Archive for the 'NSFW' Category

People have been visiting this site, looking for some answers to very serious questions. Rather than send them away empty-handed, I thought I’d try and help them out.

“Where can I find the world’s widest vagina?”

While I don’t know first hand, I suspect you’d have to talk to that Duggar couple about this one.

“Is FaceBook the Devil?”

Yes. FaceBook is the Devil. Or of the devil, at least.

“I have a vagina.”

Well, um, that’s not really a question. But congratulations, I guess?

“Pink Guns Bad?”

Yes, pink guns ARE bad.

“Pink Guns in Vagina?”

No. No pink guns in vaginas here. Although I have a vagina, I prefer to stick to (stick in?) more traditional objects when putting things into my vagina. Like penises (peni?).

“Like Stephen King?”

I am/was a huge fan of some of Stephen King! He was one of the first authors I used to sneak under my covers in the dead of night.

“Stephen King vagina?”

Now, hold up. Stephen King does not, to the best of my knowledge have a vagina. Nor has he ever been near MY vagina. Why are you all coming here, looking for vagina, mine or otherwise? Really? If you want vagina stories, go read Tanis’s Blue Bush story. Or check out Toy with Me.

Plenty of vagina talk there. Here? Pfft. I grew up in a religious home. I haven’t worked my way past the repression to talk about vaginae. (<-plural of vagina. School is making me S-M-R-T) No, really. What are you guys smirking about?

Oh forget it. I’m going to go learn about keywords now, and see if I can fix this whole “You can find my site just by adding “vagina” to your search string!” situation.

Vagina!

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Today’s (and yesterday’s) guest post come from WhyMomDrinksRum who blogs over at http://www.whymomdrinksrum.net. Just don’t call her a mommy blogger, she gets all stabby. She shares with us about being speculum-ed, and why she forced herself to go through it.

Oh yeah…I lived

It was as horrific as I imagined it to be. I was ‘speculum-ed’…ugh. And wouldn’t you know it? I totally had to fart the second he put that thing in there. I didn’t….but only because I have the muscle control of Chuck Norris in my sphincter. Total ass-ninja.

Aaaand, he also shoved his entire arm and half his body up there…then jumped around on my stomach with his feet ‘feeling my uterus and ovaries’. Dude, they are still there. In fact, if you wait a week the hormone surge that causes me to rip off hubby’s face and fry it up with some garlic and onions will prove it to you. No really. Take my word for it.

Also, the blood pressure thing…it’s still high. So, I earned myself an echo cardiogram and blood screening. Oh.What.Fun.

I got a call from hubby yesterday afternoon at work saying that his Mom (the one who lives in our basement forever) was having bad stomach pain and he was going home to take her to the hospital. Meaning I had to go pick up the kids from school….a task which time and time again proves to me how much I DON’T miss staying at home and playing chauffeur to children who think they are entitled to an after school treat from the store. Hello???? I’m not grandma. So…good luck with that.

The thing is, before she was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma her symptoms were exactly the same. They ended up removing half her small bowel in the end….and they can’t take anymore. Of course, the resulting ‘freak-out’ was understandable. She still managed to go to her hairdressers before calling for the hospital ride.

Her hairdresser who just got back from Mexico. Great idea. Compromised immune system? Check.

Hubby texted me from the waiting room…or HELL as he referred to it.

Hubby: SHE IS TALKING LOUDLY. ABOUT HOW THE PEOPLE IN THE WAITING ROOM AREN’T REALLY SICK. OMG.

Me: GO UP TO THE DESK & TELL THEM SHE IS FROM MEXICO.

Hubby: HAHAHA.

Me: NO SERIOUSLY.

Hubby: OMG. SHE JUST LOOKED AT THE GUY ACROSS FROM US AND SAID ‘HE CAN’T HANDLE PAIN CAN HE? ITS HIS ETHNICITY’ OMG.

Me: YOU POOR POOR MAN.

He came home shortly after that to eat. I think there was some guilt that he left her there…some. Not alot. She got in really quickly after that and by that time it had almost completely resolved itself. Probably a bowel obstruction. She’ll have to follow up with her oncologist.

Lessons learned? Inbreeding will eventually bite you in the ass. Maybe not in your generation….but eventually.

Part 3 link

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Today’s (and tomorrow’s) guest post come from WhyMomDrinksRum who blogs over at http://www.whymomdrinksrum.net. Just don’t call her a mommy blogger, she gets all stabby. She shares with us about being speculum-ed, and why she forced herself to go through it.

Well, Shit…

There are certain experiences you share with people in life, that not matter what amount of time passes will always bond you.

Like? Watching porn for the first time.

