Books Magazine

Let's Do It.

By Ashleylister @ashleylister

Tonight, yet again (drum roll please) it is the DGP Open Mic Night.  Cafe No5 at 6pm.  Tonight's theme is in honor of the Bard's birthday month as we have a Shakespearean evening accompanied by "voluntary" fancy dress.  Please come down and join in the fun!

What’s ET short for?
‘Cause he’s got little legs.
This was the funniest joke in my repertoire that I hung onto for dear life, a remnant of a time when I was convinced that transitioning into the next Dawn French or Jennifer Saunders would get me all the boyfriends I could wish for.  This never quite became reality.
However I tried the ET joke out a couple of weeks ago on an unwitting victim who actually knew the answer.  For the first time in a long time I was a bit stumped for words and I was then barraged with a large quantity of much more terrible, brilliant jokes.  The jury is out on whether this was a meeting of minds or of future psychiatric ward buddies.  Either way, we’ll be laughing.
I think it is always hard to balance humor as a woman.  There are many topics men can jape and joke about that would embarrass a lot more people if they heard it from the mouth of a woman.  I know this is ever evolving, ever changing as more female comedians develop and become prominent, but there is still that underlying discomfort associated with a woman acting in an ungainly "inappropriate" manner - pretty much how my mother reacts at many of my poems for DGP events.  I'm sure I've described the Linda Blair reaction of my mother to my more inappropriate verses previously in all it's glory.  I now have to censor a lot of my writing before I ask her to proof read!
When I think of women being funny, all I end up thinking about is Victoria Wood gags.  It can't be helped.  There is something so inherently accurate in her observational humor which was responsible for turning many old fashioned ideas on their heads.

Take the "not tonight dear, I've got a headache" scenario.  For years, growing up, it seemed like an inevitable doom that if I settled down with a guy, my sex drive would go from plenty to zero.  I'm sure that this was some sort of male propaganda to get men out of marriage because frankly it is a load of bull.  I have heard tell of far more men with "tiredness issues" than of women having to turn down a romp in the sack.  Victoria Wood had this bizarre situation nailed in her song entitled "The Ballad of Barry and Frieda."

So I've dug out a poem written a while ago about being single.  I am really not this jaded, but I was having a bad night and a lot of wine - the perfect ingredients for any man rant!  Mum, you won't like it (I'm sorry attack of the bad language again!!) so put the iPhone down,  don't scroll any further....  The rest of you, I hope you find it funny!

Single lifeBeing single isn’t all it’s cracked up to beWhen you are looking for romance off of the telly,No-one warns you about all the pit falls and traps,How you’ll never have sufficiently proportioned baps.We look for a man like wet shirted DarcyAnd suffering failure, tend to get arsey.One true love, it’s not asking a lot,Kind hearted, sweet and of course HOT.A bit of totty to keep us happySo long as his teeth aren’t too gappy,He can’t be bald or going greyOr keeping angry ex’s at bay.So we find a man who ticks all those boxesWho doesn’t seem to spend all day chasing foxes.And thank our lucky stars that he’s thereWith decent dentistry work and a head of hair.But wait a second, we’ve been bit,This one’s just another tit!This time it’s not another girl,It’s intimacy issues, I want to hurl!In future we need to change all this,Instead of having men take the piss;We should draft up a contract nice and thickBanning all suitors from being a prick,Banning the hunks and banning the boysFrom treating us girls like unwanted toys.Claiming our right to be princesses and queens,At least until we no longer fit in our jeans.But by then he should have worked up a gut,Full of home cooking and chips in crinkle cut.He’ll spend all day getting under our toes,Words will start off barbed then come to blows,Separate TV’s, dinners and arm chairsIn our own separate, walled-off lairs.All so we can sit like our mothers before us,Gazing at men wondering what all the fuss was!Like I say, nothing personal.  I rather like guys as it happens.  Well, some anyway! :-)  Thanks for reading.L x

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