Day 21: Throwback Thursday: Nice Fresh Trout

It's been a long day, my friends. I worked and drove a lot and mopped a big room with a big mop. So tonight I chose one of my favorite posts from the past to share with you. It's a snippet from a conversation at karaoke night. A couple of you will remember it. I hope I don't bore you by posting it again or give you existential angst when you realize it's over six years old. And yet my vagina still smells like .... Oh, just read the post.

A karaoke snippet: Something smells a little fishy....

From February 22, 2013

Fishmonger*:  You know that's what the gay men say, don't you? Vaginas smell like fish.

Me: Vaginas do not smell like fish. My vagina does not smell like a fish.

Fishmonger: I'm just repeating what they say. And it's not all vaginas. It's just some vaginas.

Me: I'm telling you the gay men lie. What would they know about vaginas anyway? They don't get close enough to a vagina to smell one.

Fishmonger: But I'm not saying all vaginas, and maybe not under all circumstances.

Me: OK, maybe if she ate tuna or salmon and the fish smell came out in her .... you know.

Fishmonger: Well, as someone who has a lot of experience on both sides, I can vouch that some vaginas smell like fish.

Me: Mine doesn't. And I don't think vaginas smell like fish in general.

Maria*: (Who has just finished a production of The Vagina Monologues, quotes in a singsong voice.) "My vagina smells like .... rain!"

Me: That's it. Me too. My vagina smells like rain.

Maria: Not really though....

Me: Yes, it does. It smells like rain. It really does. (To Fishmonger) It does not smell like fish. My vagina smells like rain.

Fishmonger: It's not necessarily a bad thing. It can be a good thing. Sometimes vaginas smell like nice, fresh trout.

Me: Nice, fresh trout!!! You call that a compliment? OK, I'm calling in an expert. (I turn to Martini, who has for some reason not been listening to this vagina conversation.)  Martini, give us your honest opinion. Do vaginas smell like nice, fresh trout?

Martini: (long, thoughtful pause) I have not actually encountered that much trout.

Wait a damn minute! Are you saying I smell like a vagina? I smell like fish. Everybody knows vaginas smell like rain.     (Credit: US Department of Agriculture)

Day 11: The Vagina Post

Tonight is the night! Yoni Monday is here, so sit right down and let's talk about some things you can do with a vagina. It's hard to believe I've gone 10 days without a single vagina post, isn't it? There's a reason for that. Since I started writing this blog vaginas have become ubiquitous. Not because so  many women have vaginas in their pants, but because so many people are talking about them as if they never were a dirty little secret. It's just not as much fun to talk about vaginas if everybody else is doing it too.

But nevertheless, I have a hearty number of vagina items in my saved files on Facebook. Most of them were sent to me by readers who know I find vaginas fascinating. Or rather, I find the things people do with and about vaginas fascinating. And according to unofficial polls of the blog, so do you.

Here's something I'll bet you didn't know. You can get a special speaker called a Babypod for your vagina so your hoo ha can listen to music or podcasts or ... I don't know. Whale sounds.

OK, fine. That would be ridiculous. Vaginas don't have ears. In my opinion the reasoning behind the Babypod is just as ridiculous though. The premise is that babies can learn to vocalize while in utero if the sound waves come to them through the vagina. I mean, if you want your kid to get into the best schools, you need to start early. Your baby could be born speaking three languages if you start as soon as the fetus has ears.

It also has dual earphones, so Mom and Dad can walk down the street wearing earbuds that dangle out of Mom's vagina. Real family togetherness. I know when I was pregnant I dreamed about putting a speaker up in my vagina and running some wires out of there so I could share sounds coming out of my vagina with LtColEx. Here's a video so you don't have to rely on your imagination.



I don't know about you, but once my kids started talking I could never get them to shut up. I sure as hell didn't want them talking in the womb. Talking underwater isn't really a skill a person needs anyway so why spend $150 for a vag speaker that .... c'mon! Babies aren't going to learn to vocalize just because Mom puts a speaker in her vagina and streams Pandora.

No surprise that idea was brought to us by Gwyneth Paltrow. Here's another.

