long and perilous, and she is often seduced by the pretty glow of the Blog portal detour before reaching her status destination. Along the road, she decides to write a story. A story of apology and self-realisation. And then she accidentally writes stone and decides to go to fairyland, a wonderful place where nothing is the matter and writing a story is the most absorbing thing in the world.
How is this a tragedy? The tragedy isn’t respect she lost amongst friends. This woman’s Sanity, and thus Dignity (the two are, afterall, siblings) has taken many a bruising in the past, and this night surely did not improve the situation and many a friendship were injured as a result. However, with this night also came a realisation of a responsibilty she didn’t think she had. A responsibility to uphold the good and kind and strong personality that she would like to think she sometimes has. And a realisation that yes, she might be wrong this time, and that her encounter with this (puberty) age-old beast will inevitably end in embarassment and failure. However, this is not the tragedy either. The real tragedy of this tale, my friends,
is the writing. It’s appalling, I talk such crap. Sorry guys! Here’s a ‘You’ve reached the end!’ consolation prize.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zcD7WkeA1qs&feature=related
Made by a real fan!
