Well damn diggity dawg, it’s another blog post and about time some of you might say. This has been a week of poopyheads and diggities, as many of you who have been into AAi will know.
I seem to have had the trouble gene in triplicate, acting up all over the shop and generally being contentious and mayhem-loving.
I’ll start (as I often do) by talking about a friend. Let’s call him EIEIO (and on the farm he had some ducks, EIEIO – it’s a nursery rhyme, I’ve not lost it!). It’s becoming evident that he feels victimised slightly by my friendship and this due in the main to my proclivity to rain insults down upon him, as if they were pennies from heaven.
Is that because I secretly don’t like him? God no! It’s because I do.
This week I have christened him Poopyhead – which sadly caught on pretty well, so now his other female friends are calling him Poopyhead too. I also took the mickey out of his hats, for which I am now sorry. A man losing his hair at such a tender age is no laughing matter and I should have perhaps been more supportive.
The thing is… he’s not alone. I have various male friends that I am pretty horrible to, at least publicly.
Grazzle Dazzle can attest to that. I tell him he dances like an doofus, he is a girl, and anything he says in chat I try to jump on and slice and dice him with.
Do I do this to my female friends? Diggity no, I do not. I am very supportive to my female friends, telling them how lovely they look and how funny and clever they are (‘cus they are! all of them! beautiful, intelligent, wonderful people).
So that’s odd.
Maybe I like women more than men? Nah. That isn’t it, I love men and not just in the ooer way either.
It came to me in a blinding flash in AAi when we were mid-terrorising Poopyhead, I mean, EIEIO, and I remembered being a little girl with big brothers and how the only affection we showed each other was truly vile. All attention between my brothers and me centered around saying bad things, blowing raspberries (usually on me), and ruining any quality time the other one was having with a book or the TV or some Lego.
So, if I like a guy, I’m nasty to him. Hmm. It’s a wonder I ever got a man of my very own and I have new respect to any man who remains on my friend’s list and puts up with me.
Let’s hear it for the boys.. the stinky stupid poopyheads 🙂
Photo of Poopyhead and Princess Lovely Pants Becks, taken by Becks x