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Tampons: Life Savers or Pussy Plugs?
And other random thoughts on menstruation
February 1, 2004
Pardon me for choosing menstruation as my first editorial topic. It's been a part of every woman's life. Yet, it's still taboo, like masturbation, which is also a part of every woman's life no matter how much we may deny it. But for articles on masturbation, ya'll are gonna have to wait your turn.
I know women have a bad reputation as bad drivers but we have a good excuse. Have you ever tried to drive a stick shift, put on mascara and talk on your cell phone while your tampon is sticking you funny?
That's a joke. I actually don't wear tampons - never have. I'd rather pad up and pretend I'm Brett Favre for 5-7 days every month than stick a plug in my vagina. That's all a tampon is really, a pussy plug. And call me crazy but when I'm menstruating I want to open the drain, not close it. I want that blood out. If I could piss it out all in one setting, I would. It'd probably fill a bucket bigger than the one dropped on Sissy Spasek at her Prom. But I don't care. I'd pour it in the garden and use it as fertilizer or something. The Red Cross would suddenly never be short of blood again, thanks to the anonymous donations left on their doorstep. I believe in recycling. Surely, there must be some use for my discarded blood. And if the Red Cross didn't take it, I could leave it on the doorstep of the creepy neighbors down the street, with a note attached - free, to a good home.
Wes Craven, call me. I can save your prop department gallons of money.
You know what's gotta suck? Having your period while taking a drug test. I had to urinate in a cup once and I believe that every experience can teach you something valuable about life. The experience of pissing in a cup taught me that it's damn hard to piss in a cup. First of all, they give you a tiny little dixie cup barely the size of a thimble. Secondly, you can never piss on demand. No, if you want me to take a whizz, let me crawl into bed, get comfortable under the blankets and begin drifting off to sleep. That's the only predictable time I have to piss. I can't schedule my excrement, folks. Sorry, I'm not a Type A Personality. And of course when you know you have to piss, you can't piss. The idea alone of having to piss is overwhelmingly threatening. And mental worry only restricts your ability to urinate. Assuming you do manage a few nervous dribbbles, being nervous makes your hand tremble, thus resulting in wet fingers. If lucky enough to actually get any urine in the cup, the quantity of urine isn't enough to drown a grasshopper.
Then, defeated and humiliated, you approach the nurse with your almost empty cup and then you have to explain how "that's all I can go, sorry."
Now, imagine the dread if your piss was all red. Like you went into the bathroom, mixed toilet water with cherry Kool Aid or something, but it's clearly not Kool Aid because last I knew Kool Aid didn't coagulate into thick undeniable rubbery clots that stick to the sides of a paper cup.
Not that any of this has ever happened to me. I'm just saying, wouldn't it suck?