Me And My Vagina by Col. Plug Redux
EDITOR'S NOTE: Col. Plug Redux back with a vengeance - and a damn-near unpublishable ending.
Just yesterday, myself and shatterfaced.com's illustrious editor-in-chief were opining on what our lives would be like had we been born female. Since I am still occasionally able to find sex partners, I have to assume that no females read shatterfaced.com, as they all know each other and speak freely in regard to people's character: a strange and hormonal amalgamation of black people and cable news analysts. Because of the lack of female readership, I feel completely comfortable relating our aforementioned conversation regarding androgyny. (It may be worthy to note that we also came to the realization that we had absolutely no idea how we looked naked when we were in the eight grade. I am currently in the men's bathroom at South Station hoping that school closings across Massachusetts afford me the opportunity to do some research.)
I am actually able to offer insight as to what my life would be like had I been born a chick. Senior year of college, I took a women's health class, just to see whether I would be ostracized to the degree depicted in many popular movies and tv shows, none of which I can name at the moment, in which a male enrolls in women's studies courses as a method of finding sex partners. Here is what I learned:
1. Don't do that.
2. Having a vagina is often similar to having a concussion. How often? Anywhere from 3-7 days of a 28 to 35 day cycle. I am aware of this because of a particularly awkward lecture I was subjected during this course. One random Wednesday afternoon, my professor decided to ditch the lesson plan, and instead walk me through a typical day in her life while she's PMS-ing, which is to say she described in vivid detail the emotional rollercoaster she is passively subjected to as her box gets ready to bleed.
Now obviously she didn't just explain it to me; she explained it to the whole class. However, as the only male in the room, how was I supposed to interpret this monologue? With the continuing education students driving up the mean age of the class, the average student listening (other than me) had experienced PMS somewhere on the order of 100 times. That's like giving a lecture on the value of hard work to 12 Eastern European immigrants and Nicole Richie.
For the sake of brevity (and anonymity- god forbid people actually start reading these things), I won't go into detail as to her exact level of insanity 3 days out from the rag. (However I do now want to make a Youtube video consisting of women acting histrionically set to a Scott Joplin piece- call me when you get that joke).
Sidebar: When I was 19, I got a concussion under circumstances funny enough to deserve their own shatterfaced piece. For about a month after, I actively desired Baskin Robbins ice cream 3 times a week, became embroiled in disputes at work, nearly ruined a friendship, generally thought everyone was a fucking asshole, and even burst into tears--completely unprovoked--while driving.
So after finishing her explanation, I bothered raising my hand (as though she hadn't been staring directly at me for the past 12 minutes and 41 seconds) and said, "Wow that’s really interesting. I hit my head on the pavement one time and gave myself a concussion, and my life was almost exactly like what you just described for about a month after.” It was at that point I realized she was actually PMS-ing that day.
Steve Young discusses Hugh Grant and his favorite sorbet while Chris Chandler gets a load of dem tits.
3. There is one legitimate reason why men should dominate the capitalist system: women should spend all their time masturbating. I've come to this specific conclusion for two reasons. First, because even I'm not going to write that women should spend all their time having sex, as one could misinterpret that as "women are just on earth to service men." Obviously, I also learned from this class that men are totally incapable of satisfying women (the second reason I avoided the aforementioned statement). Thus, my nuanced position is instead that women are on Earth strictly to service themselves. I'm not talking about bubble baths, pedicures, or college admission; this is strictly fingers, dildos, various varieties of fresh fruit up the vagina; and something known as the cascading orgasm.
Now I was always baffled by my inability to keep score in the sack, as many girls are somehow unable to quantify the number of orgasms our trysts produce. I generally assume its zero, since codeine tends to dampen the sexual response cycle. Good thing I learned about these cascading orgasms before canceling my yearly membership to Roofie's Wholesale Club.
This is the best way I can describe the male and female orgasms, based on my own experiences: When a man has an orgasm, semen produced in the testicles, prostate gland, Cowper's gland and seminal vesicles travels up the shaft of the penis via the ejaculatory duct, until being ejaculated out of the urethra, directly into a stranger's eye. The eye becomes irritated, and said stranger yells some shit the male is too drunk to understand, at which point he enters the refractory period. This is the time between ejaculation and the time at which he can acheive his next erection. If his drug-seeking behavior has conferred upon him an unnecessary viagra prescription, this time period is virtually non-existent, although bad cocaine and a liter of Jameson may in fact nullify viagra's effect.
