A Thesis in Pre-Manstrual Tension… (The Male Perspective)

Pre-Manstrual Tension is that time of the month when the male can do absolutely nothing right, he lives in fear of his life and he’d rather kill himself than await the killing blow that could come at any time. Its that time when reality takes a break for about 5 days and the females in his family unit swap places with their evil, parallel universe counterparts or maybe they pull a Jekyll & Hyde, not too sure of the details. Further analysis is needed into this phenomenom. Now that said, there are signs in the build up to the event…

1. It’s not your imagination; there is a dark cloud developing above your house. Its nature’s warning of the coming storm. Heed it!

2. Those alarm bells you hear ringing in your head. Its not paranoia, it’s a repressed memory of this time last month resurfacing, where your mind has tried to protect you from the horror. This is simply a biological coping mechanism that activates in the male every third week of the month. Complete amnesia of the previous five days allows the said male to live in blissful ignorance/denial of the developing Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome. This also accounts for the somewhat shorter lifespan of the male.

3. The females at this time will experience both physical and psychological changes that are quite often misinterpreted by the male. Symptoms include:

a) Seven Dwarves Syndrome. It is called such because of the nature of the developing personalities that include: Grumpy, Horny, Weepy, Angry, Clingy, Evil and Dopey. It is important that the male not be fooled when dealing with Weepy or Clingy because despite the natural response to comfort, they could become Grumpy, Angry or Evil at a moments notice and subject to change without warning. So as a safety precaution, the male should always throw a chocolate chip muffin like a grenade at the female’s feet and retreat quickly.

b) Long-Term Memory Retrieval. Whereby the female will both recall and recant everything the male has ever said or done wrong. At this time it is imperative for his own safety that the male remember that whether he is right or wrong, he is WRONG!!!

c) Depositing Venom. The female while experiencing varying degrees of rage will spit poison at the male that may escalate to fire should the male speak at any time during this process. It is believed that the poison sacs develop in the female’s ankles as there is often noticeable swelling at this time.

d) Rapid Cleaning. The female will dust and clean at approximately ten times her normal rate of speed as she chants disparaging remarks and comments about the male. If at any time the male should ask if she is okay, he will receive a very cold ‘FINE’. It is at this time that he should retreat quickly (see appendix a)

4. The male is likely to find all manner of strange paraphernalia in the bathroom that will both baffle and confuse him. Words like wings, strings, promises of comfort and freshness while playing tennis, swimming or cycling only deepen the mystery of their relevance to events. What has been established is that these items are not for use with general sports equipment and although they offer limited absorbency in swimming, they are neither comfortable nor fresh when wrapped around a tennis racket or bicycle handle bars. Further study is needed…

5. The male will experience varying degrees of dread that increase in intensity at this time. This is simply mortal fear and although it may appear unfounded it becomes more justified in his mind as the days pass.

6. As the female becomes increasingly consumed by the event, she becomes a vessel that quite literally accelerates the males age, causing tremendous mental turmoil and stress as she absorbs his life-force with her irritability, rage and accusations that have no basis in truth or logic. Interesting to note that this also contributes to the male’s shortening life-span (see appendix 2)

7. As the event reaches its climax, it also becomes the most critical time for the male. The female fully embraces the event and develops extreme strength and a keen knowledge of weapons expertise and can at will, create a lethal weapon out of any object that is within reach at a moments notice. This is called A-Teamosis, whereby the male will find himself avoiding projectiles of all shapes & sizes in a manner unseen outside of the ‘Matrix Trilogy’.

Should the male survive the event, so will begin his repression of short term memory. Lasting effects of this recurring phenomemon include percieving the ‘reminding’ nature of the female’s voice as white noise and the inability to see sought after objects before his eyes. The female at this time develops an elated euphoria and feeling of well being that the darkness has subsided. Perceptual stimuli includes fluffier clouds, brighter skies and that hunk down the road washing his porche.

In conclusion, more study into the cause of this phenomenon is needed…


Lucifer’s Sojourn…

Where is the justice? Where is the loyalty? Where is the love?
I would gladly bestow my heart in gratitude for a beloved kindness bequeathed me by my brothers and sisters of the world. Such simplicity and cooperation in sublime generosity is sacred yet they would betray me and slander my name without a second thought. God only knows, I try to be a good man, stand tall, proud of my honesty and good intentions yet so lost in a ruthless world of cunning, spineless con artists, highly skilled in the artful finesse of mendacity.

My wounded soul climbs the heights of Helicon to gaze upon Helios and Selene, entranced by the darkness and the light that beckons Euterpe, my muse who brings to me the clarity and poetry of life. Fore I see the Demon in the eyes of children, hidden in the diabolic depths, corrupting their souls with such divine purpose, a traitor to their innocence.

I hear the sweet music on the night air, a violin played with masterful beauty as to trance me to the core beneath a sullen moon. So arcane, so brilliant as to bring me to tears and strip me of my armor in the eyes of this dilettante who shines like a star. His genius beyond any words that I could castigate of him, his bearing like that of a king, to possess such honor and authentic self awareness. He approaches, his rapturous melody coming to an end as his haunting tones seep into Mother Nature’s velvet umbrage.

