Disclaimer: I don’t want you to be confused by the title. My vagina does NOT walk on it’s own. I accompany it everywhere it goes like a good mother that I am.
Disclaimer Number 2: I don’t usually refer to my vagina as a child. I have no idea why I did that in the first disclaimer.
Some things are just learned by living through them. For example today I learned that you should probably never wear khaki pants without underwear. Sometimes when you wear khakis without underwear and you walk a mile to the local grocery store in the bright summer sun you think “this is such a nice day to walk and get groceries!” Then after you get your greek yogurt and check out you realize there is a torrential down pour going on outside and you have no idea where it came from.
Being who you are you say “fuck it, I’ll walk back anyway.” Then half way home you realize you are drenched and you are giving the entire city of Portland your own version of a wet t-shirt contest but you’ve replaced the t-shirt with pants and the breasts with your baby cave.
I had been calling it the Wet Vagina Contest but the I realized that sounded like some sort of yearly awards show they would do in Hustler and my bare all moment wasn’t quite so graphic. I do whoever think I scared the guy standing on his front porch watching me walk by when I yelled “I just wanted some greek fucking yogurt!!” While the lightening was flashing around me and buckets of water were being dumped down my face. Sorry to you Mr. Porch Man. Let’s just hope that my mistakes can be a warning for the rest of you. Don’t war khakis without underwear. Or you can ignore my advice. I’m probably going to.