I like to provide you guys with information. I like to think of it as a personal service I can provide because, well, I know stuff. Lots and lots of stuff. And what I don't know, I look up. For you. I do it all for you.
So, I've been thinking lately about "the facts of life", if you will...the "birds and the bees", you know, sex, fucking, doing it, propagating the species, what have you. I've been thinking about it a lot, actually. Even more often than I usually do, which is saying a lot for lil' old me.
So these thoughts naturally led me to ponder how much things have changed since I was a budding young flower, in terms of how we get information across to our young ladies about their bodies and what to do with them. Dude. Oh my gosh.
This brought me back to that special day in 5th grade health class, when the boys went over to the gym with Mr. C., the sporty young phys ed teacher who looked like a bald Tom Cruise in white knee socks, and the girls stayed behind with wrinkly old Mrs. Neil. Each group was given its own individualized (and extraordinarily sanitized) lesson about "growing up".
For the girls this meant passing around a maxi pad and receiving a booklet called "Very Personally Yours". I was so thrilled to get this booklet I clutched it to my chest as if it were a precious gift from Venus herself, then upon arriving home I slipped it in my "personal" drawer by my bed where I could take it out nightly and paw hungrily through its contents by the white glow of my Virgin Mary nightlight.
I looked online today to see if I could find the booklet, and of course I did.
I'll never forget the confused and lonesome look on the face of the little girl on the cover. It frightened me so. And yet it thrilled me. I was about to be like her!
I would get my period! I would learn to use tampons! (Would I still be a virgin?)
I would need Midol! Pamprin! The heating pad! I could be excused from gym class! Get the bathroom pass whenever I wanted! Oh, I could.not.wait.
What a fucking sucker I was.
Anyway, in looking for the pamphlet I came across some shit that was way weirder than "Very Personally Yours". Check it out.
Does anybody remember this? "pads for teens"? I think this was before my time. But it certainly gives new meaning to the term "Party in my pants". Like somehow a 15 year old's period is going to be so much groovier if she wears maxi pads with rainbow colored confetti designs all over them? And sorry, but is it good to have red dye #3 rubbing up against your clitoris all day? Do you think? I think this is a poorly thought out idea.
Yowch! What the fuck kind of contraption is this, and what kind of loony bitch would stick it up her vag? Looks like a torture device used in the rape section of Freddy Krueger's boiler room. Yeccch.
I didn't know Fresca made a douche! How cool is that? I wonder if it makes your vagina all citrusy and fresh?
OOOOOH, The phantom pad. That's freeeeaky. Does it rattle chains in your undies? If you say "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice", does it magically toss itself in the maxi-pad receptacle box without you having to lift a finger?
Gah! This seems like such a 70's campaign. Some hairbrained post-feminist "invention" to make women's lives "easier". Yeah. A woman is infinitely more comfortable ramming a plastic stick up her crotch than she is using her own finger to insert a tampon. I don't mean to sound all feminazi but I'm betting a woman didn't come up with this idea.
Y'all remember this one? Will I still be a virgin if I use tampax? Um, yup. And I'm guessing you're in for one hell of a nasty surprise if you think a teenage boy's penis in any way resembles a tampon, sweets. Especially if you date a football player. I'm just saying.
This one is the most insane of all, hands down. THE LYSOL DOUCHE. No shit. Apparently, in 1948, Lysol was thought of as effective and safe as a "personal feminine hygiene" product, in addition to its use as a regular household cleaner!
I'm betting a lot of women disagreed. As did their lawyers. You guys have to click on the picture and actually read the ad.
Appealing daintiness is assured because the very source of objectionable odors is eliminated!
I assume that by "source", they mean the actual vagina.
And what better way to burn off one's vagina than by spraying Lysol into it?
Happy Weekend, lovers!!!
The Blizzard of '17
5 days ago