Growing up in a little village on an island, there wasn’t much to do. In fact, some of my best friends were trees. Not even kidding. So, when I was 8,9,10ish (’cause I can’t remember) and a girl OMG-MY-AGE moved in down the street I attached myself to her and insisted we were the bestest friends ever. Luckily she agreed, seeing as her choices were me, or trees. And her standards were just a little higher than mine. She insisted on real people for friends.

Her mother was living (in sin!!! gasp) with a guy…which to my little narrow world was scandalous! And awesome. We played at her house alot since her parentals were always working and my ‘evilbitchfromhellmother’ was always at home. And it left us time to get into trouble. Trouble such as finding her parent’s naughty drawer. That contained a naughty BETA tape. It took us at least a week to work up the courage to do more than just open the drawer.

So, needless to say we bonded.

At 12 I moved to England, came back to Canada, and never saw her again. Then Facebook came along about a million years later and here we are. 5 kids between us and shockingly not working in the porn industry.

I sent her a message yesterday because I had a funny sinking feeling in the pit of my tummy when I saw the cancer awareness sticker thing on her profile. She replied.

Stage II Cervical cancer.

She just had her third baby. Jade Goody just died from this shit. And do you know what the symptoms are of this? Numbness in the leg. A swollen foot. I fucking hate cancer. She starts her treatments next week. I wish we were back on that street, running around like idiots and watching bad 80′s porn.

I haven’t had a physical in 10 years. I emailed the clinic yesterday. Seeing as I’m a day older than this friend I can’t really kid myself into believing I’m not at risk for this shit.

But it sucks.
Part 1 link
******
Cue the doomsday music….

Tomorrow is D-Day. Actually….more like E-Day….examination.

Invasive examination.

Pity me.

Dear Lord, please don’t make me fart in the doctor’s face. PUHLEEEZE.

Part 2 link

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Disclaimer: If you are related to me, you may want to skip this one. It mentions certain body parts that certain relatives may not be interested in thinking about. You have been warned!

Everyone remembers their first time. The music playing softly, the lighting, nervously removing your clothes, the cold, hard, steel of the speculum.
I’m sorry, you thought I was going all soft-core porno on you, didn’t you? Pervs.

Look, I’ve had two kids. In a military hospital, which pretty much guarenteed that I saw a different provider at every visit. My girly parts have been speculum-ed so often, it’s not even a teensy bit nerve wracking anymore. It seems like every doctor’s visit involves stirrups. I swear I went for a strep test, because of a sore throat, and wound up on the Bed of Torture, waiting for the Speculum of Doom. Not real sure how that one happened…

But there was no time more memorable than my first time. I was 17, and randy as hell. (sorry mom)Which meant I needed some birth control. So Mrs. Berth took me down to the women’s health clinic. You know, the low-income one with the dingy carpet, and waiting room furniture that looks like it was attacked by feral cats.

I’m led back to a room, and I get myself situated. I’m incredibily nervous, because I’ve heard stories of this speculum-thingy. But I know that in order to get ahold of the Holy Grail of Birth Control (thus avoiding that whole teen motherhood thing) I need to make it through this part.

The provider walked in. A solid woman, she reminded me of George Costanza’s mom, on Seinfield. (Estelle Harris)
I fidgeted while she prepared her supplies.
She turned around, holding the largest bottle of lube I had ever seen (I still haven’t seen a bigger one, fyi. She was totally shopping at Costco) and this scary looking metal device, that I have since come to know well.
I must have looked uneasy. She put her hand on her hip, and said, “Come on now, your boyfriend must be bigger than this, right?”

My mind stuttered at that, not willing to discuss something like that with anyone. Never mind the strange lady in the dingy exam room. My tounge however, did not stumble. My mouth opened, and out came, “Well, yeah, but he buys me dinner and a movie first!”

I hope you enjoyed this trip down memory lane with my vagina and I. Stay tuned for a post on why I continue to submit to this, and why you should, too.

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Also titled, “The Post My Husband Fully Endorses” heh

The most important reason to fondle yourself on a regular basis, is so you know what is normal for your breasts. There is no universal “everyone’s boobies feel/look like THIS” (And thank god, because how boring would it be if we were like Barbie and all came out of the mold with the same set of knockers?). If you know what is normal, you will be better able to tell what is NOT normal. And while not every lump or bump is cancer, it is a good idea to get a doctor to check out any strangeness that you find in the tatas. Early detection can give you more treatment options, and a better chance at recovery.

So now that we know why you should fondle yourself on a regular basis, let’s talk a little about how to feel yourself up….

One thing to note, it’s harder to see or feel differences if your girls are all swollen or tender. So try not to do it right before, or during, your period.
Some people examine themselves whenever they think about it, others have a certain day of the month…I once knew someone who would write BOOBS on her calendar. But I’m not brave enough for that. Although I’m sure it would amuse TheMan….

