I’m sure you’ve seen quite enough of this on your Facebook feeds this week, so I hate to add to the bullshit. But the combination of characters I thought of made me laugh.
“Describe yourself in three fictional characters…”
One of the dumbest things I’ve ever Googled is “abnormal vaginal bleeding.”
I know it happens. Just generally not to me, and not off and on for 6 days.
So I looked it up and WebMD says I’m basically dying. OR, helpfully, there could be “an object” in my vagina.
AN OBJECT. IN MY VAGINA.
I love how vague that is, as if there could be, like… dice in there. Butterscotch candies. Maybe a $20 bill I forgot about.
Get out of my vagina, Object. It is not for storage!
OMG, you guys…The Cuntainer Store.
Yep, that’s it. I’m never writing again. That was my Bill Hader score on LeBron James, right there.
P.S. There is absolutely no object in my vagina. My sex toys are all present and accounted for, and no other objects have been visiting the region.
Sometimes I forget how much porn (erm…”erotica”) I follow on Tumblr until I open the app at work and “OMG, that’s a vagina. Gahhh, shut it down, shut it down!”
See also: wang. Giant, scary, first scene of “Trainwreck” wang.
“Your dick doesn’t end! Why doesn’t your dick end?!”
This morning I saw Trainwreck, which I loved and everyone should see it because Amy Schumer wrote it and it’s delightful.
Then I took my godson to meet Daniel Tiger.
And now I’m slightly buzzed and going to see Magic Mike XXL. And then probably home to, um…address my tension.
Mine is an odd life sometimes.
Smug Singleton 