His eyes shine in the moonlight, shifting color like gems of alexandrite, piercing with power and an air of plutocracy. Yet his manner befalls one far more humbled to life’s attitude. Like a polymorph that would engender many faces in disguise to the expectations of the beholder. And so he joins me in this twilight liaison. When finally he speaks, his silken voice drips tones of Mephistophelian seduction as to flatter my senses.

‘What troubles you, my friend?’
The familiarity of this stranger should violate all that I hold in truth yet I find him quite intoxicating and quickly endear him to my soul and begin to tell him of my woes.
‘It is my Father… Today I had news that his health deteriorates beyond the doctrine of the known sciences and his Holiness would have me sit with him ‘til quietus takes him. It has become such a huge incubus to me’
‘His toil is known to me, it is why I have sort you out’
‘Who are you? Illuminati? Royal house? What do you know of me?’
‘That is my secret to keep, all you need know is that I am a law unto my own freewill and the demographics of every man, woman and child in this world are known to me’ A predatory smile spread across his features but I cared not.
‘Why would you seek me out?’ I asked desperately as he laid a consoling arm about my shoulder.

‘I sense your soul is in jaundice of your beliefs’
‘I beg your pardon Sir?’ I gasp, open mouthed.
‘If I may use an analogy of the stars my friend, like Sirius your soul has split in twain. Sirius A shines brightly in belief and conviction as Sirius B consumes itself in rage and doubt and this is what I believe troubles you so deeply.’
‘What am I to do?’ I wept as a tear ran down my cheek. He held me by my shoulders and looked deeply into my eyes.
‘What if I were to tell you I could expunge your Father’s sickness and bring him back to healthiness? Would that bring foundation to your troubled soul?’
‘I would say do it… Please… I will pay any price…’ Again came his predatory grin.
‘And so you shall my friend, consider it done’
He took my hand and shook it hard, causing me to wince as a sharp, stinging pain crossed my palm. I quickly withdrew my hand and looked at my palm to find what looked like a small burn in the shape of a cross. When I looked up, he was gone. ‘The man moves faster than a cheetah’ I mumbled as I felt water drip off my nose just before the Heavens burst into torrential rain and thunder rumbled across the tenebrous night sky.
And for the first time, I wondered to myself…

Did I just make a deal with the Devil?

The Body….

It all started at dawn, blurry eyed, yawning, plodding one foot in front of the other, feeling brain-dead, but looking like an extra from ‘Shaun of the dead’.

I stumbled down the stairs on autopilot and switched on the kettle to assure my waking mind that its first caffeine fix of the day was imminent. As the kettle quickly rumbled to the boil, I rolled a cigarette to make my morning fix complete.

I lit the end of my nicotine pacifier and inhaled deeply of its glorious, deadly, cancerous pollen. And so my mind awakened to the prospect of another day. BOLLOCKS!!!

Coffee cup in hand, I stood and made my way to the sink and looked through the kitchen window to see what this new day offered and to my immense territorial outrage, I found some cheeky fucker sprawled out on my lawn embracing the morning sun.

So, arse firmly in my hand and preparing a tongue lash that could kill a man at ten paces, I unlocked the door. I stepped out into the dawn rays, squinting and shielding my eyes to investigate this dormant interloper. The closer I got, I realised that this stranger was not moving, at first I thought nothing of it and began proceed onwards. It was then that I saw there was no chest movement, no breathing and droplets of dew had collected around the face and clothes of this departed individual.

The coffee cup that I hadn’t realised I was still holding, dropped from my hand in rhythm with my increasing heart beat almost in slow motion as the cup hit the ground and splashed its remaining contents over my bare foot before soaking into the surrounding soil. A chill played the length of my vertebrae like a skilled pianist, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as the full gravity of my situation was realised. I didn’t even notice, I had stopped walking when my coffee cup had hit the ground. I was cautious, but I don’t know why. Its not like the bastard was going to jump out at me, he’s dead…..HE’S DEAD!!!!!

Arr, panic mode. I had to physically force myself forward to ascertain if my assumption was correct. Getting as close as I dared, I nudged him with my foot, fully expecting him to reach out and grab my ankle, thus releasing from me a high-pitched, girlish scream that would permanently crush my testosterone soaked ego. I released a sigh of relief as I realised that this is not to be the case, and knelt beside him to fully look death in the face. I reached out and touched his cold clammy face, and was surprised to find his head did not move to the side as I had expected it too. His neck was stiff as a result of the blood pooling beneath him in rigour- mortis. I examined him and tried to bend his limbs as my panic gave way to morbid curiosity. Inappropriate thoughts began to fill my head as I pondered whether or not he was posable, and then further as I contemplated how I could pose this ‘meat mannequin’ in my garden amidst the gnomes, flowerbeds and hanging baskets.

My reverie was broken as a piecing scream shattered the dawn silence. I looked up and behind me, to find the location of this morning screamer. Ah, next door neighbour, top right bedroom window. Wide eyed, one hand covering her mouth while the other pointed at me as her husband joined her to see what all the noise was about. To my right was the freshly dug hole, I’d dug yesterday that was to be my new pond, and at the head of that was my spade, standing like a cross at the head of a grave. Realisation dawned. FUCK IT!!!!

And so began another day…

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