What causes that? What makes a petite little five-foot-nothing piece of fluff instantly sprout fangs and claws? How can a normally couldn't-hurt-a-fly sweetheart suddenly transform into someone who would gladly rip your lungs out, just for the fun of it? How is it possible that you can be overcome by an urge to put an emotional knife between the 4th and 5th rib of your BFF?
Our doctors try to tell us it's something called "hormones." Of course most of our doctors are men who were born clueless and got stupider over time.
Our psychologist tries to tell us it's caused by unresolved angst. Really. Step a little closer, Dr. Freud, and I'll resolve YOUR angst by shoving that cigar right down your neck.
Our friends tell us it's just "that time." Which makes us want to 'time' how long it takes us to clobber them with whatever blunt object is handy.
No, it's not hormones, angst or cramps. It's much more elemental than that. It's a combination of bismuth, technetium and hydrogen. A compound so volatile, so dangerous, and so explosive than only a woman can be trusted with it.
Technicam notitia (the technical bits)
* Mug holds 11oz / 325ml of your favorite hot or cold beverage.
* White exterior and interior.
* Lead free.
* Dishwasher and microwave safe.
* Our lawyer requires us to notify you that if you fill this mug with a hot beverage, the contents may be hot.
* We really need to get a better lawyer.