Hey rich girls down the block! What’s up? Noticed you were having a little party the other night. Mommy and Daddy sure are liberal with the keys to the booze cabinet, aren’t they?
From our back porch, my husband couldn’t help but hear you playing your out-RAAAY-geous little game. Near as he could tell, it was called, “My Vagina Is…” You all sat in a cute little circle, on your patio (because if you’d stayed inside, how could all the square, boring, non-fabulous (old) neighbors have been exposed to your out-RAAAY-geousness?), and repeated the phrase “My vagina is-”, finishing with an adjective. You were trying to make it through the alphabet. He was lucky enough to hear you shouting your way through “L”. “My vagina is LUSCIOUS!” “My vagina is LOVELY!” Every single adjective you picked was flattering, a tribute to the fabulousness that you’ve convinced yourself is YOU.
Oh, sweethearts. This game could have been so much more. I know that you and your friends are VERY BUSY. Straight-ironing your identical heads of blonde hair, buying Gucci purses and making sure everyone knows that said purses are NOT knockoffs, parking your step-dad’s white BMW on my front lawn. Having a chink in the armor (i.e. a sense of humor) would undermine all the hard work you’ve done. But should you ever decide to step out of your vacuous little circle, come over to my house. Bum a smoke off me, drink a domestic beer, and I’ll play the game with you. With a little self-deprecation, a dash of intelligence, and just a soupcon of humor, you, too, could actually enjoy this game.
Here you go. My list. All 26 letters.
My vagina is…
average, biased, challenging, dilapidated, engrossing, fortified, GIGANTIC!, hirsute (sorry, couldn’t resist), industrious, jet-propelled, kaleidoscopic, literate, morbid, nefarious, opportunistic, peaceful, quixotic, ritzy (I think that one’s my favorite), suspicious, toothy, unassuming, vulcanized, wintry, xenophobic (my second favorite), yellow, and, finally, zesty.
There you go. That wasn’t so difficult, was it?
You’re welcome, girls.
(By all means, feel free to leave your favorite adjectives in the comments section. I think it’s fairly obvious by now, I am not easily offended. Just don’t park your Beemer on my front lawn. Because that’s offensive.)
(Image borrowed from here.)