Home stories Apparently It’s Weird To Talk About My Vagina.

Apparently It’s Weird To Talk About My Vagina.

written by M.E. Evans December 20, 2012

I woke up at six a.m. to write this, then I sent it to Francesco for commentary just to give him a veto option. He’s very conservative, not like republican conservative, but more like “oh my god what will people think?” conservative. When he returned home from work I jumped in front of him demanding to know his opinion curious to whether or not he would be offended for me. He smiled politely and then turned pink, “Well, honey, it’s funny but I think it’s weird to write about your vagina.” Touché. So I asked if it was weird because we’re married and it’s MY vagina or he just doesn’t like it when people write the word vagina in general. He said it was more of an “in general thing.” I started to think that maybe he’s right, maybe it’s going a little too far. But then I was like, NO! Because MY VAGINA IS AWESOME. And he’s obviously just jealous because I have an “Awesome” and he has a light-saber which is mostly also awesome except guys can accidentally sit on their own junk which is weird. And that sounds painful. So, nice try Francesco.

Anyhow, my original vagina story stemmed from a long line of really annoying astrology articles that kept talking shit on my bedside manner. I don’t really believe in horoscope stuff but I like to check it out occasionally just to see if I’m going to die or whatever. Everytime I read something about The Dreaded Virgo, I’m shocked by how well they know me, yes, I am neurotic, OCD, and paranoid…But! I am not a mental prude. It’s like the whole world of psychics ganged up on us and decided, “let’s hit them where it hurts, say that they think weird stuff about sex!” Some astrology asshole must have been dumped by a virgo or something. Get over it, asshole! It’s total bullshit and it’s bad publicity. The truth is that Im kind of a mental pervert, (but not in that way so don’t send me weird photos of midget porn. I only look at that stuff when I need inspiration for my best friend’s birthday gifts, etc). The only thing other than conspiracy that could explain such a blatant lie is that these star-reader people are confusing vagina ego for some other lame thing. I’ll admit it, I think my vagina is bad-ass and way better than everyone elses. Mine is wearing a metaphorical crown and if I could work out the logistics it would probably be wearing an actual crown, though that sounds painful and not at all easy to walk in.

I think the general consenses is that sex is awesome, and pretty much everyone knows that, (unless you’re reading this and you’re under 18. Then, sex is horrible and it feels like the stomach flu. Don’t do it. Also, where are your parents?) but some people might have different standards. I mean, there is a huge difference between normal sex and there is, “I saw this in a porn once and we should give it a whirl.” A virgo might be inclined to say, no, nobody should, and here’s why: Those bitches get paid to pretend like they enjoy being jack-hammered by an overly caffeinated rabbit man. Maybe a virgo thinks, “hey, my cookie is awesome and she doesn’t need your approval! Also, that is why God invented Amsterdam, so men can harass someone who gets paid to like it. Which also reminds me of my engagement (which I’ll write about in my book) and a conversation between me and my husband yesterday:

(This is better if you add his accent into it. Just kind of add an “eh” to the end of words. Like, sex-eh is-eh good-eh). Now you try.

F. I read somewhere that sex burns many calories so instead of working out you should have more sex.
Me. Listen, we already do it a lot. If you want to take it up a notch my vagina is going to look like that old ladies head, and go from a cubby space to a two-car garage in no time. Leave it alone.
F. I meant you as in you all. Not YOU. Jesus.
Me. Jesus? He thinks my vagina is awesome also. He designed it. I think. Or maybe Gucci. 
The point of all of this is that Virgo women, according to M.E. just might be particular in the way they conduct their “business”. You can drive a Ferrari my friends, but you can’t take it to derby.

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