Damn right we talk about men.
Fuck me, the only thing that keeps a woman sane in a relationship is the ability to dissect every word, action, physically imperfection and personality flaw of her ‘beloved’ with her most faithful girlfriends. Don’t be fooled into thinking your silence has anything to do with honor, it’s simply not in your nature, or in men’s generally to be quite so passionate in their ability to analyze every detail.
Or should the word be blatant? Because here’s the difference; women talk, we’re famous for it. We discuss, we debate, we bitch, we gossip, we mull, and yes we share. Of course I can’t talk for the whole of womankind and far be it from me to generalize but I think it’s fair to say we like feedback. So shoot us.
Why I sometimes struggle to order a drink without consulting twitter first. That’s not to say I’m going to sleep with you one night then ask Alan Sugar to RT how big your knob was the next morning, just that if a friend happens to call and I happen to have had you in my bed within the last 24 hours for the first time then you will be discussed. (Relax, if I want to see you again, you’ll get a glowing report – not all talk is bad talk.)
Men might mock us for our loose lips (you should be so lucky) and write songs about how we’ve got more rabbit than Sainsbury’s but you do the same it’s just what we call gossip you call banter.
And do you see us complaining?
If a chick is going to shag a guy in the toilets of Inferno’s after 18 shots of black Sambuca then, I’m sorry, but she’s open for debate. I’d no sooner expect a one night stand I was never going to see again to keep his mouth shut to his friends about our ‘romantic’ interlude than I would him to call me again after I was sick in my handbag halfway through giving him head (no that didn’t happen, work with me, I’m being creative) and if he didn’t have a good old ‘banter’ about it with his mates over a fry up the next morning then I could only conclude he was either mateless or thought he was going to start some kind of LTR with me at some point in the future, the poor deluded fool.
It’s exactly the same as what we do, just with a different name and a bit more streaky bacon.
That being said, just as you so graciously remind us, when talking about someone you give a shit about (yes, believe it, it can happen, not often mind you) even us ‘gossiping girlies’ can curb the chat, or at the very least highlight the good bits and skim over the bad.
Maybe you’re right and men are more private than women, or that they have a stronger sense of propriety (though I doubt this) or it’s simply a case that, whereas women get almost as much enjoyment in discussing a recent sexual interlude over a large glass of wine with friends than they do actually doing it, men just want to go straight for the blow job and bugger the conversation.
I’ve heard it said that men are often amazed at how women can spend hours, nay, days discussing the same subject. How incredible their ability to draw out a conversation about something, be it cock size, Katie Price or the current cuts in funding for the NHS to monumental lengths. And if I’m honest it is an attribute I’m extremely proud of. Where ever would we be without a full and hearty discussion. BT would be up shit creek that’s one thing I know for sure, they could pay off the national debt of a small African country the amount of time I spend gassing on the blower (focus, boys focus).
So here’s the thing, dress it up how you want, we all like to talk, you just call it something different and don’t give quite so much money to international phone companies. That being said, Cream, if you want to think of yourself as keeping quiet be my guest, a blog writer who doesn’t like to share, my, my now that is something to talk about …
Honey n Cream 