I'm a bitch. A wrinkled bitch.

In my 23 years of living on this god forsaken planet, I have never felt more degraded or insulted than I do on this very day. I have had strange men try to rub their genitals on me on the train multiple times. I’ve had a hobo come up to me and put hand on my ass. I’ve had men say the most horrid, raunchy, disgusting things to me while I’m walking down the street. A middle aged man at a bar once pulled out a wad of twenties, looked me right in the eye, and asked me “How much?” with a despicable smirk on his face. I’ve been called a dyke, bitch, whore, skank, slut, prude, and just about every word that has been created to put a woman down… but it honestly didn’t bother me as much as what I just had to do.

I  had to unscrew a toilet seat, with my bare hands, that was caked in old urine. I had to fill up the bathtub with hot water and bleach to soak it in to get the ancient, chunky piss off of the nuts, bolts, the plastic flap that covers the nut, and the whole damn seat to get the pee off of it. I then had to get on my HANDS AND FUCKING KNEES to scrub the urine off of nearly every inch of that porcelain god. It was just about everywhere. Old piss. I had to scrub the floor around said toilet and that little space between the floor and the toilet because it had gotten in there and started to turn black. Oh, and lets not forget the splatter on the garbage can and the toilet brush container. It’s a guarantee it’s on the wooden drawers right by the toilet as well. If it made it to the garbage can, there’s no doubt it’s on that too.

I don’t know if anyone else has had to touch stale pee before, but it has a very distinct sticky pee feeling and amazingly powerful stench that would make just about anyone puke in there mouths. I noticed the smell quite a few weeks ago when my roommate pointed it out to me. I attempted to get rid of the stank and it kind of worked until it slowly came back in the passing days. I should have called a fucking hazmat team in to take care of it or used my go-to solution to any problem in Vagina house: suggest that we burn the mother down. It probably would have been safer for my health. While pee is sterile, I’m sure a combination of different men’s urine accumulating in the same places and sitting around for quite a while is not ideal.

What hurts me the most is that it’s in my own place of living. If it was my career to clean up after rude ass people in bathrooms I wouldn’t take it so personally… but it isn’t. People I know and love, including my own stupid boyfriend, use that toilet on a fairly regular basis. I can tell you right now that I, and I’m about 99.9% positive that the other women in this house, am and are incapable of getting pee to the crevices I found it in, nor do I think they would do that. You think that the men in our lives would take into consideration that the women that love and support them kind of expect them to be so kind as to MAKE IT INTO THE GOD DAMN MOTHER FUCKING COCK SUCKING TOILET.

WAH WAH WAH, it splatters. You’re grown ass men. You’ve had 20+ years of practice. I would think you’re capable of figuring out a way to do it without getting it everywhere. You’re not controlling fire hoses, for fucks sake. I get that people have accidents. Shit happens (sometimes literally). I, myself, have dripped a little wee wee on the toilet seat. The difference is that I have the fucking common courtesy to clean it off. It’s really not that difficult a concept.

You’re not a child and we’re not your mother’s. We’re not you’re fucking caretakers. We’re not your maids. We’re your lovers and friends. Don’t forget that. It feels like the ultimate “Fuck you” and like you don’t give a shit that WE, your girlfriends and friends that have grown to love your silly asses, have to scrub up your urine off of OUR fucking toilet. We don’t do that at your houses or apartments. This is VAGINA HOUSE. Remember that or you can take your dangles and go pee outside.




So, I’ve been meaning to finish two blog posts about the negative connotations surrounding what a feminist is and another one about my feelings toward Occupy Wall Street… but I keep not being satisfied with the final drafts. I’ll get around to it. Don’t you fucking rush me. Instead, I wanted to post a textual conversation that me and that guy I’m dating had just a few moments ago because it made me laugh my silly, white ass off:


Scott: “I may have gone all Shane today.”

Me: “Did you abandon your best friend who was in a coma during the zombocalypse and bang his wife and possibly knock her up? And you then get drunk and try to rape said guy’s wife when he was out of the coma? Then did you shoot a guy so the zombies would be too busy eating him to come after you?”

Scott: “The last one.”

Me: “You shot a guy so you could selfishly get away from a horde? You unbelievable bastard.”

Scott: “And then in shame of myself, I decided the only way to start over was to shave my head.”

Me: “I saw it more as him shaving his head to symbolize that shaved headed Shane was now evil and here to stay.”

Scott: “Either way, my hair is gone.”

Me: “HAHAHHA! Best conversation ever.”

Scott: “I like you.”

Me: “Shit, I love you.”

Scott: “Are you high?”

Me: “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”


Truly awesome.





So, I just basically set up my personal blog and with all the rainbows and vagina icon… it’s no wonder people think I’m a butch dyke. I could get into how it’s not fair that I’m looked at as a lesbian for liking rainbows, cars, video games, and thinking the female form is beautiful, but I just wanted to write something down and really just see how it looks.

Live long and prosper, bitches.

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