What is the best weapon to carry to deal with homeless men yelling things about my vagina?
Question submitted by callmebez:
Hold your horses, young lady. There are some options to consider before arming yourself.
First, what does Pierre (the name I give all homeless men) yell at you, exactly? Is it something like, “Lo, how many gentle fellows hath ridden in milady’s love ring the fortnight last?”
If it is, then this educated scamp may have once been a gynecologist. Far-fetched, you say? Well, a year ago, Pierre may have been up to his eyebrows in lady-parts, frisbee golf, and Porsche-designed sex pillows. However, thanks to the corrupt financial industry, box wine, and the Psionic War between Scientologists and Narco-Industrial test monkeys, the medical community has been kicked in the teeth. At least that’s how Pierre, the other homeless guy I bum smokes off of during my lunch break, explains it to me. So, before you brandish that Turkish saber, you might show Pierre a little compassion. Maybe even a phone number, because, he’s a DOCTOR for Christ’s sake. You never know.
Second, you must also consider the possibility that your vagina possesses magical powers and is capable of relaying phantasmagorical messages. Pierre, another homeless guy who picks up a copy of Modern Bride for me at Borders because I’m not allowed inside there any more, swears that his brain picks up sensory information normal humans can’t comprehend. Again, I know it sounds far-fetched, but maybe your lady-meadow is a special one and Pierre and other gatekeepers of the supernatural are helpless in it’s musty authority. So, the next time Pierre yells about your nethers, ask yourself, “What is my vagina trying to tell me? What does my vagina need? A sandwich?”
Remember, keep an open mind, put down your Scottish broadsword and listen for the clues, even though it probably wants a sandwich.
I’ve got to run. These Modern Bride scrapbooks aren’t going to assemble themselves.
