A Tribute to That Other Group of Second Class Citizens--Whiners, Oops I Mean, Women

Many years ago some of my writer buddies and I put together STEW--Stories of Tired Emotional Whiners, Oops, I Mean Women (a borderline politically incorrect readers' theatre). We preformed it on college campuses, for First Night celebrations and at private functions. And yes, we even got paid!!!!

In honor of Women's History Month, here is the opening to our performance.

But first...

Imagine the whiners---hot, sexy women, sober for once….delivering the lines with power and authority and of course, perfect timing. 

Picture the hotsexywhiners alternating some lines and joining in on the chorus for others. For the last verse, picture our fingers in the sign of the girl scout oath (even though all of us are far from girl scouts).

If that doesn’t work: pour yourself a drink. Poetry always works better under the influence.

We Are Women

We are mother
daughter
wife
friend
lover

We are nurse
chef
secretary
seamstress
mistress

We are bitch

We are stock broker, ego stroker
Woolite soaker, midnight toker

We are bread baker, xanax taker,
butt shaker, orgasm faker

We are homemaker
home wrecker
homeless
hopeless
lawless
We are braless

We are historical, hysterical, pms-tical

We lack testicles (but not balls)

We are keepers of tradition, the faith,
The books, matched pairs
(and underwear)

We are keeper of fish, puppies, turtles, kitty
Cats (and large rats)


We are Women.

We must stick together

Through all types of weather

We must fight the blues and go in twos.


On my honor, I will try, to go to the john,
accompanied by one or more women, to repair
makeup, fluff hair, and talk about…Hillary Clinton.

For the sake of full disclosure, the original last line was actually Bill Clinton.  But you know, we whiners have come a ways since then, Thank Gloria.

Posted at Humor Blogs.