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?
Sheesh.
Happy Weekend, lovers!!!
MWAH!
This SHIT is BANANAS
4 years ago
21 comments:
I think the ads in about five years will be a woman shaking her ass in hiphop clothes belting out "My pizza sauce brings the boys to the yard!"
And no wonder drinking fresca is considered gay. It's so damn delicious, though
Yeah, there is nothing I can add to this whole thing, but like not saying something won't work either.
One of the great things about being a guy is we have 2 options, with foreskin, or without. Most us have absolutely no input into this decision and we don't remember it all. The lucky ones have a picture in the back seat of the Grand Marquis with the Mohel saying "perfect".
I'm a guy, i can be moody any damm time I want, and I never have to empty the garbage can in my bathroom.
Pads for Teens?????
WTF?
I thought those were just really big bandaids.
That would explain all the laughing and smirking.
Guess ya learn something new every day.
I find it interesting that the first three comments on this post are from my gentleman readers. As I said, I like to teach you guys. It's what I do.
Mr. U, I am worried that in 5 years they'll come up with a way to stop menstruation altogether, something they've been working on for some time. It's highly unnatural and weird and in my opinion, just another way that society seems to want to suppress women's natural biological rhythms. Menstruation is normal. As is menopause. Sometimes medical technology does more harm than good. Wow. Apparently I feel strongly on that subject.
Steve,
Did you just make an obscure SNL reference? I got it if so. Well done, sir.
Pronto,
I'd worry about anyone who had a cut that big. Ew.
Oh, and my pizza sauce totally brings all the boys to the yard. Not a big fan of hiphop clothes though. Not my style.
If they stop women from menstruating it will be a free for all. I can just see all the as yet unborn myspace girls I'll sexualize.
Thanks for getting me aquainted with your vajayjay.
Mr. U,
Like I said, I like to do things for you guys.
That said, Note to self, do not EVER let Lily talk to a guy on Myspace who talks about koolaid in hell...
That would be more than a cut Krissy,
I think it would be a gash.
Just sayin'
Oh, and thanx for the lessons.
Party favors and endomrtriol lining describe every party I've ever thrown.
I can't believe guys went down on women in the '40s. Leave it to beaver...
Lysol?? Was it still in an aerosol can?? LOL
Uh...
Fiesta pads! Redeem 12 proofs of purchase for a free sombrero, less shipping and handling! 15 for a cactus!
Yeah... I got nothin'.
Hmmm... you ever get that not so fresh feeling? I asked my mom this very question at Krogers today. She was 4 isles down, so I had to kinda shout. I know she didn't hear me, cause she started running and disappeared down an aisle. sigh... I'm still in the dark.
This was a true joy to read. Ah, the memories. I have vague recollections of the multi-coloured pad strips.
Our sex education was done much the same as yours. Year 6 - boys to one classroom, girls to the library to be given by our prune-faced elderly librarian. Sheer torture! I learnt nothing but how to do the silent sniveling into my palm.
When I got my periods my Mum came home with a brown paper bag and the biggest fucking pads you've ever seen. She left them on my bed and said nothing.
I wore those surfboards for about five years until they invented those thin ultra absorbents. Joy!
Pronto, a gash, huh? wow~
Jack, I don't think they really did. No way.
That would mean my grandparents did that. Not even.
Ron, does it matter if it was areosol? THE POINT IS: lysol in the vagina. Whoa.
Scoot, Nice try though.
Kim, I wanna meet your mom.
Kate, that's sooo funny, it just reminded me that my sister and I used to use the mini pads (that fold up into a nice little square) as Barbie pillows. Had we been given access to the large motherfuckers, we'd surely have used them as surfboards for Malibu Ken.
Dear. Lord. I'm at a loss after reading that Lysol ad up close and personal.
Could life have been more archeaic?
Note to self: GB, you will never find a husband if you don't start working on your daintiness.
Note to self: GB, you will never find a husband if you don't start working on your daintiness.
Cat and GB,
Let that be a lesson to you.
Have Lysol, will attract a man.
(But you will not be able to enjoy sex with said man, because your vagina will be terribly fried with third degree burns from spraying lysol inside of it).
That was some amazing shit! Holy crap, did ANYONE ever actually put Lysol up their cooter? Oh my God, what a horrific idea!
I think I love you.
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