I'm going to just throw it out there and confess that my vagina really stresses me out. Sometimes we're cool with each other. She does her thing, I do mine. We're like roommates that get along but we don't necessarily hang out, giggle and compare anal bead stories. But sometimes, I really, really fucking hate her. Like I want to take a dump and hide it somewhere she can't find it and watch her confused, stressed out face everyday and secretly laugh at her pain. By this time you're probably feeling kind of bad for my peesh so let me defend myself.
1. Does she fit in with the cool kids?
Every so often I have a panic attack and experience some intense insecurity that my vagina is weird. This has led me to Google "normal and abnormal vaginas" at 4 a.m. after chugging a bottle of wine and maybe taking an Ambien, accidentally on purpose. Word of advice, NEVER Google "abnormal vagina." I seriously had nightmares for days. I'm barfing in my mouth a little just thinking about it. Also when your gay best friend comes over and discovers that you've been googling vaginas shit can get kind of weird.
I had a particularly life altering meltdown after a guy friend told me a story about this girl he'd been wanting to penetrate and how before she even took off her panties he could smell her downstairs. This was maybe the most traumatizing story I ever heard. Worse than the time my friend texted me that she'd been penetrated in both her holes by two different people in one night and felt like a double-stuffed Oreo. Re-reading this makes me realize how fucked up the people I surround myself with are. Awesome.
Anyway, all I could think about the rest of the night was if some dude had told that exact same story but about my lady parts. Is it like when you have constant B.O. but you can't smell it because you're immune to your own stink? Then I started thinking about all the other weird things that could be going on down there and every dude who'd been all up in my business was just too polite to be like "Hey, what the fuck?" So of course I decided it was completely necessary to text all the people in my phone that had been lucky enough, or smart enough to get me super drunk, to ride this train. Honestly I don't know what I would do if some dude that I hadn't talked to in months, or maybe even more like years, texted me out of the blue, "Hi. How are you? Also, is my dick weird?" Because that's exactly what I texted; well asking about my vagina obviously. I already know my dick is awesome.
I actually got positive feedback. Most dudes didn't even seem weirded out by my question. And the fact that three of them even said they'd come over and take a look again if I was down made me feel better about the whole situation. Except of course until I saw that one of the dudes had Instagramed my text. Thanks Will you assfuck. But the fact that I even felt that crazy that I needed gratification from some idiots that I don't even like as people really pisses me off. Fuck you vagina.
2. She's selfish.
If my vagina is unhappy then my entire life is ruined. There is no fun to be had if something's wrong with her. Those tampon commercials where all the girls are skipping around and wearing all white and holding hands and shit? That is not real life. A man made that tampon commercial and I hope he dies in a car fire.
The true story involves a girl dressed in super unattractive sweatpants, sobbing into her dog's fur while he struggles to get away and then forcing everyone nearby to watch Never Been Kissed over and over until someone slips her a muscle relaxer to make the hell end. Put that on primetime and suck it.
Also if she decides that she wants to have a gentlemen friend hang out in her for a little while all common sense immediately falls out of my ass. Suddenly you find yourself in the front seat of your Yaris honking the horn with your ass and pretending that no one walks through a parking lot at night. Or all I want to do is lay in my bed and watch Snapped but she forces me to make myself attractive so she can try to get it in. See, like I said, SELFISH. We're like Snooki and JWoww. Without the fake tans.
3. High maintenance like an OC housewife.
I could probably have a nicer car and maybe take a vacation but no, my vagina needs things. Because she stresses me out so much and is an attention whore I have to keep her well maintained. I really don't want anyone all up in my downstairs unless we're having an adult sleepover and I've downed a bottle of booze. However, I also don't want one of my man friends to have to excavate to find my clitoris. Thus I've become extremely comfortable with my girl Raj who rips hair off of my labia once a month. This is an awkward experience. Dudes, if you discover that a girl you're penetrating has a hairless kitty you should show some gratitude. Seriously. A round of applause wouldn't be overkill in my opinion. Imagine meeting someone for 8 seconds and then immediately letting them put a spotlight on your no touch zone and slather hot wax all up in your asshole. Exactly. Vaginas are a nightmare.
4. She's like the embarrassing uncle that gets drunk and touches everyone.
My vadge has a way of getting me involved in awkward situations. Like when my parents failed to tell me that the room they moved me into, when I decided to have a mid-life crisis and try to discover what it all means while not paying bills, had see through curtains. The last thing you want is to make eye contact with a next door neighbor when you're wearing your albino birthday suit. Thanks mom and dad.
Or the time that I thought I had the herpes and forced my friend's boyfriend who is a Murse (man nurse for those of you out of the loop) to look at my downstairs. You can't help but walk with your head down in shame when a guy who is normally so pleasant sighs sadly, says "That's an ingrown hair. Clearly." and then asks you not to hug him until you put your pants back on. If I had a penis this would never happen. Or I'd already have waved it in everyone's face so it wouldn't be a big deal if I put it on the kitchen table during a game of flip cup. Bad, bad kitty.
I know I've been throwing a lot of shade in the direction of my basement. I mean I guess I should be grateful that I don't have one of the nasty boxes that showed up during my Google nightmare. Also I've seen a group of teenagers scream when they saw an African American vagina because they thought it was STD ridden and/or burned beyond recognition.
Maybe I'll learn to appreciate her. Ugh, there she goes answering my text messages again. Son of a...
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