We all need more laughter, and given this is a Celtic/Arthurian blog, I thought this might do it.
I didn’t write this. I don’t know who did. It was sent to me on a listserc back in 1997 and I haven’t been able to find out where it came from. If you know, please tell me and I’ll give credit. I hope you enjoy this as much as I have.
Celtic Woman’s Rules
- Please do not talk to my breasts. You will not be meeting them.
- If you attempt to do so, you will be meeting my sword.
- My sexual preference is no. (Whoever wrote this had obviously never heard of Queen Maeve. I think this should be changed to “yes, please!” At least that would be more historically accurate.)
- Remember: my people can kick your people’s arse.
- Fifty-one percent love goddess. Forty-nine percent bitch. ALL warrior.
- Girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice – say any differently and I will slice your head off.
- If you want to control someone, become a Roman.
- Breakfast is on the table. YOU cook it.
- It is not the size of your sword that counts, it is- no, wait… size does count.
- If you disobey ANY of these rules, you should better pray your horse is FAST.
Eventually, I’ll get around to doing a series of posts on women in the Celtic world: their status, rules on marriage/divorce, children, etc. (the laws are fascinating, but very complex), so keep this funny little post in mind. It’s more accurate than you may think!