Pissing In Cheerios

Menstruation.

Gross right?

I remember back when I was hanging with this chick Antoinette. She was like 11 or 12 and I was 7. She had her period (early bloomer) and was telling me it was so wonderful. She lied straight through her slutty teeth. Man, I hate that girl. But I couldn’t wait to get my period. Then I got it. I really, really hate that girl.

So, I bet you don’t want to hear about my menses. [Too bad]

All that ooey, gooey poon plasma. Yum! Who wants cherry cheesecake?

Okay, okay, so… I rarely get Ms. Flo. But when I do, woo, look out. She comes out of hiding faster than a pedophile dressed as Barney at a kid’s birthday party.

Well, the great thing, or not so great, about having a dog, is that he always knows your on your rag. Okay, that pretty much blows. But, as long as he stays away from the crotchal area, he will live without being decapitated anytime soon.

However, [and let’s pretend this is hypothetical and not something that actually happened to me] there is a problem if Fido gets a hold of the bloody rag. Even worse, [again, hypothetical] it would totally suck if said bloody maxi got stuck to your shoe as you were taking your kids to school in the morning.

To top it off, it might be really really really awful if, say, the principal chose that very fucking day to stop you and tell you what wonderful kids you had. And I can’t even begin to tell you how ridiculously bad it would be if you didn’t realize that the menstruated maxi was there, and just kept talking and talking as little kids walked by ewwwwwww-ing at you.

Let’s not forget the potential embarrassment that might cross your face when the principal decided to point out your little problem. And shouted at you not to put it in the school trash can.

Man, I bet that would suck!

What?

This entry was posted on Monday, September 10th, 2007 at 4:14 am and is filed under Ranting. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.