Hey, Wait, I've Got a New Complaint.
There is nothing I hate worse than that yearly visit to the OBGYN. My palms literally sweat, I get so nervous. My cooch would probably sweat, too, if that were possible. Is that possible? Nevermind, we can discuss it later.
Thanks to Eve, that fruit thieving bitch, all of woman-kind have been cursed with uncomfortable menstrual bleeding requiring the use of products bearing alarming names such as THE DIVA CUP, LUNA PANTIES, PLEASURE PUSS MENSTRUAL WEAR, and GLAD RAGS. But that's not the worst part of our curse. After decades of suffering through thousands of rags that FOR THE LOVE OF PETE ARE NOT GLAD, we have to endure the unfathomable pain of childbirth. Not to mention the 18-year-long purgatory of raising Satan's demon spawn, otherwise known as your kid. But even if your birthing experience was filled with pain and placentas and episiotomies, the curse still has not loosened it's sharp and bony death grip from around your ovaries. Oh no my friends, because year after year, for the rest of your life, you must endure the torture of... THE SPECULUM. There's just no escape from it's cold, hard, metallic, snapping jaws. It gives me nightmares and an unhealthy fear of salad tongs.
Why I pay a middle-aged black woman wearing way too many red accessories to touch me in my Pleasure Pinnacle is a complete mystery. Should I be offended that nobody told her she's a) too old and b) too rich to be shopping at T.J. Maxx? Dude, you inspect vaginas and snatch babies from them FOR A LIVING. And coming from someone who's vagina you've recently inspected, I feel as if I can be honest with you and say that I find your red headband, red necklace, red earrings, red bracelets, red belt, red ring and red fingernails to be ever-so-slightly distracting. DEAR GOD, I just thought of something. What if she wore that sasquatch of a ring while "examining" me?! She probably ripped me a new urethral meatus.
So anyway, there I am, lying completely naked in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the exam room waiting to be violated, thinking to myself, "Oh my God look at my thighs. She's going see my thighs. They look like cottage cheese, how gross. Is it cold in here? Did I shave today? I wonder if she knows when people make 'special accommodations' down below just for her. Should I have made special accommodations? No, it would just go to waste; she could care less. Besides, I'm sure she's seen worse. Should I take off my socks? Leave them on? Which are cleaner- my feet or my socks? Socks, definitely socks. Jeez, I'm all sweaty and shivering and nervous like a virgin on prom night. Oh, look, they use KY, that's cool. What should I have for lunch? Chick-fil-A? Oh yeah, I have that salad in the fridge. I wonder if they'll warm up the speculum before shoving it in there. Damn, she's delivered some ugly ass babies. Why do they only hang up pictures of the ugly ones? When do Girl Scout cookies go on sale? I need some Thin Mints." et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
When she finally came in, she of course DID look at my thighs (DAMMIT!) and also noticed the enormous monstrosity of a bruise forming on my inner left thigh. I knew she would see that, how could she not? It covers 2/3 of my lower body and is sprouting several coconut-sized knots in a lovely medley of fall colors. I think I can even feel some teeth starting to form under there. Last week at work I performed a sort of quasi-amputation of my left leg when I pummeled my thigh into the corner of an open filing cabinet while traveling roughly at the speed of light. The impact was so severe that I could feel it in my toes. The point-of-contact turned ghost white and formed a boulder-sized knot, while the surrounding tissue morphed into a red and purple Lava Lamp before my very eyes. Groovy.
So as a result, my leg is now a shriveled, blackened and useless appendage dangling from my hip-socket. It's not so noticeable with clothes on, but I was NAKED, people. So she noticed. Of course I try to play it off, like "Oh, that old thing? Hahaha you'll never believe what happened, it's so crazy. This one time... I, like, ran into something really hard." Of course she eyeballed me suspiciously, because that's her JOB. When she sees unusual bruises in unusual places, she's supposed to ask questions and call the authorities. The thing is, I KNEW she would notice and I was really nervous about what she would think.
As if you haven't heard enough stories about how clumsy I am... there's more. Two years ago at my yearly vaginal violation, the doctor was taking care of her business down below when she suddenly said, "What's this? A bruise?"
Wait a minute, I thought. She's looking at my cervix, isn't she? HOW DID I GET A FUCKING BRUISE ON MY FUCKING CERVIX?
Trying not to panic, I asked her, "Uh, where is there a bruise?"
I won't go into specifics (too late, right?) but suffice it to say that she pointed to a sensitive (non-cervical) area of my puffer where there was-- and I had to take her word on this one-- a bruise. So I was racking my brain for any reason why a bruise would be THERE, because honest to God that general region had not received any bruise-worthy action in some time. So I just stared at her, dumbfounded, like "I have no idea how that got there, doctor." Then she gave me my second surprise of the day and stuck her finger in my junks. Yes, BOTH of my junks. Mmmhmm. Betcha can't top THAT.