Vaginal steaming. You do it like this. Put some herbs into hot, steaming water, put on a long, full skirt, sit down over whatever vessel you're using, tent the skirt around the steaming vessel, let that hot steam hit your sensitive lady bits until it cools or until you have blisters on your labia. It's supposed to cure cramps, make your uterus healthier, release toxins, and balance your hormones. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the misogynistic idea that women's bodies, especially "down there," are inherently dirty.

But, hey. What do I know? Why knock it if I haven't tried it -- other than this article about a woman who got second-degree burns from doing it. I'm clenching my thighs just thinking about it.

Nevertheless I thought if I planned to write about it, maybe I should check it out. So I looked up vaginal steaming on Amazon and sure enough. You can get this pink plastic bowl that goes into your toilet for just less than $50. It looks very similar to what we used to call a sitz bath. Hospitals gave them to new moms so they could soak their stitches.

I wasn't going to spend 50 bucks to steam my yoni, so I looked up DIY methods. Turns out you can just set a steaming bowl of herbal water down in your toilet, sit on the toilet, and steam away. I thought about doing it for research purposes, but when I went in the bathroom the cat was drinking out of the toilet and the idea lost its appeal. Again.

I guess I'll be going around with a wrinkled, unfresh vagina so if you see me, please be respectful and don't mention it. Certainly don't ask to see it.

If you've tried vaginal steaming though, please, for the love of Gwyneth Paltrow, tell me about it in the comments.

Our final vagina offering for this post is an ad for a Swedish feminine product company called Libresse. If you like singing vaginas as much as I do, watch this. I promise you'll laugh. I'd let my vagina listen, but I don't have a speaker for that. Sorry, vagina.

Day 20: Wordless Wednesday: A view from the stool at karaoke

Note 1: Tonight  went to karaoke for the first time since I was roofied there. I will admit to some trepidation. I only drank water, and I asked the server for a pitcher. It might take a minute before I feel safe there again.

Note 2: I didn't publish a post last night, because it was my birthday, and I was sitting on my porch until 5:00 am drinking bourbon. I hope you saw my full moon. It was gorgeous.

Note 3: These aren't really words.

Coralineisms #008: Tooth fairies to stinky bananas

Sometimes I'll post conversations I have with my 3-year-old granddaughter Coraline that I call Coralineisms on Facebook. Some are sweet one-liners, like this one:

"Did you dream about me last night, Mamá?"

And this one:

"When I grow up, I'm going to be a tooth fairy!"

Most are conversations, like this one:

Me, singing beautifully: Let it go. Let it go. Can't hold it ...
Coraline: Stop! Stop singing my song. That song is MY song.
Me: I can sing that song if I want to.
Coraline: No, you can't. That's my song. You sing your own song.
Me: What's my song?
Coraline: "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star." That's your song. You sing that.
Me: Why do I have to have "Twinkle, Twinkle..." for my song? I don't want that song.
Coraline: That's a beautiful song. It's fine for you.
Me: No, I don't choose that song. (singing) Let it go ....
Coraline: Fine. We can share my song. I'll split it with you.
Me: That's so generous.
Coraline. I know. I know. I'll just cut it in half.
Me: Thank you.
Coraline: You can only sing your part in the winter.
Me: I hate winter.
Coraline: It's a winter song.

Or this one, which is a continuation of a conversation about the Frozen theme song you might remember from this post:

Coraline (singing): Ready go ... Ready go ....
Me (singing): Let it go .... Let it go ....
Coraline: It's "Ready go."
Me: No, I keep telling you, it's "Let it go."
Coraline: That's what I sing at Grandma's house and at Mommy's house. But here I sing "Ready go."
Me: What??? You sing "Let it go" at Grandma's house and Mommy's house, and you only sing "Ready go" here at my house?
Coraline: Yes. (singing) Ready go .... Ready go ...."

Me: You're a stinker.

Coraline: Ready go ....

And this one:

Coraline: I need a tissue! (Always a crisis.)
Me: OK. Here you go.
Coraline, after a big honking blow: That's the way my nose pees.

And another:

I'm using a tablespoon to clean out a jar I've just shaken up whipped cream in. As I'm licking the stem of the spoon ...

