Because I can.....

Day 2 at the new job - looking for job 28. Why? Because life is too short. Nope, I don’t ask or expect anyone to understand me. I like being a puzzle. Anyway, until job 28 approaches, in job 27 they mentioned the company cars that I have to drive around to do certain stuff. What sort of cars are they? They are trucks. Okay maybe not trucks but they make my car Ida seems tiny. Is it a good thing to put a woman with attitude behind the wheel of a big car? Sure it is…providing I can get inside it. I am of the shortish persuasion and as I get older I, like the other women of my family, am shrinking. Not in of course. That would be too bloody much to hope for. Things I used to be able to reach easily, I now have to stand on my toes for. I often notice that in a crowd, I cannot see over the top. This is why I have to hustle my way to the front to find out anything. See? Not my fault if I’m pushy.

Anyway, scrambling up gracefully into a big arsed truck thingy is hard to do. I, at all times, like to remain a lady out in public. In private I do whatever I like. However my mother’s teachings remain in my mind. And when I say ‘lady’ I don’t mean a prissy one that says “Oh dear me, I couldn’t so that.” It’s about dignity and not flashing parts of you

that you don’t want others to see. It’s about decorum, baby. I am often repulsed at some of the clothes I see people wearing. Nah, it’s got nothing to do with being fashionable. It’s about the amount of flesh you show out in public. Am I a prude? I don’t believe so but it is only Tuesday and the week is young, damn it. What I mean is women walking around with their arses hanging out of shorts or showing off mountainous cleavage. I once, in my duties, had to talk to a co-worker about the cleavage she had on display. How do you do this when it’s a personal thing and could be embarrassing? I said “B, here’s the thing, you sit in a team of women. Everyone has breasts. They know what they’re all about and the power of them. You are wasting them on us. I suggest you take ‘em home and trot ‘em out on the weekend to maximum effect to dazzle the male of the species.” She just laughed and said she wondered when she would get the ‘talk’. Apparently her boobs were infamous for hanging out.


Like everything. I believe it’s up to the individual, but I would suggest not everyone wants to see your bits and pieces so be selective. Let’s face it – mystery sells just as much as sex -and mystery is what keeps you intrigued. I love wondering what’s going on. Why did he give me that look? What am I supposed to do now? How can I drive him insane enough that he can’t help but come to me? You’re women – you know what I’m talking about. Or, if you are a man reading this - you also know what I mean and leave a bloody comment will you? Men are so quiet. Thanks muchly.

What’s Emmeline up to now?

The always entertaining Kelly on www.kkirch.blogspot.com left us with…

The methodical beating of drums began. From her vantage overlooking one of the temples, people left their huts to congregate at the bottom of steep steps. The steps ascended to a stone altar. Be-decked in feathers and shell, teeth and skins, a sculpted man emerged from the opening beyond the altar. He was more god than man and his subjects worshiped him as such. He raised his primitive implement in the air and screamed.

The people froze, the clouds parted as though commanded. Emmeline stared with disbelief as the Triad appeared at his side. Bound and gagged, they had been prepped for a massacre.

I’m going with…

“Psst, are you after the Tourmaline Chalice?" A man with a tattooed face whispered to Emmeline as he sidled up to her.

“Yeah - are these three a sacrifice?”

“Nah, it's a Cooksian marriage ceremony. One woman is roped to two men. It’s considered most enjoyable."

“Uh huh…” Emmeline dragged her eyes away. She was appalled yet fascinated. All those parts rubbing together like that and...She shook her head. Concentrate woman. “So where's the chalice?”

“Give me the code given to you by the villagers to prove your identity.”

Emmeline rolled her eyes. “Turtles in parachutes make excellent targets for swans with tambourines.”

He nodded. “Yet the rain is painful for the Queen of Hearts.”

“But only on a Sunday in Mudgee.” What a load of crap…

“Okay good, you are the one they spoke of. Come with me.” They moved through the throng into a hut where an old woman sat.

“Are you pure of heart?” The crone asked Emmeline. “Only the innocent can touch the chalice.”

Fucking loopholes. "Uh, yeah sure, that’s me.”

“Show me your eyes.” Emmeline leaned down and stared at her.

“Arrrggghhh!” The old woman jumped to her feet in alarm. “It cannot be you!”

“It was last time I looked.” Freaking nutcase.

The woman flung herself to her knees. “Your majesty, I have waited so long for your magnificent presence.”

“Okay…” What the frig is going on?

“I will give you chalice. Use it for good and do not let the curse worry you.”

Oh what? A fucking curse now? “What curse old woman?”

A curse now…what next? Check out Anny on www.annycook.blogspot.com for all the answers or maybe more questions tomorrow.

www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?