Mine would wear a blanket. A warm fleece tie-blanket.
The Vagina Monologues have been very influential in my life. This is the fourth year I've seen them, and for the fourth year, I have laughed and cried and thought about and identified with the monologues. "My Angry Vagina" and "The Woman Who Liked to Make Vaginas Happy" are two of my favorite funny monologues. Cold mean duck lips, dry wads of fucking cotton and the surprise triple orgasm get the whole audience laughing. Others, like "My Vagina Was My Village" and "Memory of Her Face" bring me to tears to think of the pain that women experience because of they are women.
Others, like "The Flood" and "The Little Coochie Snorcher That Could" make me so thoughtful. These poor women have/had oppressed any comfort or identification with their down there's and coochie snorchers. Our vaginas are a part of us. What has to happen for you to only associate your coochie snorcher with pain and misery and humiliation? And even more perplexing, how did more abuse save your coochie snorcher and help it become a source of pleasure? Probably, my favorite one is "Hair." Hair is about a woman whose husband made her shave her vulva, and cheated on her when she wouldn't. Why would shaving your vag to make yourself look like a 10 year old be a turn-on? Hair is there because it hasn't lost it's evolutionary purpose yet. Being sanitary is important, but having hair isn't unsanitary. I don't need to shave my vag. It and I are just as happy and healthy with hair as without it.
In any case, if you haven't seen the Vagina Monologues, I suggest you see it. It's a wonderful play, and all proceeds help end violence against women (money is donated to local organizations depending on where you see it).
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