When things fall out of your refrigerator when you open it, you know its time to clean the thing out. Its not like there’s more than three or four items in there that are actually edible. But if I clean it out, it will look empty and cavernous, and gremlins will move in.
Its raining today, and I’m menstruating. Those two things seem to go together. Not because of any banal ‘flood’ analogies, just because they both seem like a good excuse to sit indoors and write about what’s in my refrigerator.
Or whats in my vagina.
I use the menstrual cup. Does anyone else use this? I switched about two years ago and just can’t imagine ever going back to the lowly tampon. Its cheaper because its re-usable, its environmentally friendly, and you can wear the thing for up to 12 hours without having to worry about it. Fuck, its great.
But I find that women are difficult to convert from their preferred menstrual products. Its almost like a religion for some women and of course, I’m the heretic. But aren’t I in all things?
I remember R the Oobee once threw a menstrual party to celebrate her menstruation. Her primary make-up choice for the party was to paint her cheeks with her own blood. A lot of people thought this party was a pretty weird thing to do, but I thought it was probably one of her more sane moments. I enjoyed the party, but then, I enjoyed every party, regardless of what lame excuse was used to throw it.
Of course I realise that most of my blog’s readers are men, and half of those gay men. This subject isn’t going to interest men at all. In fact, it seems to frighten them a lot of the time. I think its silly that men keep themselves ignorant of women’s bodily functions. But still, I’ll post a warning in the title so that men can avoid this post if they wish - oh and I did find a pic of the menstrual cup on amazon, and look… there’s that disembodied hand again.
But you know, I have bodily functions - I pee, I poo, I menstruate, I drool in my sleep, and during the spring my eyes water and some really unpleasant substances run from my nose.
I also have a really messy refrigerator.
Buy me a beer!
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This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 13th, 2006 at 9:40 am and is filed under phenomenal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.





Deep down we like to hear everything about it. Call it menstruation envy.
Sensible gadget that..
So it wasn’t just Tuesday Blues.
Yeah we always suspected men had some kind of womb-envy gong on.
And it was partially tuesday blues and partially the monthly need for chocolate. I’m feeling better because i now have a nice tub of chocolate ice-cream in the freezer.
And my freezer, by the way, is reasonably tidy.
I don’t find this disturbing, despite being a gay man. In fact, I’ve never heard of the menstrual cup. Has it been around for millenia and I’ve just missed it? Is there a religious version, like a Lady Blood Chalice or somesuch? So many things to learn, so few women willing to tell us! I, for one, appreciate the honesty.
We all have bodily functions, it’s true. They’re not really gross, really. Except for poo. And Vomit. Now THAT is just wrong. I suppose it is better than dying from ptomaine poisoning, though.
But, I digress. Where can I get this cup?! I am sure R the P can add to the discussion of R to the Oobee’s silly obsession with bodily functions, especially hers. What a looney. Still, as you say, any excuse for a party will do.
Oh, after looking again, I see that Google posted an ad for the Moon Cup (TM) Menstrual Cup, so I can get my own. Given the name, you *must* have bought that one. Silicone is nice and pliable and tends to be quite strong, though I admittedly have never kept any inside my person for a any length of time. How clever of you to find such a thing (perhaps all women know about this thing, but I’ve never heard of it)!
Little. Silicone. Different.
I’ve been trying to convert my women friends to the menstrual cup for.. well, since I’ve been using it.
Its rather scary that my first convert to the cup would be a man. Good luck wearing that in your person, JtO.
Its possible that you’ve never heard of it because proctor and gamble don’t want people to know that there’s a permanent, safe, inexpensive, environmentally friendly alternative to the tampon. (it was the ‘inexpensive’ that sold me, and after that the rest fell into place)
Or it could just be that you don’t read too many of them earth-friendly feminist-type magazines.
Personally I think they’re the best thing to happen to menstruation since the hysterectomy.
I like the name “Lady Chalice” much better than “Moon Cup.” Moon cup sounds like you’ve comibined a Moon Pie and a Reese’s Cup. Wait a minute. That might be tasty.
But Lady Chalice is a perfect name because it complete hides what it really is and really does. A marketers dream! From the people who brought you that “not so fresh feeling” and “facial tissue” for toilet paper comes the “Lady Chalice.”
And that was one of R the Oobee’s saner moments. She was, however, obsessed with her excretia. She would come out and tell people what her poo was doing. I didn’t give a shit what she was doing; I therefore could not have cared what her shit was doing! Did it float? What color was it? SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!!!!
But speaking of menstruation, glad you are doing it. Remember when Bald, Wet, and Slippery had to beg you and beg you to go to the Doctor becuase your period was so painful and you would go for like 5 months off, 5 months flowing? I just remember her begging, “Please, please, please go to the Doctor, Che(censored as to what used to come after Che)! Please go to the Doctor Che(censored!)”
I think we have also discovered what game show can take the place of the wonderful, defunct game show “What’s My Line?”
What’s in My Vagina?
