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OMELETS, PRINCE OF DANES (AND OTHER OUTRAGEOUS FORTUNES)
Sandy Taylor
Sandy has given her
permission to help myself to her Omelets. It's a winner in my book. Enjoy!
When I first moved to
Chile, I had to be very careful when I pronounced my street--Las Penas (the
cliffs). It might come out sounding like
I lived on "the pines", "the pineapples" or a specific part
of the male anatomy (plural no less).
I must take umbrage at the gender issue. Why are garbage, war, pestilence and plague
all feminine? So are hemorrhoids, warts
and filth. Any reasonable person would
have to admit that this isn't fair.
Don't try to ply me with flowers, just because they're feminine. I'm too angry to care. Yes, anger is feminine. Is it any wonder?
Dogs and cats are masculine.
Snakes, cockroaches, spiders, ants and rats are feminine. They'd never get away with this in the
U.S. Birds are masculine, and we all
know what they can do to the hood of a car.
It seems only right that pigs, monkeys and donkeys are masculine. It doesn't matter whether the chicken or the
egg came first, because they're both male (except, one presumes, for the female
which laid the egg). For that matter,
even gender is masculine (el masculino and el feminino).
Sunshine is masculine, but shadows are feminine. Even rainbows are masculine. Give me a break! Women are held responsible for bad
weather--snow, rain, fog and thunderstorms--but we can blame the resulting
accidents on men. Wind is masculine
(now there's a real surprise). Is it any
wonder that anxiety and death are feminine?
Most rooms in the house are feminine. A notable exception--you guessed it--the
bathroom. The bathtub is feminine, but
the sink and toilet are masculine. The
body part most closely associated with the toilet is also masculine. Some things do make sense. Our mouths are feminine, but so are
whiskers. See him standing in his manly
socks at his manly sink shaving those pesky feminine whiskers down his masculine
drain. Oops! He'd better be careful! His razor is feminine.
We must be careful, ladies.
You may not realize it, but your brassiere is masculine, so watch what
you say in its presence. So is your
purse. Shh! You can't even whisper in
front of them, because whispers are masculine.
That doesn't seem right. Zippers
are masculine, too. Incredibly, dirt and rocks are feminine, but
diamonds are masculine. No wonder nightmares are feminine.
Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness are
feminine. Pride and profanity are
masculine. Danger is masculine; safety
is feminine. Duty and honor are
masculine; so are courage and fear. Blame
and apology are feminine, as are faith and fidelity (of course). The church is feminine and the circus is
masculine. Women own laughter (and have
much to laugh about) and men have tears. Success and failure are masculine; strength and weakness are feminine. Shouts and even kisses are masculine. Prejudice is masculine; vanity is
feminine.
The worst outrage of all is the word for
"Handcuffs" --esposas. Yep,
that's the same word as wife. Watch it
boys, revolvers may be masculine, but shotguns are feminine and so are bullets.
Who makes up this stuff?
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