Coraline: Euww. Why are you licking that spoon's bottom?
Me: Spoons don't have bottoms.
Coraline: That one does, and you're licking its bottom. That's icky.

Bear with me:

Coraline: Be careful of your heart.
Me: Why? What's going on with my heart?
Coraline: Next week it's going to fall out. And you're going to have babies in your tummy.
Me: Can't wait.

Finally, for those of you who are Facebook friends and may have seen most of my Coralineisms, a new bathtub conversation from last Thursday:

Coraline: Mamá, I have a vagina.

Me: Yes, you do.

Coraline: And you have a vagina too.

Me: I do. It hasn't been excavated in a while, but I'm sure it's still there somewhere.

Coraline: And Mommy has a vagina too.

Me: Yes, Mommy has a vagina.

Coraline: Daddy doesn't have a vagina though.

Me: No, what does Daddy have?

Coraline: Daddy has a stinky banana!

Me (LOL):  A stinky banana? You mean a penis, right?

Coraline: Yes, a penis that's a stinky banana.

Me: OK. Close enough.

Coraline: What's a penis for?

Me: They have a couple of purposes. The only one you need to know about right now is that men pee out of them.

Coraline: Men pee out of bananas?

Me: Out of penises.

Coraline: Oh ..... Aunt Montana has a vagina.

Me: Yes.

Coraline: Uncle Drake has a stinky banana.

Me: I'm not going to win this one, am I?

Coraline: No. Carly has a vagina.

Me: Yes, she does.

Coraline:  Shaun has a stinky banana.

Me: [sigh] Yes, Shaun has a penis ...... (The list goes on.)

Wordless Wednesday: Rusophycus carleyi

The ubiquitous vagina

I have shit-tons to write about .... I really do ...  but I stayed at the wrap party for Medicine too late tonight, and I need to be kind to myself and take me to bed. (Don't bother looking at the time stamp. I back-date these every single night. It's not cheating. Just night owl behavior.)

I have one little story to tell you though.

Tonight I said to one of the other party guests, an acquaintance, "Hey, thanks for your comments this past week on the vagina photos. You really ... ummm ...." He was looking at me like I'd just said vagina and he didn't know me or my vagina. "Ummm .... the vagina photos? ...  on my blog? You said something on my Facebook page about pubes and .... ?

"Oh!" he said. "You're Reticulated Writer? That's you?"

"Well, yeah," I said. "You didn't know that?"

"I had no idea," he said. "Great blog!"

"Thanks," I said. "I just assumed you knew you were talking to me when .... you know, we were talking about vaginas and shaving and stuff."

"Nope. I had no idea that was you," he said. "Now I know."

"Yep, now you know," I said.

Huh. For about a second I felt a nanobit of famousness. Then I slapped myself back into reality.

I wonder who else I've talked to who's a reader and has no idea this is me here talking about vaginas.

For the rest of the night, during the viewing of the film and a sassy game of Words Against Humanity, the ubiquitous vagina came up over and over again. I think I've started something.

Trending here on Reticulated Writer: the vagina. #vagina #reticulatedwriter

You heard it here first. (Sorry. No photos tonight.)

Cunningly poisonous

Poison lips postcard from zazzle.com

Let's start the month with a vagina story, shall we?

So this Brazilian guy started to perform cunnilingus on his wife, but he noticed her vagina had an unusual odor emanating from it. Because he didn't want to put his nose any closer to that nasty smell Concerned for her well being, he grabbed some Febreeze and dowsed her crotch  took her to the hospital. Once there, she admitted the odor came from some unnamed poison she had put in her vagina in order to kill him. In fact, she put in enough of the poison to kill both of them, but I assume that wasn't her intention.

Then again, maybe I shouldn't assume the intentions of someone who is obviously that fucking stupid.

First, why, if she had put poison in her vagina, did she let her husband take her to the hospital where she would certainly be busted? Couldn't she have come up with some excuse for the smell? Some diversion, perhaps? I can think of several. Certainly if I'd been planning a murder, I would have had a cunt-ingency plan just on the small chance my poisoned vag was discovered. In fact, I would have had several ways out.

1. Medical excuse: "Oh, sorry, honey. I forgot all about that itchy yeast infection. How about I give you a blow job instead and then I'll take myself to the emergency room after you fall asleep. Now give me that yummy cock, you naughty boy."

