Oh My God It’s Got A Vagina!

November 21, 2018 1:24pm Published by Jules Smith in Whimsy On A Wednesday 28 Comments

Satirical Snapshots Bringing You Whimsy On A Wednesday!

And, as openings go (excuse the pun) that’s the kind of headline that makes you want to read a post!  I’m not trying to be deliberately obtuse; not this time.  I actually heard a very interesting story with that line in it this weekend when I went on a trip to the right Royal Leamington Spa.  

But, before I tell you about that, let’s talk about food.

Eccles Cakes in a packet

These are the horrible cakes I forewarned you of in my last blog post.  I have since been inundated with them because my friends find it amusing to give me things I don’t like.  On that note, I would like to declare that I absolutely loathe Aston Martin’s, luxurious sunny holidays and handmade leather cowboy boots. And, if you’re wondering what I want for Christmas, please see below.

Fortunately, I have been suffering from a nasty stomach ache which left me eating nothing but soup for 5 days along with water and tea.  My God, the days were so loooong in my house that week. I don’t know how these health nuts do it but no solids or alcohol for that long sucks the personality right out of you.  However, I have been notified of a new kind of therapy that knocks meditation right out of the park…

Moo-ve Over Deepak Chopra

Cow Cuddling experience Advert

You’ve gotta take your hat off to the Americans for thinking of any which way in the world to make money out of idiots.  Over here you can walk into a field and hug one for free.  Or tip them up and try not to get a pellet in your arse if the farmer catches sight of you.  

Why on earth would anyone want to pay to hug a cow?  Get married or get a dog. 

Anyway, Talking of Numpties…

I caught myself some bait.  

Many years ago I used to play an online scrabble game. One of my dearest friends asked why I didn’t play it anymore and mentioned that it would be nice if I played with her.  Not wanting to disappoint my pal, I agreed.  

A few days later along came a rogue challenger requesting a game.  My instinct was to decline because we all know this is the reason I stopped playing chess with strangers.   However, having found a sense of calm from recent meditations and too much bloody soup, I decided to take a look.  The person had played a seven letter word that I’d never heard of which piqued my interest and inspired me to take up the challenge.  

NB:  Don’t get a stomach ache as it affects your logic.

Even though my guts were off I should have trusted them because Chatty McChatty started with the tosspot talk and re-lit the fuse within me that had been dampened by the soup.

And this is what he had to say…

It’s was so nice that how could I possibly refuse?

You guest it – my instincts were right on point!

Real engineers who play staggeringly good words in a scrabble game have never heard of a procrastinator.

 

San Fernado is like the Brigadoon to San Fernando.

 

Really?  They have unicorns at San Fernado zoo.  Men of America, take to your rifles and distinguish the beasts!

Whilst I am sorely tempted to reply with, “Does it have a big horn,” I don’t want to encourage anything that might cause me to regurgitate my soup, but, it’s going to be interesting to see where this goes.

These kind of manipulating, cheating, half-witted reprobates really piss me off and I feel it is my duty to torment them.  

Oh My God It’s Got A Vagina” is probably exactly what he’s thinking when he stalks female players online from his kindergarten in India/Nigeria/some dodgy flat in Peckham  cunningly disguised as the fictional San Fernado [sic]- and he’s probably never had a real girlfriend in his life despite being a real engineer with a fake name and a stolen FB profile.  Bell end. 

Anyway, now I’m back on form, I will get back to my initial point in reference to this blog post title. 

The story is about a young girl who decided to roast a chicken for the very first time.  Having never done this before she sought the help of an older, wiser woman on the telephone.  Once they were through the process of unwrapping it from its cellophane and getting it resting on a trivet of vegetables on a baking tray, she asked the woman what to do next. 

“Do you want to stuff it?’ the woman asked.

“I’ve heard that putting a lemon inside makes it tastes nice and I have a lemon!”  the girl enthused.

“OK, well, are it’s legs tied together?”

“Yes.”

