There’s a difference between Women and Ladies
and how they deal with life.
Here are a few examples:
LADIES –
If you accidentally over-salt a dish while it’s still cooking drop in a peeled potato and it will absorb the excess salt for an instant quick fix.
REAL WOMEN –
If you over-salt a dish while you are cooking; that’s too damn bad. Please recite with me, The Real Women’s motto: “I made it: So you will bloody well eat it and I don’t care how bad it tastes”.
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LADIES –
Cure for headaches: Take a lime, cut it in half and rub it on your forehead. The throbbing will go away.
REAL WOMEN –
Take a lime, mix it with tequila, chill and drink. You might still have the headache, but who gives cares?
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LADIES –
Stuff a miniature marshmallow at the bottom of a sugar cone to prevent ice cream drips.
REAL WOMEN –
Just suck the ice cream out of the bottom of the cone, for Pete’s sake. You are probably lying on your arse on the couch, with your feet up anyway.
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LADIES –
To keep potatoes from budding, place an apple in the bag with the potatoes.
REAL WOMEN –
Buy boxed mashed potato mix and you don’t have to worry about the potatoes growing arms and legs.
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LADIES –
When a cake recipe calls for flouring the baking pan, use a bit of the dry cake mix instead and there won’t be any white mess on the inside of the cake.
REAL WOMEN –
Go to the bakery they’ll even decorate the pain in the neck for you.
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LADIES –
Brush some beaten egg white over pie crust before baking to yield a beautiful glossy finish.
REAL WOMEN –
Sara Lee frozen bloody pie directions do not include brushing egg whites, so I don’t do it.
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LADIES –
If you have a problem opening jars, try using latex dishwashing gloves. They give a non slip grip that makes opening jars easy.
REAL WOMEN –
Go ask the very HOT sexy guy who has just moved on next door to do it.
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And finally the most important tip….
LADIES –
Don’t throw out all that leftover wine. Freeze into ice cubes for future use in casseroles and sauces.
REAL WOMEN –
Leftover wine??
Hello ???
this psa was brought to you by
the I.B Staff
and The Doll Guy With The Big Knife
Irregular Bones 
AMM, your post reminded me of this….. I don’t know who wrote it but it is soooo true:
WHY IT TAKES SO LONG IN THE LADIES ROOM
When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it’s your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied. Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won’t latch. It doesn’t matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern “seat covers” (invented by someone’s Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn’t – so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck – as Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR – yank down your pants, and assume “The Stance.” In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You’d love to sit down, but you certainly hadn’t taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold “The Stance.” To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother’s voice saying, “Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!” Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday – the one that’s still in your purse. Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time. That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It’s still smaller than your thumbnail. Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn’t work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet. “Occupied!” you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it’s too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper – not that there was any – even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you’re certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, “You just don’t KNOW what kind of diseases you could get.” By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too. At this point you give up. You’re soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You’re exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can’t figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women, still waiting. You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman’s hand and tell her warmly, “Here, you just might need this.” As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used and left the men’s restroom. Annoyed, he asks, “What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?” This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restrooms (rest??? you’ve got to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It’s so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door! .
Author Unknown………….
That piece about the restrooms is so funny and true, Lori, but one bit was left out – the one where you are holding your pants out and away from the toilet, just in case “the stance” isn’t enough, so your trousers stay safe.
Oh, yeah. And it never fails that there is a puddle around the base of the commode, the hems of my pants will find it and connect with it.
Wow…look at this, I guess this means that Lori and Shewolfy are ” Real Women ” as opposed to ladies.
Neat stream of comments Gals 🙂
I don’t mind being called a Lady but don’t call me “ma’am.”
PS: For those of you who have been to my blog, I am exploring selected “Words of the Day” from Wordsmith.org. Yesterday’s word was “incommode.” It means “to inconvenience”. It just seemed so appropriate to this conversation on a number of levels.
🙂