2. Chagrine: "Oh, dear. I'm so embarrassed. I ate a tuna fish and asparagus sandwich for lunch. How about instead I give you a blow job .... "

3. Deflection: "Smell? Smell? What smell are you talking about? Are you having an affair?"

4. Narcissism: "What do you mean my pussy smells funny? You mean it smells bad? Are you saying my pussy smells bad? You just want a blow job, don't you? It's always you, you, you. Nothing is ever about me. Well, if you want to smell something funky, you can kiss my ass."

5. Tears: (sob) "You don't love me any more! You used to love the smell of my vagina and now .... sob ... sob .... sob." Exit to the bathroom to douche.

6. Retreat: "Oh, how embarrassing. Excuse me while I go douche. Back in a sec."

7. Domination: "You lick that pussy right now and you like it, buster. Go on, lick it or you'll feel the heel of my stiletto pressing on your face. Don't make me get out my whip ... "

I could probably go on all night about how stupid this woman is. C'mon! If you're going to be a murderer, surely you can lie a little too!

But she's not only stupid because she didn't have a backup plan. She was stupid because she tried to kill him using her vagina.

It's not that vaginas aren't sometimes used for purposes other than a baby exit or a tampon port or a wiener hugger. Vaginas have been used for smuggling drugs, spices, or small animals into the country for centuries. One woman who was recently in the news was carrying a small handgun in her vagina.

Women have soaked tampons in vodka and gotten drunk. They've .... I don't know. I'm not very creative when it comes to alt uses for the vagina; I'm sure there are more if I wanted to think that hard about it.

But a poison-delivery system? Of all the ways available to poison her husband, this is the best she could come up with? She couldn't slip a little anti-freeze into his Jello? Or crush up some barbiturates and put them in his bourbon? Maybe let some canned green beans go bad and mix some botulism into his dinner? A little arsenic in the warm milk he drinks before bed?

There are a thousand ways she could have killed him other than putting poison in her vagina and trying to get one last cookie before her husband died.

I can just imagine him losing consciousness down there, and her slapping him with her thighs. "Hey! Wake up! You can't die until I come, you selfish bastard."

And what kind of poison did she use? Did she spray some Raid up in there? Stick in some of those rat poison crystals? An anti-freeze douche? What kind of poison would lend itself to vagina-to-tongue delivery? Nobody is telling. Probably afraid of copycats.

And finally, did she discuss this with anybody first? I swear, no woman does something like this without running it by at least 3 people. So she had to have told someone and gotten advice. Bad advice.

Because I'm trying to imagine one of my friends coming to me and saying, "I've had it! That bastard has treated me like shit for 15 years, and now he wants to divorce me. (He had recently told her he was going to divorce her.) I swear I'm going to kill him. I'm going to put poison in my vagina and make him eat me until he dies."

My reply would be .....   ......  crickets ...... ...... blink ... blink .... "You're kidding, right? Surely we can come up with a better plan than that. Of course you can't kill your husband. Are you crazy?"

This whole thing just reeks of stupid. I don't even know why I'm writing about it.

Oh, yeah. Vagina! What a sorry use for a vagina. Vaginas should only be used for good. Vaginas should never be used for evil. Find other ways to commit murder.

No vaginas here

Sometimes I write about vaginas and sometimes I don't write about vaginas, but tonight I'm going to write about no vaginas. And I warn you, I'm going to share some photos of no vaginas so be prepared.

Jane Pain is a Spanish lingerie, swimsuit, and accessory company, and the photos below, taken by photographer Natasha Ygel, are part of some fucked up ad campaign which I assume is supposed to sell lingerie. That would be silky, sexy garments that women (and some men) wear so they can look sexy, seductive, naughty.

And just to be clear, the root of the word "sexy" is "sex." And one of the great benefits of lingerie is that, lurking underneath it, you might expect to find, among other things, a vagina. Nothing wrong with that, right? Wrong.

Evidently one lingerie company would like to us to pretend vaginas don't exist, at least not on their models, not in their ads. Ads they even won an award for, although the award was won in Argentina so who gives a shit anyway.