“Untie the string, open the legs of the bird and place the lemon just inside in the crevice,” said the woman.

A lot of noise was heard from the other end of the phone as the young girl faffed about with the string. Then there was a moment of shocked silence… followed by a shriek as she parted its legs and cried, “Oh My God It’s Got A Vagina!”

You’ve gotta be thankful for one-liners like that. 

And, on that note, please enjoy your Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow and put that sentence right out of your mind. 

28 Comments

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Isn’t a bird fanny called a cloaca… or something like that? Not sure. Should have paid more attention to David Bellamy.
Anyway, probably wouldn’t have been as funny if you… sorry, the young girl you mentioned, shouted out “Oh my God, It’s got a cloaca… or something like that”.

Sorry about the San Fernado thing… I’ll spell it right next time.

Yes, Masher. Smart arse. But as you rightly point out, it doesn’t have the same ring!

I’ll be waiting for your triple word score “Cloaca”

We don’t “distinguish” unicorns in the USA, we “extinguish” them…with extreme prejudice.

See, I knew it’d be someone like you who spotted and got that!
But, please, LL, when hunting like a wolf, be sure to respect the difference that is the magical unicorn.

Unicorn steaks are delicious and are best when basted in liberal tears while on the BBQ. It’s like sweet iced tea with lemon in it is the very best tea and better when consumed while cooking your unicorn steak. I didn’t make things that way – they just are.

It’s like gravity.

I didn’t make it either.

Science is science.

When a cat is dropped, it always lands on its feet, and when toast is dropped, it always lands buttered side down. Therefore, if a slice of toast is strapped to a cat’s back, buttered side up, and the animal is then dropped, the two opposing forces will cause it to hover, spinning inches above the ground. Take a cat into a skyscraper, strap the buttered toast to its back and toss it off. You can report the results here on your blog. I didn’t create the laws of science, I (like Isaac Newton) observe them.

Whilst not being actually illegal in the UK, tossing off cats is something that we generally frown upon, LL 🙂

Juliette may need to wait until she returns to Texas to run the experiment.

LL, there’s a lot to be said for for your method, not least ANTIGRAVITY. Sorry, Tesla, move over. Then there’s unicorns. As I understand it, White Wolves are their natural predators. That said, beware the horn!

If anyone was going to get the task of tossing cats off you can bet that task will land at my feet. Or not? Maybe it WILL hover!

In the US, the “mangina” means that all women don’t have vaginas anymore. You can ‘self identify’ as any one of 31 genders these days, and please don’t ask me to explain how it works. You can change genders multiple times a day and the world is expected to intuit what you’re doing and accommodate you if you live in a “progressive area”. The White Wolf Mine and the Central Arizona highlands are not progressive and only two genders are recognized there. I realize that your readers will be shocked with our backward ways out here in the Colonies.

But a unicorn is still a unicorn.
“But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked. “Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here.” Is all I have to say to that, LL.

PS: Please leave a safe space open at the WWM for genders 1 and 2 to escape to.

* Vagina is for Lovers, that’s what it said on the bumper sticker

* the Eccles cakes look like pork rinds…but lately all food and drink has looked like pork rinds…

* I started eating soup regularly when I was seven years old. I was an old soul…like I was an old man as a kid

* that’s why I’m not getting better! therapy is too expensive!

* here’s my trick: you say “hey”, they say “hey”, and then you immediately ask for money. like I ask them for 500 bucks for a root canal right off the top, claiming the one Putin did doesn’t count.

* appaphobia: I wish Mark Zuckerberg developed appaphobia.

I had closed all my facebook apps and thought I was feeling fine. but something was still stirring. turns out it wasn’t appaphobia but papaphobia. do you know how scary it is when you’re trying to sleep at 3AM and you get a phone call and it’s the Pope on the other line?

* I blacked out at “lemon” in the chicken story. cos it’s so meta. it was a real lemon in the service of a literary lemon, the part in the story where the sex occurs.

