Girl Downstairs

Today was a big day for me

It took me months to stop being so spastic when rolling a joint. Even though it seems as though I owe it all to my friend, what I actually meant to type was I couldn’t have done it without YouTube. I was too embarrassed to correct myself in another text so I thought I’d post my gratitude to YouTube (and her) here.

Having a night in with Scandles and she’s absolutely killing me with her Liam Neeson references. Only my roommate could compare having candy stuck in a vending machine to Liam Neeson’s skills at retrieving his daughter from the foreign sex trade.

I can’t find my bank card which means I can’t get cash out to pay for parking at the hospital. This must be what it feels like to be American.

There aren’t very many words that I don’t like saying or hearing - moist, wet-nap, panties, damp, slalom, gesture - but wet-nap is by far the worst.

Whenever I hear someone say wet-nap my entire body cringes. I understand that the term pretty much sums up its purpose; a wet napkin. And even though moist is near the top of my words to avoid list, I’d rather someone say moist towelette than wet-nap. Just typing wet-nap is sketching me out.

When I hear wet-nap it just makes me think of someone who has woken up to find out they fell asleep while masturbating and still finished. Waking up to find themselves with a sticky mess on their hands to deal with. (That pun was unintended but I’m totally leaving it in)

Try not to think of this the next time you get a moist towelette with your chicken wings.

While grocery shopping last night my friend spotted this poster on the bulletin board.

My friend cracked me up with this line “Maybe they should have spent more time looking for their cat and less time on the poster.”

I’ve been trying to put myself into the same mindset as whoever spent this much time making a poster instead of looking for their cat but I just can’t get there.

Was it: Oh noes, I lost my cat but this is a great opportunity to showcase my design abilities.

Or: Damn, Alfred ran away. I’m so glad I took these two pictures of him, now instead of going out to look for him I can spend the evening making a badass poster to put up.

When my friends started marrying off and having babies I found out it is common for women to shit on the delivery table during birth. This bit of information stuck with me for a long time and made me pretty uneasy about having kids, eventually I decided if I were ever to have a baby I’d have a C-Section and deal with the scar later.

Just as I was getting over the brutal stories of what would happen to my snatch if I forced a child out of it, I learn this god-awful bit of information - LABIA DISCOLORATION.

It’s a thing, look it up if you doubt me, but I’ll give you the quick lowdown on it. Basically as you get older, your labia loses its coloring and turns a grey-ish kind of color. I’m picturing old meat. I don’t know how accurate that description is and I’m terrified to find out how close I am with it. It should be mentioned that this happens to dicks too.

I want to be clear, I DID NOT discover this because of personal reasons; I was reading http://www.uhpinions.com and came across a review of My New Pink Button.

While I was reading the reviews, I realized I had no idea what this product was. So, I looked it up, something I regret now.

I don’t know why it never occurred to me that this was something that would happen, and I guess it makes sense. The rest of you kind of loses coloring, you hair turns grey and your skin gets pale.

I’m already dreading getting older and this newfound information about what to expect from body as I do has shaken me up pretty badly. But I guess I am supposed to be reassured that they sell “a temporary dye to restore the youthful pink color back to your labia.”