Conclusion

CONCLUSION

How do I find a suitable place to conclude this little pot pourri of experiences?  It is really difficult to stop once I get started as those who know and love me will tell you.  Please, dear reader when you sit down and peruse this verbal diarrhoea with your cup of Nescafe and your Garibaldi biscuit clutched in your sweaty, little hands, remember to take it in the spirit in which it was written and enjoy it for what it is.  A load of clap trap - No I mean a load of clap trap is written about the differences between Men and Women by better and more educated people than what I am.  (as Ernie Wise would say)

In fact there is a load of clap trap written about everything in general and all I ever wanted to do was take the heat and seriousness out of something we all encounter in our everyday lives and make you laugh.  If I have achieved the odd titter then great and if I haven’t then - get a life you boring old farts and while you’re at it a sense of humour.  The majority of us struggle from one month end to another trying to make ends meet, coping with all of the humdrum slime, life throws in our path and for the most part we do a bloody good job of it just by staying in touch with reality.  There are those amongst us who spend most of their waking moment analysing every aspect of their lives from rearing normal children, staying slim, young and gorgeous to - how to keep the magic in romance.  Some of our American cousins have this self analysis down to a fine art and I find myself asking why do they persist in combing through the rudimentary parts of life with a nit comb?  They use phrases like, ‘Getting in touch with ones inner self’ and ‘Finding ones own inner space’ what does it mean and who gives a shit?  But this is a country who once had a President who acted with a monkey (and the monkey won the Oscar) so need I say more?

Anyway all of this emphasis on group session therapy got me thinking and what you have just read is a product of that thought.  That in itself is clearly disturbing evidence on how my brain works.  Well its not the only product, I did come away with a nasty headache, a callous on my typing digit and a sharp pain from the knife in my back after my loved one had finished reading the incriminating evidence.  So instead of, ‘Getting into where you are coming from’ to quote the familiar hippy vernacular, ‘Enjoy where you have been, Man’.  It takes all kinds to make this world go round and life is far too short to waste time, sitting around contemplating the fluff in your navel.  Accept yourself for who you are and the abilities you have to offer, and no, this is not some arty farty hippy attitude I acquired back in the swinging 60s (and yes I am old enough) its just plain old common sense and not precocious pretence.

Enough of this condescending drivel, just read the damn thing, have a laugh, then bung it under the bed to collect dust along with his vast collection of ‘Huge Honkers’ magazines.  I was going to add, that if I have spread a little sunshine in what is usually your dingy humdrum existences, then my job is complete but Mum didn’t breed no liar.  The truth of it is, if any of you out there know any big wig publishers then do me a favour and push this their way.  I could easily get used to caressing my Pulitzer prize while the Man that does.........does.

Oh an afterthought, for any Men out there reading this (go on I know you can read, its not joined up writing and there are pictures) the answer is categorically NO - I’m not a left wing, a feminist, an activist or even Body Mist, Man hater - I’m not a lesbian, thespian, dungaree wearing cynic either who has never known the love of a good man.  I love Men, bless them all, some of my favourite people are Men.  My Dad was a Man, my Son is a Man, one of my best friends is a Man and my husband.............well he’s all man let me tell you and last but not least - my pussy is a Man, now work that one out ...........amigos.

THE END

(MAYBE)!!