Active Columns:

Mar 21, 2010 - Deja Vu
Mar 28, 2010 - SeizurePalooza
Oct 18, 2009 - Born to Run
Oct 12, 2009 - Give it a Rest
Oct 2, 2009 - ...Bitch on a Budget
May 12, 2009 - The Brazilian
Feb 14, 2009 - My date with "Adam"
Feb 6, 2009 - Valentine's Day? BAH!
Feb 2, 2009 - Won't get Fooled...
Jan 14, 2009 - Here Kitty Kitty...
Jan 12, 2009 - On The Mend
Dec 12, 2008 - A Not-So-Merry Christmas
Dec 8, 2008 - Ivan's Move
Nov 30, 2008 - Quick Update
Nov 7, 2008 - And God Says...
Nov 6, 2008 - It's Not Looking Good...
Sep 24, 2008 - Shake Hands With The Devil
Sep 23, 2008 - It's Just Like Paris
Sep 17, 2008 - Memoirs of a Catholic...
Sep 16, 2008 - Suicidal Tendencies
Sep 15, 2008 - Fat is a Feminist Issue
Sep 14, 2008 - Get Me Out of Here
Sep 13, 2008 - Living with the 'rents
May 20, 2008 - I'm Not Dead Yet
May 19, 2008 - PSA
Apr 29, 2008 - Are You There God?
Apr 14, 2008 - Frightening the Neighbors
Mar 17, 2008 - The Border
Mar 10, 2008 - The Vibrator
Oct 8, 2007 - Ivan the Terrible
Sept 20, 2007 - Depression?
July 19, 2007 - An Update
July 3, 2007 - A Good Catch
March 26, 2007 - Crushed
March 19, 2007 - Adieu le feu
March 12, 2007 - Taking a Chance
Feb 26, 2007 - Biological Clock
Oct 16, 2006 - Determination...
July 15, 2006 - The Puppy
July 10, 2006 - The Gastroenterologist
July 8, 2006 - The Neurology Ward
Nov 21, 2005 - Who Would You Do?
Nov 14, 2005 - Shaved Pussies
Nov 7, 2005 - Avoidance
Sep 26, 2005 - love, kindness, missed chances
Aug 2, 2005 - Geoff the Entomologist
Aug 1, 2005 - Revenge
May 11, 2005 - Going for it
May 21, 2005 - The Green Thumb
Apr 22, 2005- Barry Again
Apr 21, 2005 - The Rectal Syringe
Apr 18, 2005 - Butterflies of Love
Apr 17, 2005 - No escape
Apr 10, 2005 - Meeting Colin Farrell
Oct 17, 2004 - Oops, I've done it again
Oct 21, 2004 - Lust
Oct 30, 2004 - Of Mice and Men
Nov 5, 2004 - What the FUCK...?
Oct 12, 2004 - The US Election
Oct 11, 2004 - MegaCleanse
Oct 5, 2004 - Life Sucks
Jul 8, 2004 - The Horoscope
Jun 15, 2004 - Seven Deadly Sins
Apr 24, 2004 - Going Out
Feb 24, 2004 - Tails
Jan 24, 2004 - The Decorator
Aug 25, 2003
July 18, 2003
July 17, 2003
July 16, 2003
May 19, 2003
May 18, 2003
May 17, 2003
May 16, 2003
May 1, 2003
Mar 10, 2003
Jan 25, 2003
Jan 24, 2003
Jan 23, 2003
Apr 30, 2002
Apr 30, 2003
May 29, 2002
May 12, 2002
May 18, 2001
January 10, 2001
December 11, '00
April 17, '00
The Goddess of battle, strife, and destruction explains it all for you

April 12, 2005


I ran into my friend Solange last week while I was waiting for a train at St. Clair station. I hadn’t seen in a while - she’d been wrapped up in a new romance with some banker type and had been blissfully ignoring her friends.


I did a double take when I saw her: she certainly didn’t look like a woman in love. She was in scruffy jeans, her hair needed a wash and she had a face on her like thunder. Solange is from Montreal, where fashion sense is decanted along with breast milk. Seeing her unkempt was a sign of trouble.


