Bunnies and Jugs

I'm cooking. Yes, cooking for the first time in 2009. Well, actually I am just watching potatoes swirling around in boiling water. But there is a hob, and heat, so I think I'm cooking. Not that I am very proud of myself. I don't like housewifely things. I certainly do not want to be nominated for 'Housewife of the Year'. And it's a good thing too, because I'm never going to be nominated anyway. Well it's not as if I would put it in my C.V. either. I don't think that a 36 year old who can be a splendid housewife is really an achievement. Or perhaps I've convinced myself so well so that I don't have to worry about my skills, or lack of, again. I will never understand why there are so many cooking magazines at stationers. Why bother, when you can get Vogue, or Cosmo instead? And no I'm not even interested in the magazines on the topmost shelf. Playboy? Now why would anybody want to be a a bunny for goodness sake? A bunny, as cute as it may be, is a rodent after all. Rodents do nothing but breed all the time. They live in colonies and then when you get rodently old, they kick you out. Oh no. I really don't need the mags. I have imagination and real life as a substitute. Books with pictures were only interesting when I was one year old. Older than that, and I want my own imagination to work. And do I really need to see 'Jugs' when just the word makes me go pale? Is 'Jugs' really a good name for breasts? Come on, men can do better than that. How can a word like 'jugs' make anybody horny when it spells milk and demure tea parties? I wonder why women accept to get photographed in such magazines. I guess it's nice showing off your stuff, but not on something which is called like that. Jugs have a handle, breasts don't. They have been well crafted so as to have the ability to be handled by whoever. Jugs and bunnies are two things we can live without. I have lived without a jug for 36 years, and I've never had a bunny in my life. And I've not really suffered for going without. And yet there is a whole mansion of bunnies somewhere in the States. They like dressing up with ears and even a fluffy tail. And that's supposed to be sexy. Oh dear.