Ow, I'm bleeding!
I don't think the eggs are getting released in my ovaries, I think they've got guns and there's a massacre going on in there. I look like a right-to-life ad. Just snap my picture and hold it up at a Planned Parenthood. Only please not while I'm there getting birth control, that would be embarrassing. Ever notice that the shut-up-and-have-babies people and the get-the-fuck-out-of-my-body people tend to use the same images in their shock and awe campaigns?
Hey Eve? If what they say was true, fuck you, you cunt. I'm an apple lover myself and I'm big on acquiring knowledge, but I still don't understand why my poor vagina, who never hurt anybody, has to turn from this pretty little curtained seashell into a bloody, ugly monkey hole for a week out of every month just because you HAD to have cobbler.
Don't tell me my period is beautiful. There's nothing beautiful about red paint in my drawers. If my period was made of that clear, pretty blue liquid they always show in Kotex commercials, maybe that would be beautiful.
And it hurts too. I don't know what good can possibly come of my uterus trying to eat me like some sort of alien invader, but if it manages to pop out and run off, I'm going to blow it away with a machine gun like Sigorney Weaver. You better believe it baby. Ka-BOOM.