Many of the body parts that are shared by both genders make sense. For example, the face. Being able to see, smell, hear and taste is indisputably wonderful, and having all of these sensory organs positioned at the highest point of our bodies is logical, because we’re predators, and bitches gotta eat. Arms, hands, opposable thumbs? Genius. Bipedalism? The earth is ours.

But I feel like my ethereal awareness, or soul – however you prefer to think of it – entered the human race at an awkward crossroads where most of the shared characteristics have had their kinks worked out, but the gender-specific ones need to be thrown back into product development. In simpler terms: I’m mad at my girly parts.

Boobs, for example. While I would never question the biological imperative of feeding one’s young, must our baby-feeders degenerate so rapidly into ungainly floppiness? Honestly, does Mother Nature hate jogging past the age of 20? After a certain number of years, even the most eye-catching pairs of milk-makers succumb to gravity and splay themselves across their owner’s abdomen creating what amounts to an extra set of sweaty armpits. Epic fail, Evolution. No creature needs two sets of armpits.

And I don’t understand why breasts have to be right out in front, filibustering everything from platonic hugging to eye-to-eye conversation. For Pete’s sake, some of them are so impressive even I can’t help but stare.

Wouldn’t boobs be so much better if they were retractable? Imagine how fantastic life would be if our boobs only made an appearance when we really needed them and the rest of the time we could have non-jiggly, sweat-free chests and adorable, dainty nipples just like men do. This might seem far-fetched, but it’s not; uteruses and penises do it, so why not boobs? Just think – no more bras! My personal Shangri-La. *sigh*

You might be thinking, Well who’s forcing you to wear a bra? And you’re absolutely right, nobody’s putting a gun to my head and forcing me to wear a bra. But there’s this thing called society, okay? Sometimes a girl wants to shop at other places besides Walmart.

But back to the original purpose of boobs, which is supposedly for the feeding of one’s young. Let’s not even dwell on how dreadfully wasteful it is to evolve two major appendages that are only used for a small fraction of one’s lifespan (and yes I know cave people probably breastfed a lot longer than we do and probably had kids hanging off their boobs alllll the freakin’ time so it made more sense back then for boobs to be in constant ready supply. Yeah. I know.)

But let’s instead focus on more important things like how, ohmigod, boobs are so insanely delicate. WTF, evolution? If we’re going to excrete life-nectar from a body part, could that body part maybe be a little tougher? For example, perhaps the milk could come out of a finger, or possibly an elbow? Or maybe we could regurgitate pre-masticated sustenance into our babies’ mouths a la birds and Alicia Silverstone? Anything is better than bloody nipples, okay?

Well I’ve spent enough time railing about boobs. Let’s turn now to vaginas. Yeesh. Talk about an extra armpit. The irony of burying the female body’s ultimate physical pleasure zone between hard-working sweaty legs and covering it up with a giant bush of coarse hair is almost too much for me to handle. Mother Nature, why do you want our vaginas to stink? Why would you do that to us?

And also, why, in the name of all things holy, must vaginas look like pecans? Or, conversely, and perhaps even more pressing: Why do pecans look like vaginas?

Um. Yeah. Thaaaat’s embarrassing.


But the thing that most bothers me about vaginas is this: Why are they so damn small? Is it just so the penis can fit in there all snug as a bug in a rug? Are you trying to tell me, Mother Nature, that just as with everyotherfreakingthing in life, it’s all about him??? I suppose I sort of understand the logic in the “tight fit” concept because, ya know, reproduction and propagation of the species and all, but HELLO, the tiny vagina hole completely throws off the whole childbirth thing. No animal on earth has a harder time squeezing out their screaming progeny than a human. Wouldn’t it make more sense if either penises and vaginas were as big as babies or babies came out as small as penises? (I vote for the latter, oh please oh please oh please I vote for the latter.) I just really can’t wrap my head around the huge size discrepancy among the only two things on earth that spend any amount of time hanging out in the vagina.

And lastly, in our discussion of female anatomy gone horribly awry, let us not forget buttholes. I realize men have buttholes too, but they don’t have theirs placed right next door to another super important and easily infectable hole. It’s just a bit surprising to me that although humans have had tens of thousands of generations to evolve a clean, non-disgusting method to rid our bodies of waste, that – no seriously – quivering anuses and poop was the best we could come up with.

*sarcastic slow clap*

I have tons of other questions about tonsils, appendixes, wisdom teeth and superfluous body hair, but I’m a little too pissed off right now to process any thought other than the unrelenting compulsion to get off my computer and go find some diaper wipes to do something about this gross vagina of mine. (And ladies, always remember to wipe front to back, because buttholes don’t make sense!)

Yeah, I think it’s abundantly clear that anatomically, women have gotten the short end of the stick. Actually, wait a minute… we got no stick. We got a hairy, stinky, pecan-looking, disproportionately tiny hole. Right around the corner from our poop chute.

Thanks for nothing, Mother Nature.


  1. Love, love, loooove your blog! Not to be creepy, but we should be best friends!

    • Yayyyy!!! I love these “I’m not trying to be creepy” comments. (I’ve made a few of them myself on some of my fav blogs) 😉

  2. I might give up chocolate for retractable boobs. I have to wear a bra 24/7 just to keep them happy.

    And thank you for the hearty laughs this morning; the dogs now think I’m nuts for laughing so hard.

