Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Crotchfruit

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I ran into an old friend today. By "old" I don't mean aged and rickety, just that I've known her for a while. Actually she could totally use some botox and a little plumping, but the point is that she told me she was "expecting." Expecting what? I had no idea what she was talking about. Maybe it's because she's always been a lil' thick and had cankles, so I couldn't tell she was four months pregnant. After an awkward pause and a realization on my part, I tried to figure out what to say. "Um, congrats on accomplishing what thousands of unwed teenage badgirls do every year?" Or maybe, "Ooooh, I'm sorry. Will you be going to a doctor to take care of it or the good old-fashioned method of throwing yourself down the stairs? I myself am a traditionalist." Then she felt the need to tell me that it happened on their first try. Thanks. I really needed to know that, Fertile Myrtle. I said, "you know what that makes me think of? Your vagina. You know what I hate thinking about. . . your. . . vagina." I think I ruined her day. Anyway, she's expecting twatvomit in May. I'm expecting her to scream, cry, and shit the bed.

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