I had to go up and tap her on the shoulder - she wasn’t making eye contact with anyone. "Salut, toi. How’s Prince Charming?", I asked - and was rewarded with a poisonous scowl that knocked me back several paces. "What? What did I say??"


"Turns out he’s no prince and far from charming" she spat through gritted teeth. "And if I ever get my hands on the filthy bastard, I’ll swing for him."


"What happened?" I had to shout over the noise of the oncoming subway.


"He was sleeping around" she yelled back.


We surged toward the train, propelled by the horde of impatient commuters behind us.


"Do you know this for a fact or are you guessing?"


"Oh, it’s true all right." She stormed into the car, elbowed an old lady out of the way and slammed her knapsack onto the seat beside us.


"How do you know? Did you catch him at it? Did he confess?" I was bewildered. Not a month ago, she was telling me he was The One.


"In a manner of speaking" she said, and grimly picked at her fingernails.


"How do you know he was cheating on you?"


Oops. The conversation was beginning to attract an avid audience.


"Pas en anglais," she said, indicating the crowd surrounding us.


Oh God. Although all Canadians speak some French (it is compulsory in schools), I haven’t needed mine to do much more than translate cereal boxes for quite some time. Clearly, I was going to have to work for this bit of gossip. I took a deep breath.


"D’accord. Qu'a-t-il fait ?"


She leaned over and whispered. "Il m'a donné... il m’a donné... " Her eyes filled with tears.


"Quoi??" I was starting to get worried. This is not a woman who cries easily.


She couldn’t bring herself to say it. "Je suis sûr que vous pouvez deviner... "


"Non - je n’ai aucune idée. Dites moi ce qui s'est produit."


She gestured towards her crotch in misery. I went cold.


"Non, non" she hastened to assure me. "Rien sérieux, mais... ." She mimed an emphatic scratch.


"Oh my God! Les, les... " I groped through my limited vocabulary for the word. "Les papillons de l’amour!"


She laughed bitterly. "The butterflies of love. That sounds almost pleasant" she said.


It does, doesn’t it?


Because the provincial curriculum mandated the use of one text and standardized lesson plans, my high school French teacher spent years subjecting us to the tedious lives of Madame and Monsieur Leduc -- who never had sex or got drunk and seemed to spend their time driving aimlessly around Chicoutimi, buying potatoes, asking for directions and discussing the weather.


You'd think that educators seeking to foster a real understanding between theTwo Solitudes would teach us useful stuff like how to pick someone up, where to buy weed in Longueuil or which bars in Deschambault would serve you without a valid Age of Majority card. Luckily, nation-wide exchange programs have guaranteed that the youth of Canada can get laid and find killer pot in either official language from Vancouver to St. John's and all points between. Thank God for education, eh?


We both had a bit of time, so we adjourned to a nearby Tim Horton’s to talk.


It was bad enough that the guy had given her crabs in the first place -- what was worse was that she claimed to have no idea that she was a walking entomological ecosystem. (How can you not notice that your underwear is crawling with lice?)


"The girl who was doing my bikini wax found them... I can’t tell you how embarrassing that was. I thought I was itchy because I had dry skin. I’ve been going to her for years. Now I’m going to have to leave town, n’est-ce pas?"


Leave town?! Personally, if the woman doing my waxing happened to mention that my crotch was writhing with cooties, I’d have to kill myself on the spot. Solange looked at me with big, brown eyes filling with tears and I struggled to say something that would console her.


"Uh, I hope you tipped her."


Till next time,




Copyright© the Morrigan & Heartless Bitches International ( 2004
go to top

Pause your cursor over each link below for a more detailed description

Search HBI
   Collected Quotes
   The Manipulator Files
   Nice Guys? BLEAH
   Auntie Dote
   Honorary HBs
   Adult Books
   Kids Books
   Privacy Policy
   HBI Sitings


Want to link to HBI?

  Want to know when we update? Subscribe to our "What's New" RSS Feed

(What is an RSS Feed?)

Get SharpReader - our favorite RSS aggregator - it's free!

If you don't have a Newsreader, you can subscribe to updates via email:

Enter your Email

Powered by FeedBlitz

Add this Content to Your Site