Anyway--and I hope you're sitting down--girls have no refractory period. None. A chick can orgasm right now if she wanted to. And now. And now. Aaaaaannndddd nnnoooowwwww-ow-ow-OW. Not only that, but subsequent orgasms actually build on one another, so not only can she cum twice in succession, she can start cumming again mid-cum! Imagine in the middle of busting a nut, you were actually able to bust an entirely different nut? So many of my sperm would be dying on the shower floor, I'd have to start calling my nuts Auschwitz.
So now it should be obvious why women should just masturbate all the time- it wouldn't even interfere with societal norms. So, after much ado, here is what an average day in Col Plug's life would look like, had he been born female:
9:00 A.M.: Wake up, finger myself a bit, get the cascading orgasms going.
9:15 AM: Make breakfast, likely oatmeal.
9:20 AM: Shove the wooden spoon I was using to stir my oatmeal up my twat.
10:00 AM: Exercise is important to me. Head to the gym.
10:25 AM: Grind my pussy on the hard seat of the exercise bike.
10:55 AM: Take a shower with the shampoo bottle up my vagina.
11:30 AM: Eat lunch.
12:00 PM: Maybe finger my ass, since I won' t be touching food again until dinner.
12:45 PM: Keeping the mind sharp is important. Read about the tenents of democracy on top of a flag pole.
1:30PM: Dismount, and begin to slide slowly down the flag pole.
1:39 PM: Finish sliding down the flag pole.
2:00 PM: Gotta pay the bills. Sit down at my laptop and write a chronology of my day that I will sell to hustler while practicing mental masturbation.
5:00 PM: Stop, wash my hands.
5:03 PM: Cook dinner. Tonight cucumber, zucchini and pumpkin pie (use your imagination) will be touching my lips.
6:00 PM: Chores. Do the dishes, then put a load of laundry in the dryer, just for the sake of being able to hump it, (if it wasn't for this perk I probably would just skip the gym and never have to put clothes on during the day).
7:00 PM: Jeopardy!
7:30 PM: Open a bottle of Jack Daniels, still orgasming from the dryer hump.
9:15 PM: Polish off a bottle of Jack Daniels, which I then firmly insert into my flower.
9:20 PM: Black out.
6:17 AM: Wake up to the opening screen of the Seinfeld Season 4 DVD, wondering whether I'm that desperate for new stimuli.
4. In summary, I learned that we as guys need to give the ladies in our lives a break. Instead of seeing the women in our lives as objects to manipulate and disrespect, we should really start looking at them like car crash victims who are sacrificing valuable masturbation time to get drunk with us. This article has been a personal journey for me, and I hope you've learned as much as I have.
Just yesterday, myself and shatterfaced.com's illustrious editor-in-chief were opining on what our lives would be like had we been born female. Since I am still occasionally able to find sex partners, I have to assume that no females read shatterfaced.com, as they all know each other and speak freely in regard to people's character: a strange and hormonal amalgamation of black people and cable news analysts. Because of the lack of female readership, I feel completely comfortable relating our aforementioned conversation regarding androgyny. (It may be worthy to note that we also came to the realization that we had absolutely no idea how we looked naked when we were in the eight grade. I am currently in the men's bathroom at South Station hoping that school closings across Massachusetts afford me the opportunity to do some research.)
I am actually able to offer insight as to what my life would be like had I been born a chick. Senior year of college, I took a women's health class, just to see whether I would be ostracized to the degree depicted in many popular movies and tv shows, none of which I can name at the moment, in which a male enrolls in women's studies courses as a method of finding sex partners. Here is what I learned:
1. Don't do that.
2. Having a vagina is often similar to having a concussion. How often? Anywhere from 3-7 days of a 28 to 35 day cycle. I am aware of this because of a particularly awkward lecture I was subjected during this course. One random Wednesday afternoon, my professor decided to ditch the lesson plan, and instead walk me through a typical day in her life while she's PMS-ing, which is to say she described in vivid detail the emotional rollercoaster she is passively subjected to as her box gets ready to bleed.
Now obviously she didn't just explain it to me; she explained it to the whole class. However, as the only male in the room, how was I supposed to interpret this monologue? With the continuing education students driving up the mean age of the class, the average student listening (other than me) had experienced PMS somewhere on the order of 100 times. That's like giving a lecture on the value of hard work to 12 Eastern European immigrants and Nicole Richie.
For the sake of brevity (and anonymity- god forbid people actually start reading these things), I won't go into detail as to her exact level of insanity 3 days out from the rag. (However I do now want to make a Youtube video consisting of women acting histrionically set to a Scott Joplin piece- call me when you get that joke).
Sidebar: When I was 19, I got a concussion under circumstances funny enough to deserve their own shatterfaced piece. For about a month after, I actively desired Baskin Robbins ice cream 3 times a week, became embroiled in disputes at work, nearly ruined a friendship, generally thought everyone was a fucking asshole, and even burst into tears--completely unprovoked--while driving.