  3. I may never be able to eat pecans with such gusto again,,,,or walnuts…or even pistachios.

    I totally agree with your views on the boobs and downstairs parts. I mean, any set up where it’s the norm to squeeze out a poop moments before squeezing out a baby is just wrong…on many levels!

  4. I am dying laughing. Good thing my office is pretty laid back…

    I never had to push out a baby (though 3 were surgically removed from my apparently lazy, useless uterus!) – but I’ve often wondered about the physical structure of the vagina – especially where it involves insertion or expulsion of objects. Especially insertion. Like, there’s only so much space there, mmm kay? So you can just take your excalibur-like sword penis and keep it in your pants, ‘cuz mama ain’t got enough room to accomodate that thang … yes, thang. I just don’t get it. What evolutionary purposes does a yard-o-beef serve?!?! It can’t be fun for him – or more importantly, HER. ‘Cuz the love canal, to my knowledge, doesn’t stretch LENGTHWISE.

    And seriously – who decided all our necessary reproductive parts had to be so … FUGLY. If you don’t have a vagina that stays either irritatingly dry or disgustingly NOT dry all damn day, connected to other parts that leak mucus out through it … then you’ve got a wiener. And I haven’t seen a one of those things that makes me all giddy with excitement. They are ugly. Especially when flaccid. They just hang there, all weird and sad looking.

    I have issues, apparently.

  5. Thank you so much for now making pecan pie something I will never eat again. This will save me so many calories!! Lol! Great piece!

  6. Oh my lord! This is hilarious. I’m not opposed to having boobs 24/7, but couldn’t nature be a little nicer in the size department? Nothing too small, nothing too big, and nothing that deflates. Maybe we could all be a nice perky C cup–like breast-implant boobs without the implant?

  7. And you didn’t even go into the mess and pain and general misery that happens to us once a month!

  8. SNORT! Hilarious post! I try to ignore my parts as much as possible, which makes it even funnier when I read about all the things people are doing to them…vajazzling, anal bleaching, clitoris piercings. I would rather have a giant sign that reads, “LOOK AWAY!”

  9. There’s a Yeats poem somewhere that I am too lazy to look up that says at the end, essentially, if love is so precious, so sanctified, so pure, why the hell is “the seat of love” right next to that other place, the disgusting one?

    Sigh. Indeed.

  10. I once read something that said human beings had to have been designed by an urban planner, because only someone like that would think it was a good idea to put something intended to be used for fun right next door to a waste plant.

    No offense to any urban planners who may be reading–I’m just passing along something someone else said.

  11. actually hyenas have so much testosterone their girly parts grow into a penis like thing that they have to give birth out of….

  12. Men are not good with directions. Therefore, vajayjays are small so they can easily find the target. No directions required.

    • Based on a few of my own past experiences, some men find the terrain of the vajayjay to be all but un-navigable. 😉

  13. *clears throat*

    Ladies? Man. Incoming.

    Sorry, I had to look at the pecan image one more time.

    Yes, you do have it rough. But we men do, too. Think about this: We have as much to cover and protect when defending free kicks in soccer as you do. One hand over the nips, one over the cods. Nature gives us a skull and rib cage to protect nearly all that’s sacred, but the boys? they’re on their own. It’s like putting your heart and brain in a pillow case and tying hanging it on an open soccer goal. With no goalie.

    I’m trying desperately to unread the words about the vajayjay that don’t jive with the image of pristine excellence and unparalleled hygiene. Because, of course.

    Just looked again at the pecans.

    That’s nuts. But, I can see it now.

  14. You are a NUT. See what I did there? As SOON as I saw the word “boobs” and a picture of a PECAN I saw where you were going, and I never thought of it but it DOES like that. I don’t know about mine, I’m never looking at that Horror Show after having 3 kids. No thanks.
    I LOVE your idea about retractable boobs. Or removable. I’ve written that I would be ALL OVER the idea of a “Give a Boob, Take a Boob” tray. I’ve had double D’s my whole life. I’m over them, my husband hates them and calls them “Fat Bitches.” PLEASE let it be someone else’s turn now!

    • Girrrrl, I don’t blame you ONE bit. I’ve got small C’s (too big for a B cup! too small for a C cup! AWESOME!!!!) and I really could quite do without them.

  15. Retractable boobs?! You’re a goddamned genius!

    And who wants to run after age 20? Come to think of it, who wants to run before age 20? No one should run. It’s not natural.

    And wanna know a secret? I never wipe front to back.

    • I actually like running. I would like it more if I didn’t have to wear a stupid sports bra. =)

  16. HA! I just had to get in on the boob part. I have only had them when pregnant and/or nursing. High School was 4 years of teasing. Really, you have no idea how hard not having boobs is during those years. Even some a-hole male teachers joined in. Had I had more gumption I would have done something about it, but being the mouse I am, just waited for it to go away. As I have aged, I have come to enjoy only having one set of armpits.

    • I didn’t have boobs either, when I was younger. They came about with my first pregnancy. 😛

      • And you got to keep em?? Mine noticed their job was done and vacated the premises.

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