So you’ve learned the lay of the land, you’ve picked your day, and you’re standing there topless and prepared to grope. And you think to yourself, “Now what?? Is there a special trick to this?”

Eh, sort of.
The American Cancer Society gives a good step-by-step to checking things out. They recommend turning your exam into a two-parter. The first part is done lying down (on your bed, the couch, your shag carpet…whatever works for you) and the other part involves mirrors (and it’s not as kinky as it sounds(although. I guess it could be.))
To quote their page,

How to examine your breasts

* Lie down and place your right arm behind your head. The exam is done while lying down, not standing up. This is because when lying down the breast tissue spreads evenly over the chest wall and is as thin as possible, making it much easier to feel all the breast tissue.

* Use the finger pads of the 3 middle fingers on your left hand to feel for lumps in the right breast. Use overlapping dime-sized circular motions of the finger pads to feel the breast tissue.

* Use 3 different levels of pressure to feel all the breast tissue. Light pressure is needed to feel the tissue closest to the skin; medium pressure to feel a little deeper; and firm pressure to feel the tissue closest to the chest and ribs. A firm ridge in the lower curve of each breast is normal. If you’re not sure how hard to press, talk with your doctor or nurse. Use each pressure level to feel the breast tissue before moving on to the next spot.

* Move around the breast in an up and down pattern starting at an imaginary line drawn straight down your side from the underarm and moving across the breast to the middle of the chest bone (sternum or breastbone). Be sure to check the entire breast area going down until you feel only ribs and up to the neck or collar bone (clavicle).

* There is some evidence to suggest that the up-and-down pattern (sometimes called the vertical pattern) is the most effective pattern for covering the entire breast, without missing any breast tissue.

* Repeat the exam on your left breast, using the finger pads of the right hand.

* While standing in front of a mirror with your hands pressing firmly down on your hips, look at your breasts for any changes of size, shape, contour, or dimpling, or redness or scaliness of the nipple or breast skin. (The pressing down on the hips position contracts the chest wall muscles and enhances any breast changes.)

* Examine each underarm while sitting up or standing and with your arm only slightly raised so you can easily feel in this area. Raising your arm straight up tightens the tissue in this area and makes it harder to examine.

If you go to their site, they have little drawings to help explain. Very useful tool.

So, now that you are armed with the How and Why, please, go forth and play with your boobs!

~husbands and boyfriends may thank me later~

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I don’t believe that marijuana is a gateway drug, I don’t believe that it is a horrible evil substance…any more than alcohol, and I would give my left tit to see it legalized, taxed and regulated like tobacco and alcohol are.

Think of the economical boost! Not only would you have a ton of money rolling in from the taxes from the purchase of over-the-counter weed (I mean, no hang-over the next morning? No calories? Who WOULDN’T being toking up?), but think of the snack food industry!

Sales on chips and snack cakes would go through the roof! Twinkies would be popular again! And pop-rocks!
Cupboards everywhere would be stocked full.

Plus, think of all the money Americans could save on anxiety medication and over-the-counter heartburn medications. No more stress.

Please, write your congressman about this pressing issue of marijuana legalization.
Help save our economy, smoke a joint.

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Since the beginning of our marriage, my husband has tried to convince me of the healing powers contained within his penis.

“My stomach hurts.”
“I have something that will fix that.”
“What’s that?”
“My penis.”

Supposedly, his penis is able to cure menstrual cramps, stomach flu, pregnancy pains, headaches and broken bones. Apparently, his man juice is of a powerful variety indeed. One has to wonder why modern medicine doesn’t have him locked in a lab somewhere, subject to a battery of tests?

There are many days I wonder why he’s not locked up somewhere filled with doctors…but I digress.

For the last week or so, I have had a nasty cold. The kind where you want to curl up and die. Puffy eyes, runny nose (yet congested sinuses…someone explain that one?) pounding head, hacking cough…the works.

I tried everything. Various cough syrups, cold medicines, alka seltzers, teas, etc. Finally, I broke down and took the good stuff. The stash. The cough syrup with the codeine in it. Oh yeah.

I figured that if it didn’t cure the cough, it might at least knock me out.
It didn’t cure the cough.
So I lay there whining and moaning about my impending death. And my husband offered up his usual home-remedy.

And apparently I was feeling a little loopy. Possibly the drugs. Because I took him up on it. Despite the puffy eyes, runny/congested nose, headache and hacking cough. (Note to self: Check and see if The Man was on something as well. B/c that? Not. Attractive.)

And…..it worked!

That’s right, I woke up illness-free. Rescued from the brink of death.

By a penis.

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