Madonna is not in the room
Hoping the Voodoo Fest does something for the gris gris that is floating around these parts – everyone seems crotchety, including me.
Take this simple exchange – it’s a bad habit of mine to care more than I should – so today when I voiced my concern about someone and the response was “okay mother” – “blech” was all I had to say to myself. I’ve never liked the idea of women who mother men – it gives me the willies outright – and believe me I know enough women who like role-playing as mother to their men to know that it makes me utter a resounding blech.
I prefer role-playing where me woman, you man. Not me mother, you man. If all of life is a stage, and the roles are Madonna or Mary Magdelene – I’d ask to play the whore every time.