PUSSY GALORE, MEET MRS PLOD-ALONG
I always wanted a cool nickname. As cool as The Fonz or Mr. October, or cute and sexy like, you know, Pussy Galore.
Well today the dream died. It happened whilst I was dropping the kids off at school. I was late as usual, and all psyched up to negotiate the school’s door security (double doors, outer lobby, entry buzzer concealed behind massive papier-mache dinosaur, more double doors, another lobby, you get the picture), when a woman I know suddenly said, “Look at you, Mrs Plod-Along. I love your style.”
Mrs Plod-Along? MRS.PLOD.ALONG?
Deep breath. Chill out. I know that what she really meant was “I love your devil-may-care attitude towards lateness.” (How could she know that beneath my carefree exterior lies pain, paranoia, exhaustion and self-loathing?) But still! Mrs Plod-Along! Are you sure? Don’t you mean Pussy Galore? Didn’t you see the way I emerged Bond-Girl-like from those puddles at the other end of the yard?
For fucksakes.
And so it is that ‘Mrs Plod-Along’ joins a long list of mocking epithets, confidence-sapping sobriquets, or, in other words, totally and utterly shitty nicknames. Such as:
- ‘Butterfingers’. This was my name during Rounders - or as I prefer to call it - Bullying.
- ‘Common, Coarse and Crude’. My brother’s name for me. Probably because I once said “bloody hell” or “for godsakes” during grace. Other variations included “Plebeian Prostitute”, “Debauched and Disgusting”, and, in a reckless departure from alliteration, “Vile Troll”.
- In university, an ex-boyfriend referred to me as ‘Fister’. I won’t expand on the reasons - this is a family-friendly blog - except to say that he never complained about my technique at the time. He’s the bloody w**ker if you ask me.
- Today, my partner has a nickname for me. It is ‘The Bottomless Pit of Need’. I don’t think he means bottomless in the sense of ‘having no bottom’. (I have a bottom, although it is nothing like Pippa Middleton’s bottom, more like Shrek’s.) What I think he means is that, sometimes, I like to engage him in conversation.
So until someone comes up with something better, like Pussy Galore, I think I’ll stick with Flossing the Cat.
PS: I’ve just found a Facebook page called I Hate Rounders. Please please like it. It’s SUCH a good cause.
PPS: Fister - IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK.
PPS: Fister - IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK.
PPPS: Any other shitty nicknames you’d like to share? Anyone? I feel so alone here. Motherventing, Older Mum, SAHDANDPROUD? Get out of deep field. You have been tagged.
Hang on a second - you FISTED your ex-boyfriend? Am I reading that correctly? Is that what one does to boyfriends? Wow. No wonder I never had any.
ReplyDeleteThis is very funny. And also potentially very angst-ridden, as I attempt to drag these shameful soubriquets out from the depths of my memory into the light.
We might be in for a long night.
Noooooooooooo! I have just read my own post and realised that it does indeed sound as though I practise/d the dark arts of fisting. I can see that I'm going to have to spell it out. Are we sitting comfortably. Make your hand into the shape of a fist. Imagine that you're holding something in your hand, probably a little too enthusiastically. Alternatively I may just rewrite/delete this post.
ReplyDeleteMahaahhahahahhahahahhaha to be honest, that's not much better. You might as well have fisted him.
ReplyDeletePlease don't delete/rewrite, it's just too funny.
Great post. But beware! I recently entitled a post Pussies Galore and now the only search words highlighted in my stats are 'pussies' and, this week, 'middle-aged pussies'! Sadly the stats don;t show what happened when these hungry surfers found themselves amid the ramblings of a vicar's wife
ReplyDeleteOoops. I knew I should have gone for poo-shee. (As pronounced by Bond.) Of course, I also have 'fister' to worry about. What on earth was I thinking! Anyway, I'm sure those landing on your page aren't disappointed, what with all those X-rated Doris Day lyrics...
ReplyDeleteHey there Pussy Galore. No sorry I can't call you that. Hmmm... I'm not surprised you want to live those ones down. I'm pretty lucky and have escaped being given nicknames except for all the variations of Rebecca including the slightly more imaginative Reebok. My brother had a few for me. Spud was his favourite (charming!) and Boris (something to do with the tennis player I think)
ReplyDeleteWhat an idiot your ex is. Doesn't he know a lady never tells.
Reebok? Boris? Are you perchance sporty? I hope I haven't offended you with my scathing attack on Rounders!!! It's a jolly good game, really it is...
ReplyDeleteLoving your Tuesday tea and sympathy meme by the way. My blogs will all fit the bill, I can promise you that!! x
Brilliant. Most glad to have found you :)
ReplyDeleteThanks kate. I like yours too! As the actress said to the bishop x
ReplyDeleteBeen on a bit of a blogging hiatus this week - I think its called writers block. Never liked rounders ..... had the bat smacked in my face a few times !!!????***. Cheers for the tag - that's opening up a can of bad nicknames. Shall unveil in due course!
ReplyDelete'Bottomless pit of need?!' I just laughed so hard a bit of wee came out. Your partner and mine would get along.
ReplyDeleteHi motherporridge. Be thankful that your wee only came out after some hard laughing action, and then only a little drip. I, o the other hand, am like a little mouse. In the sense that if you had one of those ultra-violet LED tracker lights, you could probably see the trail of wee I leave around the house.
ReplyDeleteOff to visit your blog now...