My uterus really doesn’t need any more confirmation that it basically rules my life. Let’s face it, for those of us of menstruating age, there’s the week of ovulation that can be absolute hell, then there’s a week of PMS bitchy-ass bloating, then the week of uterine hell and a crime scene in your hoo-ha. That’s 3 weeks out of every month. That’s like being in prison and getting “time off” for good behavior.
If my uterus could speak, I am sure it would take complete and total credit for the creation of my two children as well. Fuck the necessity of a second set of genes, sex, ovaries, eggs or anything else that happens outside of the uterus- it was ALL that bitch.
Right… and I have an island off the coast of Italy to sell you. Deeply discounted!
Even my husband has been hyponotized by its evil ways. Any time something is even slightly off, if I even MENTION anything deemed abnormal,
“well, your period is still a week off isn’t it?”
Shut the fuck up poopbreath! Why does this have to have ANYTHING to do with my uterus? How do you know it isn’t the sandwich I had for lunch? Jimminy Fucking Cricket!
What my uterus does NOT need is the entire rest of the world confirming its ego-maniacal ways, but it would appear that once you become of ‘acceptable’ child rearing age, the planet begins to revolve around your lady parts. It’s not just you wondering about what the fuck it’s going to do to you next, it’s everyone else. And it’s all the time.
WHY must everything I say get turned into an interrogation about my reproductive organs? I can understand and relate to making nearly everything a sexual innuendo… because as immature as it is- it’s funny as hell- but when absolutely every word that comes out of your mouth has people asking you if maybe possible you are with child and just didn’t know it? That’s enough to make a girl go double-sporking all up on someone’s face.
If you have experienced this annoying trend at the hands of friends, loved ones, coworkers, and random strangers and would like to put an END to it, once and for all- I have compiled a list of things NEVER to say. Just don’t ever say them and no one will question the contents of your uterus ever again! It’s that easy!
1. “I feel nauseous”– big fucking no-no. Instantly, instead of wondering if perhaps you ate bad cheese, people think you have morning sickness. Nevermind that it’s 7pm.
1. “I feel bloated” “ugh i’m so bloated” – DON’T EVEN MENTION BLOATING. It doesn’t matter if you are clockwork and know that Aunt Flo is going to go Jack Nicholson on your uterus in the next 24 hours, if you mention you’re bloated, people are going to ask if you’re bloated with a baby.
3. “My boobs hurt”– PREGGO! YOU’RE PREGNANT! Are you pregnant? TENDER BREASTS ARE A SIGN OF PREGNANCY!
4. “I’m craving…”– NO. You are not “CRAVING” anything. Don’t even switch it up and say you have a HANKERING. No. You do not. Only pregnant women crave things, duh. It’s a scientific fact.
5. “I feel more tired than usual”– UMMMM, probably because you’re baking a baby in your uterus. Don’t try to hide it.
6. “That smell is making me ill”– What’s that you say? A sensitivity to smells? well DID YOU KNOW that that is a sure sign of pregnancy?? I’ll bet you didn’t know that. I’ll bet you’re knocked up, you hussy!
7. “I want a pickle”– Are you sure that’s ALL you want to tell me? Hmm? Did perhaps you get impregnated by a different kind of pickle? I think so. And I will obnoxiously tease you about it.
8. “I’m Late”– For a meeting? An appointment? The twatburger that is mother nature? You’d better go piss on a stick, incubator!
Ok, so basically what i’m saying is that you can’t ever fucking speak again. Even if you get your lady parts removed, tied up in a knot, or your male gets neutered just like Bob Barker always wanted- the contents of your uterus will forever be under question.
Ain’t being a woman grand?
The “Are You Ready to Have Kids?” Checklist of Doom goo.gl/fb/DTPJ1A
If anyone asks how I died, you can just go ahead and tell them "she was lured in by free pie in exchange for listening to 2nd graders screech Thanksgiving songs for 30 minutes"
Half-Assed Jingler Syndrome goo.gl/fb/McWfBy
@ItsEvieClaire Booze and tears
I'm not saying this is the perfect #Christmas gift for all the parents in your life, but.... okay, yeah I am. That's exactly what I'm saying. Truths from the bowels of parenthood! amazon.com/Kids-Are-Turds…
@Gofashiondeals All of that and more. Good times. Gooooood times