As I slowly ambled bow-legged through the parking lot, I suddenly remembered. At work I had been carrying a chair taller and heavier than myself and in the process of trying to achieve the impossible, I had racked myself in the girl-nads with the corner of the chair. I must have blacked out from the pain because I had completely forgotten about it until that moment. But it was too late, she probably documented in my chart that I exhibited the behavioral and physical signs of sexual abuse. Anyway, I didn't really have time to run inside and tell her, because I was too busy trying to control the anal leakage caused by her FINGER PROBING AROUND INSIDE OF A PLACE THAT NO GLOVED FINGER SHOULD GO. (Wait, did I just say that? Me, who sticks my gloved finger in people's asses for a living? Yes, I did. But in all fairness I GIVE MY VICTIMS AMPLE WARNING. Please God, if there's a special place in hell for anal-probers, at least differentiate between the ones who are gentle and considerate from those that hastily and haphazardly jab. Please don't condemn me to the same part of hell as that finger-happy wench.)
I go to a different doctor now, but I know she has my charts and has probably already called the police. "No, officer, I swear I'm just clumsy! I ran into a doorknob! I fell down the stairs!" Do I sound like a battered housewife or what? Ah, well. There will be a special place in hell for her, where red T.J. Maxx accessories will be all the rage for eternity.
Until next year...
We here at Satan's Big Red Playground have reviewed your request for not being associated with general population of anal probers. It is with regret we must tell you that we feel that grounds for separation are not fully justified based on the following reason:
Associating Satan with Demon Spawn.
If you would like to appeal our review, please send your SSN and $49.95 (cashier's check only, non-refundable) to: Categorization Appeals, Red Zone 5, Lower Earth - along with your documentation and we'll be happy to review the circumstances.
On a personal note, disassociating yourself from your type of people isn't wise when you get down here. It's hard to make friends, you need some common ground from the beginning or you just won't last. Besides, we see potential in your abilities and could possible work something out where we could sub contract you for some probing of our "high maintenance" tenants.
Either that or you and I could have a little fun on the side.
Thank you for your time,
Anal Probe Review, Chapter 0001
Red Zone 5, Lower Earth
You are so funny. Thanks for starting my day off on a hysterical note.
Seriously though, who, WHO?
Finger Jabbers, perhaps?
Ever since I was 17, I've been going out for ice cream after the exam. It's my way of making it a good day.
I get poke and prodded next month and now I can lay there and quietly giggle during said poking and prodding...perhaps that will creep out my doc?
I had a doctor, Ms. Seriouso, who once lectured me because she found part of a dissolved peppermint altoid lodged next to my cervix. She nagged me for 10 minutes about putting "products containing sugars" in my cooter. That was a good thing though, because it meant I didn't have to hear her debriefing on the labia piercings I had got in the 12 months since she last "saw" me.
The next year I wanted to play a joke on her so I stuck one of those valentine candy hearts up there just before she came in to examine me. I actually got a good laugh out of her when she pulled it out and read "Bite Me" outloud.
But damn it if I didn't pay for my arrognace - because as it turns out, putting sugar-based products in the pleasure pinnacle *can* cause a yeast infection.
P.S. Fuck all you complainers who don't have to get the anal probe every time.
One more thing - some comedian did a bit about the whole naked-at-the-doc's thing. I love how comedians just have to point out something that is TRUE but that we don't TALK about and it's BAHAHA! funny. Anyway, this one was on about how funny it is that we get undressed... as if seeing our panties is somehow more privacy-invading than seeing all our o'keefian glory. That's not something we ever talk about, but it is TRUE and therefore I died laughing. "I do that! OMG!" Bahaha..
1. Scoot down.
No, bitch, I'm pulling back and resisting!
Also, whoever invented a cold metal expanding device intended to go into coochies should be SHOT. I went to a new doc last year when my regular one was sick and she said 'You may feel a little pressure,' and then RAMS the damn thing open to roughly the size of an average baby's head. Yea, little my ass, she should've said 'Okay, I'm going to stretch your vagina open now like you're giving BIRTH, hang on to the side of the table and bite this tongue depressor.'
Girl.A... did she REALLY find a partially dissolved peppermint altoid up there? I know you well enough to think that this might actually be a true statement, and I'm frightenend. You should have told her you wanted to be minty fresh for your exam. I'm sure people have done worse. Like douching. Altering your body's pH with flavored ammonia HAS to be worse than a little old altoid.
That's why they get paid the big bucks...that and so they can buy out the clearance accesory bin at Gordmans.
Lesson learned: No hanky panky in the wee hours the day before gyno appt. And no more sugar in the sugarpot.
For the record I have used the sea pearls sea sponges and they are awesome. The only thing I use. They are so comfortable that the first time I used them I was actually sad for my period to end. I was excited the next month to have it again. Very weird Because I hate the monthly menses but it speaks well for this awesome product.
I just came across your blog and wanted to
drop you a note telling you how impressed I was with
the information you have posted here.
I have a usa playstation2 codes
Come and check it out if you get time :-)
How to repair car immo super vehicle diagnostics tool!