My Vagina Doesn’t Need To Breathe — I Corked That Bitch!

February 7, 2019 by
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At the risk of sounding anatomically confusing, my vagina is an asshole. I hate it so much. My stupid vagina demands a doctor’s appointment once a year just to keep it from dumping tumors or babies on me. None of my other holes do that! (Especially not the mouth hole, as far as I know there is no doctor for the mouth hole.) I keep seeing articles about how important it is to allow your vagina to breathe and I’ve had enough! Until it starts cooperating, I’m not letting my vagina breathe. I corked that bitch.

It Hurts And Bleeds All The Time

The reproductive system that usually comes with having a vagina is a nightmare. Did you know that one in 10 women suffers from endometriosis? Or that one in 10 women suffers from PCOS? Or that every woman our editor Shawn has ever dated has PMS? It’s true! He said so! Vaginas are painful as fuck! Uterine fibroids, vaginal and uterine cancers, and my HPV are also extremely common. And don’t get me started on BABIES. Babies are the most painful vagina disorder. If I give my vagina an ounce of freedom to breathe it’ll take everything from me! I’m corking that thing right now!

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People Are Scared Of Vaginas

Nobody wants to learn about my vagina. Nobody wants to learn where the clitoris is, or about basic women’s healthcare, or about that secret third hole that only I have. People are so scared of vaginas they use blue liquid to represent periods on TV. Why should I air out this thing society is convinced is a cavern of doom? Maybe allowing my vagina so much breathing room is what’s holding me back in life. Maybe I can finally get a job in a male-dominated field if I walk into the interview saying “It’s ok sir, I have corked my scary vagina.”

It Houses Trashbois

Did you know my vagina has had enough drummers inside it to legally be classified as an NA meeting? It’s true (probably!). Whereas my mouth sticks to a strict healthy diet, my vagina continues to allow trash inside my body. Not my fault. These clearly aren’t brain choices. They’re vagina choices. I’ve had men mansplain my vagina to me while face to face with the actual vagina (no they did not go down on me.) I have had intercourse with at least five men who own more than one sword. One time I hooked up with a dude who had three scorpions. I couldn’t tell if the scorpions were staring at us during sex or not because I did not know where their eyes were, but if I had made eye contact with a pet scorpion during sex that would be enough to cork my vagina forever. Also I have never had sex with someone who had a headboard, let alone a job description that didn’t include “aspiring” or “former.” Fuck you, vagina! This is all your fault! You ruined my life!

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If It Breathes, It Queefs

I don’t know if this is accurate or not but I have already ordered 50 “If it breathes, it queefs” t-shirts so I’m sticking to this catchphrase. And my corks.

Images: Pexels, Pixabay, Pixabay,


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