Stamped: May 31st, 2007 | Toggle Similar
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I love my vagina. Despite its monthly release of the red demon it has served me well. And although I truly thought it might cease up and fall off during the birth of my son, it stayed the course with only minimal damage.
Those extra few stitches really helped.

I even love other vagina's. I love to touch them and to kiss them…lick them, finger them. I was especially fond of the one with the cherry tattoo.

However, I've never been so enamored with the pink taco that I desired to bust out a box of Crayola's and color it. Frankly, the thought makes me go "ew". I don't know why, either. Like I said, I love vagina's. I suppose I just never found them to be aesthetically pleasing. With the right shave job or waxing the outer bits can certainly look dainty and delectable. But the actual goodie - the pièce de résistance - isn't exactly a stunning piece of artwork. Often times it's damn right scary looking. Obviously, I'm not talking porno pussy which has often been nipped and tucked to perfection, but rather, the average every day mound of labia and bits. It serves a wonderfully arousing, brilliant and impressive purpose, but I don't look at a twat and automatically see art.
I know, I know. How very un-feministic of me.

And while I do appreciate that vagina's come in all shapes, sizes and colors, I don't particularly care to see them up close and personal on my coffee table. If I do, I'd much prefer my face to be buried in them
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Actually, ::blulsh:: I think this whole post might be bunk. I just got slightly turned on by the idea of a pussy pop-up book.

Last 5 posts by JB

• Happy Anniversary - June 21st, 2007
• decision 2007: dildo fantasies vs. honesty - June 14th, 2007
• Intermission - June 7th, 2007
• My friend Karma - May 24th, 2007
• Pirate Poonani - May 17th, 2007