Grow a beard and steam clean your uterus

Is it my imagination or have men suddenly all grown beards? Everywhere I go it’s beards, beards, beards. I feel like I’ve wondered into a ZZ Top convention. And most of them look quite ridiculous. Even my grandson Rodney has grown a beard – well he’s tried to. It’s so patchy he looks like an alpine goat with a case of mange.  He said, “What do you think Nan? Remind you of Ned Kelly?” I said, “Yes dear, if by Ned Kelly you mean a moth eaten cat that’s been taxidermied by a retarded baboon. Then snap. It’s uncanny.” It’s important to be supportive. Then he tells me it’s all the rage now to apply scent to one’s beard. That’s right – perfume for whiskers. Have you ever heard of anything so daft? Anyway Rodney’s developed quite a penchant for it (his words, even though he’s about as French as a Chiko roll) and his favourite beard bouquet is cantaloupe. Cantaloupe! As in Rock Melon. I said, “Rodney, the only people interested in sniffing a hairy fruit are down at the Laird Leather Bar wearing cutout chaps and a PVC thong.” If you know what I mean. I’m sure some of you do. Sickos.

In other news Gwyneth Paltrow has endorsed a health spa treatment that purports to steam clean your internal lady bits.  That’s right a steam mop for your vagismus.  Dubbed the Mugwort V Steam, this “therapy” begins after you park your naked buttocks on a wooden “throne” and sit akimbo while some charlatan snake charming sham-artiste points an infrared light at your gut and sprays Mugwort infused steam around the opening of your pudenda. And she claims this will “leave your uterus squeaky clean and balance hormones”. I ask you, how can that possibly balance a hormone? Hormones are produced in the brain not the genitals. And you don’t want to be putting steam up there. That’s a good way to get a dose of Candida Blowout.

And just what the hell is mugwort? Sounds like a gruesome JK Rowling character. Certainly nothing I’d want hanging around my lady privates.

Actually perhaps Gwyneth should have a little mugwort steam clean in the upstairs department instead. You know, really douche out those ineffectual brain cells in her vacuous skull to encourage the growth of common sense! What a bonehead.

I loved her in The Talented Mr Ripley.


What’s the craziest thing you’ve seen someone do?

Tell if I’m right bloggees: cream is not a good colour for lounge-room furnishings. Right? So what kind of normal thinking person would buy themselves a cream coloured couch? I’ll tell you who, my daft daughter Rhonda. Oh sure it’s pretty but as I said to Rhonda, "That thing won’t be cream for long." And lo and behold next thing it was covered in brown muck. I said, "What did I tell you? I won’t be sitting there again, that couch is filthy." I don’t see how she thought yelling at me would get it clean either. She really is a dreadful housekeeper. But the whole house is cream. And white and stainless steel and glass. It looks like a mental hospital. Well her husband’s not right in the head. The way he flies off the handle whenever I let myself in – Insane in the membrane if you ask me. I mean, he really should install a shower curtain.