Sisterhood of ranting pants

It’s at about this point that I would like to tell everyone that I’m a little bit weird. Like, random weird. I think about the most random things that only really intelligent people can keep up.

For example, half an hour ago I came up with this nutty concept, that I should start a ‘Sisterhood of ranting pants‘ just like the ‘Sisterhood of travelling pants’.

At this point you may have realised I have NOOOOO idea what ‘Traveling Pants‘ is about, you’re totally right. It’s a totally confusing title for a movie that I would probably never watch. Unless someone gave me a packet of Cheezos. Decent size please.

But back to seriousness. Have you realised how much women rant? I can now totally understand why men would fade in and out of conversations with us.

What got me started was when I overheard two women on the train talking about nail polish early this morning. If you didn’t know what they were talking about and just watched their facial expressions, you would think one of them discovered an alternate universe or something. Just kind of incredulous and mind shattering looks between the women. So for the entire trip I listened to one of them rant on about how her nails cracked and what sort of inconveniences they caused her. What’s more, at one point I heard the other one say something along the lines of “…honey, buying good nail polish is like buying a house, it’s an investment.”

L.O.L. But I didn’t. Because that’ll be rude.

So the second moral of that story is that don’t sniff too much nail polish fumes. They make you funny.

So what changed half an hour ago is that I realised that, even thought I got off the train thinking those women were boring and silly, but I have probably ranted to someone else about mooooooore mundane and silly things. And my friend probably would nod their heads and give me the sympathetic look that I really really needed. We need to get together more often to rant a little, in private. Just to get those frustration out of our system because we all have it in us. Whether it’s because your broke your nail or because you had a horrible week or whatever.

So from today, I’ll be enlisting people to start my own little club. One of the first people I’d like to enlist to join would be our Prime Minister. I’d think she would have a thing or two to say about you-know-who.

Hint: Not Voldemort.

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