Sorry men but I must go here. I am sure many women; mothers, girlfriends and wives alike wonder what it is that causes men to shartle.
When one sharts due to sudden unseen excitement or state of shock.
Without going into graphic detail most know what a shartle is. For those who are confused – Ladies it is when you pick your mans jockeys up by the corners and hold them arms distance as you run them to the laundry room.
What is up men? I know your mothers taught you how to wipe properly, or did they? Is it a man thing that when you feel the need to pass gas you “push” extra hard to make sure you get the most relief?
I am at a loss. All I know is my panties have never experienced the shame of a shartle. I would worry I smelled of ass if I walked around all day knowing I had basically left a partial load in my drawers.
So from all of the women in your life who have the illuminating task of doing your laundry – try wiping better, don’t worry how manly your farts smell or sound and most importantly if you know you have shartle drawers do your own damn laundry!
I am typing as I prepare to dash out the door for the WordPress Conference. I am so glad to be here. Happy I came. I was hesitant to attend as for the last four years I had let my health and depression define me. My husband said “Marlene you are going to this conference. You are still that independent woman I married 5 years ago. You don’t see her, I do.” He was right. I had let fear take over my life. After meeting and interacting with so many wonderful fellow bloggers at the mixer last night I can feel the old Marlene starting to shine through. Thrilled she’s back. I could say she never left she was hibernating. Time to wake up, smell the coffee and enjoy life. As I have said before I only get to do this once, it’s not a dress rehearsal. I let five years pass me by in a haze of not caring. For now, right this minute, I am back and running out the door to do something for myself. Learn, meet people and have fun. Woohoo!!!!
I want to take today’s blog and thank everyone who stops by my site, those who like it, those who don’t and those who share comments with me.
When I started Postcards I wanted it to be as interactive as possible. I am learning, with your help, how to achieve that.
I have dabbled with long and short posts. I have settled, for now, on shorter to the point posts that call for comment.
I have also been testing what days seem best for you as a reader. I have decided I will be a weekend blog. That way I can spend Mon-Thurs writing and editing for a three day run. Of course that could change too, I am prone to indecisive action
I am blessed and excited to be going to Phoenix this Friday for the WP Conference. If anyone reading this is going please let me know, I would so enjoy meeting!
Without WordPress I would not have discovered what a wonderful outlet blogging can be. There is so much I want to learn to make my site one you will want to continue visiting.
As it is Sunday, that means Funday. Let’s try to make at least one happy memory today!
What would you call those times when you are depressed for an hour, maybe two? I think for my research purposes “fractional depression” fits the bill. An hour or two of sadness, a fraction of a day. You are at the “yes” point on your meds and with your therapist, where you feel normal more often than not. It is a reality you can live with. Like renting vs owning. We are learning to be in charge of how we feel, how much depression we allow. We can change our frame of mind at any time. Mindfulness Thinking anyone?
How many women have ever looked at a man in amazement as he is staring you in the eye lying. I am talking stupid lies. “No honey I have not had a drink.” Meanwhile he is slurring and smells like a brewery. How stupid do you think I am? If you try to reason with him an inane argument erupts. Somehow it ends up to where it is your fault. What the fuck. Seriously, there is nothing more irritating than a man lying. I have not met one who did not need lying lessons. So ladies here is some sage advice from my husbands mother; nod and smile. You can think anything as you nod and you will avoid an argument about the stupid lie he is trying to sell as you smile.