Saturday, September 8, 2012

Ladies: Be Less Gross with NEW Urinal Cake Tampons!

First, a word of warning to any easily flustered relatives, gay male friends and/or gay male relatives who may be reading: Although the following post is not about anything particularly graphic or gross (i.e., sex), it does make reference to the potentially disturbing fact that vaginas exist, and, more specifically, that I personally own and operate one.

(Ahem)  “What Is Up With Scented Tampons?”: An essay by Marguerite E. Kennedy

What is up with scented tampons? I mean, seriously. Can anyone on earth explain this concept to me?

Last month, around “that time”—my Aunt Flo was visiting, and, as a funny coincidence, I had my period—I rushed into the drugstore, double-parked, and continued to listen to my iPod while purchasing tampons (ladies—don’t buy tampons while texting, talking, or otherwise distracted!). When I got home, I caught a whiff of a powdery, antiseptic scent. For a minute, I wondered if I hadn’t accidentally dragged in our ironic Cat Butt Scent air freshener (a product that actually smells a bit like Pine Sol). As it turned out, the smell was emanating from the box of tampons.
Also can be used as a feminine hygiene product!
Having no other “harpoons,” as my friend Amy calls them, I briefly considered using one of said "Fresh Scent!" tampons. However, I found that I could not, for the same reason that I have no desire to shove an ironic Cat Butt air freshener into my netherest of regions.

I’m not an expert on the finer points of human anatomy and the female reproductive system.  However, last time I checked, tampons go on the inside. From what I’ve “heard from doctors,” the inside of the body is ... the OPPOSITE OF THE OUTSIDE. I haven’t measured, but it’s at least a good seven or so inches up there, and, being internal, all that nasty vagina stuff doesn't even interact with air, a necessary step in creating any smell, malodorous or not. Furthermore, the region is  nicely encased by internal organs, not to mention all those magic fairies with Swiffers who push out unwanted sperm (unless a woman is a total slut and actually “likes it”—that makes the fairies cry and, while distracted, they let the sperm past the goal..).

Correct me if my geometry is off, but, to be able to
smell the upper quadrants of a vagina, you'd have to have your entire nose lodged deep inside said orifice (a.k.a. “nosing"). And even then…how far could a nose go?  Thus, only the magic fairies and/or the lesser-known Cervix Monster would stand to be offended by a woman’s internal fluids.

Now, we all know that the female body is mysterious and…well, simply disgusting. And we should all be deeply ashamed of it.  (“Never trust a creature that bleeds for seven days and doesn’t die!" Harrr!) It is a fact—I’ve heard from doctors—that “vagina stuff,” even while still in the body, causes packs of wild dogs to start foaming at the mouth. It makes babies cry, and causes the price of gas to go through the roof.This being the case, we should probably all switch to my new product: Urinal Cake Tampons (see mock-up above) to avoid grossing the world out any more than we have to.

Any venture capitalists out there who want to get in on the ground floor??

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Pablo the Burrito Unicorn Goes To Burning Man

I came across this sign the other day, a few blocks from my house. As much as I had to roll my eyes at the thought of a hipster Burrito Unicorn (Burriticorn?), the thought of the Pablo insouciantly flying over bridges made feel warm and fuzzy about living this neighborhoodone where plush mythological/fast-food creatures are not bound by the shackles of gravity, and are worried over.

You come across a sea of “Lost!” posters here on Seattle’s Capitol Hill, usually featuring mug shots of cats and dogs (who are only occasionally shaped like popular Mexican food items). These posters often provoke a lively debate as to whether or not these pets should be kept indoors. Outside, they’re prone to encounter cars, raccoons, coyotes & other critters that Pixar films would lead you to believe are adorable and sassy and have compelling back-stories, whereas, in real life, most of them are just kind of a-holes. Below is one of the most memorable posters of the summer, re: a sneezy, transgendered kitty named Lola (good news: she was found!).
A feature-length cartoon about Lola's Big Night is forthcoming.
Please???Photo via CHS/ @uncle_vinny
My theory is that most of these animals aren’t “lost” so much as “escaped.” Behind each wide-eyed tabby on the posters, I always imagine a feline version of The Great Escape, or maybe The Shawshank Redemption. These cats have been planning it from day one. They’re the ones who rolled the bottle of whiskey in front of you, so that you would leave the door open…

As for Pablo, are his owners sure he’s really “lost”? Maybe he just decided to pick up and go to Burning Man with all the other flying Burrito Unicorns. Now that the BM festival is over, Pablo should be rolling back in any day now. WARNINGS: You’ll be shaking out the sand and glitter for weeks. He may use words like “epic,” “intense” and (worst of all) “neo-pagan” more than any person and/or mythological burrito-beast has any right to. Also, you’re bound to have a few moments of confusion before you remember that Special K isn’t just a breakfast cereal.

Here’s hoping that Pablo wasn’t in fact eaten by a stuffed Chihuahua-Pegasus (Chihuagasus?) who only eats plush Mexican foods with a single horn...