Dying to see the ads? (Please. You already peeked ahead as soon as you saw the words vagina and photo together, and we both know it.)

I'm still going to warn you. These are, although they don't appear to be at first glance, perfectly safe for work. No nasty vaginas here. No sir. Not a one.

Apparently a little butt crack and some taint is OK. It's the vagina that had to go.

You're looking at the lingerie, right?

You're ready to buy some lingerie by now, aren't you? Quick, what's the name of the company? No peeking above.

The slogan for this ad campaign is "What you can't see is all you want to see." Clever? Or just offensive to all vagina-bearing women everywhere? If the vagina is all you want to see, why do women wear lingerie at all?

So who thinks of this shit anyway? Can you imagine the meetings at the second-rate ad agency that came up with this example of female mutilation?

Bill: "Hey, I know. Let's take typically provocative photos of almost naked models showing their pussies, and then let's make them look like ... you know .... Barbies down there."
Stan: "Great idea, Bill. Women will love it! We'll show only their best parts."
Roger: "Love the idea. Nobody wants to look at those things anyway, am I right? Am I right? Looking down there makes me shudder."
Bill: "Right! Tits and ass, man. Tits and ass. Love the pussy, but I don't want to have to see it. We'll just show tits and ass."

Maybe if this looked like anything other than a rudimentary Photoshop 101 project it could be considered impressive for its shock value. But no. I can't even imagine what audience they thought they might appeal to with this crap.

All these ads do is remind me how very difficult it was to act out all those childish rape fantasies on the desert island between Barbie and Ken, because she didn't have slot A and he didn't have tab B. It was dissatisfying at best, although we just kept doing it -- banging their smooth plastic parts together. GI Joe wasn't any better in the tab department, but at least his knees bent.

What do you think? Clever, eye-catching ad campaign? Or Jesus, Reticula, now I feel like poking out my mind's eye?

I think you know my opinion. I'd rather write about vaginas. And please don't buy me whatever this is for Christmas. I'd rather have the hairy panties.

I'd Lick that Vagina

For those of you who like to lick the frosting, I offer you this tutorial on how to make a vagina cupcake. As an owner of a vagina that doesn't look exactly like this cupcake though, I'm compelled to add a short bit of commentary. First, the toasted coconut might not work for you--either visually or palate-wise. One friend who isn't into the coconut pubes suggested chocolate sprinkles. For that 70's look, I think licorice whips, either black or red, but not red, would work. Or to keep up with the times, you might even want to paint on some little red bumps for that just-waxed look.

I'd also suggest reducing the size of that clit, which is technically a clit hood, and adding a little ball of frosting under there. If clits were that big, Cindy would have found hers long before she found her toes. Guys, I know you're thinking it would sure solve a lot of problems if it were that big, but then we might have to call it something else, like a penis.

Not part of a vagina

Aesthetics aside, I also have to take issue with a few anatomical terms the decorator used in this video. Vaginas don't have sidewalls. Car tires have sidewalls. Also, even if you're going to use the word "vagina" as a generic term for the entirety of the female genitalia, you still can't tell viewers to put the clitoris inside the vagina walls. This woman probably shares a fantasy with all too many men that the clitoris is found inside the vagina walls. It is not.* And neither the bladder nor the "bladder area" should be found in or even outside of the vagina. However, the opening to the urethra, yes, can be found there between the sidewalls labia. Why you would include that part on a vagina cupcake though, I don't know. It's not really sexy and don't we all pretend it's not really there during sex? Also I'm not sure what a "you know" is, but it might be better to call whatever it is a "you know" than to try to think up another car part name for it like a carburetor or a tailpipe.

Finally, I don't know about you, but what she was doing with that paintbrush at the end kind of gave me a tickle. I wonder if it made the vagina cupcake feel all shivery too.

OK, I think you're ready to go forth and make some vagina cupcakes. I'm brewing a new batch of milk licker today or I'd have my fondant and cherry-poppin'-red food coloring out already. If you do make vagina cupcakes, please remember to share. Photos, I mean. Remember to share photos.

* To learn more about how to find a clitoris, please subscribe to the Reticulated Porn blog, a bargain for the low, low price of $39.95.