So after finishing her explanation, I bothered raising my hand (as though she hadn't been staring directly at me for the past 12 minutes and 41 seconds) and said, "Wow that’s really interesting. I hit my head on the pavement one time and gave myself a concussion, and my life was almost exactly like what you just described for about a month after.” It was at that point I realized she was actually PMS-ing that day.
3. There is one legitimate reason why men should dominate the capitalist system: women should spend all their time masturbating. I've come to this specific conclusion for two reasons. First, because even I'm not going to write that women should spend all their time having sex, as one could misinterpret that as "women are just on earth to service men." Obviously, I also learned from this class that men are totally incapable of satisfying women (the second reason I avoided the aforementioned statement). Thus, my nuanced position is instead that women are on Earth strictly to service themselves. I'm not talking about bubble baths, pedicures, or college admission; this is strictly fingers, dildos, various varieties of fresh fruit up the vagina; and something known as the cascading orgasm.
Now I was always baffled by my inability to keep score in the sack, as many girls are somehow unable to quantify the number of orgasms our trysts produce. I generally assume its zero, since codeine tends to dampen the sexual response cycle. Good thing I learned about these cascading orgasms before canceling my yearly membership to Roofie's Wholesale Club.
This is the best way I can describe the male and female orgasms, based on my own experiences: When a man has an orgasm, semen produced in the testicles, prostate gland, Cowper's gland and seminal vesicles travels up the shaft of the penis via the ejaculatory duct, until being ejaculated out of the urethra, directly into a stranger's eye. The eye becomes irritated, and said stranger yells some shit the male is too drunk to understand, at which point he enters the refractory period. This is the time between ejaculation and the time at which he can acheive his next erection. If his drug-seeking behavior has conferred upon him an unnecessary viagra prescription, this time period is virtually non-existent, although bad cocaine and a liter of Jameson may in fact nullify viagra's effect.
Anyway--and I hope you're sitting down--girls have no refractory period. None. A chick can orgasm right now if she wanted to. And now. And now. Aaaaaannndddd nnnoooowwwww-ow-ow-OW. Not only that, but subsequent orgasms actually build on one another, so not only can she cum twice in succession, she can start cumming again mid-cum! Imagine in the middle of busting a nut, you were actually able to bust an entirely different nut? So many of my sperm would be dying on the shower floor, I'd have to start calling my nuts Auschwitz.
So now it should be obvious why women should just masturbate all the time- it wouldn't even interfere with societal norms. So, after much ado, here is what an average day in Col Plug's life would look like, had he been born female:
9:00 A.M.: Wake up, finger myself a bit, get the cascading orgasms going.
9:15 AM: Make breakfast, likely oatmeal.
9:20 AM: Shove the wooden spoon I was using to stir my oatmeal up my twat.
10:00 AM: Exercise is important to me. Head to the gym.
10:25 AM: Grind my pussy on the hard seat of the exercise bike.
10:55 AM: Take a shower with the shampoo bottle up my vagina.
11:30 AM: Eat lunch.
12:00 PM: Maybe finger my ass, since I won' t be touching food again until dinner.
12:45 PM: Keeping the mind sharp is important. Read about the tenents of democracy on top of a flag pole.
1:30PM: Dismount, and begin to slide slowly down the flag pole.
1:39 PM: Finish sliding down the flag pole.
2:00 PM: Gotta pay the bills. Sit down at my laptop and write a chronology of my day that I will sell to hustler while practicing mental masturbation.
5:00 PM: Stop, wash my hands.
5:03 PM: Cook dinner. Tonight cucumber, zucchini and pumpkin pie (use your imagination) will be touching my lips.
6:00 PM: Chores. Do the dishes, then put a load of laundry in the dryer, just for the sake of being able to hump it, (if it wasn't for this perk I probably would just skip the gym and never have to put clothes on during the day).
7:00 PM: Jeopardy!
7:30 PM: Open a bottle of Jack Daniels, still orgasming from the dryer hump.
9:15 PM: Polish off a bottle of Jack Daniels, which I then firmly insert into my flower.
9:20 PM: Black out.
6:17 AM: Wake up to the opening screen of the Seinfeld Season 4 DVD, wondering whether I'm that desperate for new stimuli.
4. In summary, I learned that we as guys need to give the ladies in our lives a break. Instead of seeing the women in our lives as objects to manipulate and disrespect, we should really start looking at them like car crash victims who are sacrificing valuable masturbation time to get drunk with us. This article has been a personal journey for me, and I hope you've learned as much as I have.
It was all i could do to not burst out laughing in class when i hit the auschwitz part. perfect.
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