Do you think Dorothy Kilgallen would have told us?
John, is it bigger than a bread box?
John, have we established if this is animal, vegetable, or mineral?
Bald, Wet & Slippery begged me to do a lot of things. Her begging would eventually end in me saying, “Sigh… alright then.”
Her begging me to go to the doctor eventually ended in the same response. “sigh… alright then.”
Which resulted in me being given a prescription for progesterone, which made me very very sick and very very horny. And lets face it, nobody - not even Bald, Wet & Slippery - wants to fuck someone who’s throwing up.
I agree with JtO, vomiting is just wrong.
And you’ve stooped to a new blog-commenting low in discussing R the Oobee’s poo.
I’m so not playing this game.
R the Oobee is nothing but poo! To discuss one is to discuss the other.
Ah, Che! Everybody loves What’s in My Vagina!
Depends on what it is…
If its bigger than a breadbox, and either animal or vegetable, post pics.
Ha ha ha!
If the question was what was in Dorothy Kilgallen’s vagina, then the answer would be bisexual singer Johnny Ray!
There’s nothing like blue humor from the 1950s.
I’m still pondering the moon pie/reese’s cup combo and how I might achieve that. I know it has nothing to do with my or anyone else’s vagina, but the word “pie” has a way of distracting me from any conversational thread.
You’re right, there’s nothing like blue humour from the 50’s. Which is probably a good thing.
I’ve been stuck on the Moon Pie Reese’s cup as well.
You could take apart the halves of a moon pie, carve a hole in the marshmallow and then stick the Reese’s Cup in the hole.
Mmmm.
I like the name Reese’s Pie best. If you know a gal name Reese, it’s double distracting (well, for some)!
Mmmm, graham cracker crust, marshmallow and … peanut butter with a choco-like crust?
Dear lordy, R the P’s description of MPRC is utterly disturbing. I love it!
That is a fine idea. D’ya even have moon-pies up yonder in yankee land?
I remember having you and other friends send me such necessary staples as grits and reese’s cups when I lived in England. So I’d be happy to mail you some moon-pies if you’re deprived.
I had to send you a Stuckey’s Pecan Log, since Pecans were an expensive delicacy in the UK. But we have Moon Pies up here. They tend to call them something else, though.
By the way, if you ever see the brand Tasty Kake, I can tell you two things wrong with that name.
We don’t, however, have RC colas up here, and everyone knows that is what goes with a Moon Pie
JtO reminds me they call them Scooter Pies up here and Whoopie Pies.
And Scooter Pie brings me right back to Dorothy Kilgallen’s vagina!
Yes the British were all horrified yet fascinated by the gooey sweet confectionary delight/abomination of the stuckey’s pecan log. They would complain about the relentless sweetness of the thing, then sneak bits of it into their mouths when I wasn’t looking. Talk about a nation in dire need of a southern american road trip.
Scooter pie! Its round like a moon, its not scooter-shaped.
I used to have a boyfriend whose pet-name was Scooter-poot. Which has nothing to do with anything on this thread (except maybe whats been in my vagina in the past), but Scooter pie reminded me of that.
Scooter poot! I remember that.
What a tangent this has taken!
My grandfather used to buy pecan logs and 5th Avenue candy bars in bulk. And Tab cola. Going to his house every weekend was a joy that I would not dare attempt to repeat now that I’m in my 30s… or not very often, at least.
On that note, I’m going to bed to dream of stuckey’s pecan logs… or is that a nightmare. My mother, my sister, my mother, my sister!!!
It’s my sister, my daughter!
Not my mother my sister. That one would be hard to do, but in the South someone surely has done it!
Oops. Well, SOME people are so high-fallutin’ that they think you should be related to your kin folk only in one way. Snobs.
What a wonderful man. I can’t even imagine the delight of having a stash of pecan logs and 5th avenue bars. Its like a decadent paradise overflowing with forbidden chocolatey, nougatey and pecaney goodness.
And in the rest of my family, it WAS forbidden. I couldn’t have sugar or soda or any of that unless it was for Sunday Dinner. Not with grandfather — he thought that if you wanted something good you go get it whenever you want it. Great man, he was.
Thats Georgians for ya’ JtO, always the most uppity of the southerners. Our way of inbreeding is the only way.
R the P said it earlier: What a tangent this thread has taken.
Yes my grandmother was the same way. If you wanted something nice then dammit (she swore a lot - thats where I got it from) you should oughta git it.
Can I have one ‘a them beers grandma?
Why sure!
What about one a them valium?
Why not? Here take two!
It is now the most commented post. ANd it runs the gammut from Moon Pies to menstrual blood to poo to Chinatown and What’s My Line.
Having met both JtO’s grandfather and Che’s grandmother, I can say they were both wonderful people
I was going to say, this is now the most commented post. Now that we’ve broken some sort of commenting-tangent record, I think its my bedtime as well. I’ll be dreaming of stuckey’s pecan logs too, I’m sure.
Good night all!