* Happy Thanksgiving, mah dahlin! Gordon Ramsay’s already bathing in the brine bag *)

My sweet, today you can ignore the lemon and progress to digital dining. Put your appophopbia to one side (the Pope has you covered with his zuchetto) and get online and witness the video of Gordon Ramsay’s new pork rind Eccles cake soup. It’s a new kind of eating therapy that sates your appetite through visual stimulation. Mark Zuckerberg is right behind it and Putin is endorsing it in Mos -Cow, feeling it increases oxytocin considerably more than cuddling a cow in America. He’s calling it the Zubnoiy Vratch Patch and hackers across the pond are trying to get a hold on it and failing. Putin is also an old soul despite being a clandestine fan of vulva-centric stories. Happy Thanksgiving! *)

I’ve helped butcher turkeys at my neighbor’s but never had to deal with that end.
Do you do the Thanksgiving there in the home country?

Ah, so you get the gobblers on the table then, Goatman!

No, we do not. Another day at the desk for us lot! However, if it wasn’t for us sailing over and sharing our harvest with the natives there wouldn’t be a Thanksgiving holiday so, you’re welcome. Please raise a glass in my honour! 😉
Happy Thanksgiving, my friend.

That was a great post and I especially enjoyed the veg trivet aspect, important in a roast. But I’m confused.
You seem to identify women with biology, with the v**ina. Really? So you’re literally Hitler? Boosting cisgender biological oppression across the patriarchal binary stereotype? Brazen.
Report yourself, immediately.

It’s very important in a roast, LSP! One needs a proper gravy base!

I’m terribly sorry. Old habits die hard. I’m going shopping today for a strap-on so I can get with the progressive movement and see if I can’t create a new gender. But first, I will flagellate myself for daring to be so tunnel-visioned and archaic. Maybe I won’t be so brazen thereafter…or maybe I’ll be worse?! ;P

This conversation is beyond my level.
Thank God.

Who are you and what have you done with my snarky friend Terry?

What are you on about, mucker? Whilst the conversation on here degenerates quickly I know it’s right up your street cos you didn’t have to get your Urban Dic out or nuffin’! So there! ;P

Normally you would be correct, My Dear Crowned Julesy.
But since my lobotomy, things have been different…..https://youtu.be/wpYA3GMlKsA

I’m totally with you, mucker!

Get ready for a lot of spam and searches for ‘vagina.’ Hope you can handle the increased traffic.

I do not know how to pronounce ‘eccles’. Nor do I know how they taste. Are they anything like vaginas?

Cow cuddling is what happens when you’ve got too much money but still aren’t happy. Cuddling a cow isn’t going to help. Look within.

Don’t tell me you celebrate Thanksgiving in the UK. You must be in Texas, yes?

I get spam left, right and centre. Currently have people demanding bitcoin orthey’ll make shit up about me. Certainly makes my life look far more interesting is what I say!

Eccles pronunciation phonetically: ECK – ULS. There ya go! Now leave well alone because they’re nasty.

Is that really a thing? Having too much money and not being happy? Cos I’m prepared to take the risk!
We don’t celebrate it here, no, which is where I am. I just wanted to make sure y’all had a nice turkey dinner. 🙂

No solids or alcohol AND mess anger… Say it ain’t so, Jules. Hope you’re feeling better now. Nothing can suck the personality out of you. I know that much.

Blue

Blue!

It is so. What a weary week it’s been, my loveable friend.

They try and beat me down but there’s a lot of humour on the dark side!

Hope you’re doing well you fabulous devil, you! X

No complaints, it being Saturday and all. Tell me when you’re ready for that long-awaited drink.

I was worried but you escaped the #oppression. Well done!
And what’s with Brexit? Is May a TRAITOR?!?
Let’s stand up and end their NWO garbage. We go where we want. #5w

Teresa Maybe is really getting on my nerves. I’m so sick to death of Brexit I daren’t turn the telly on. I don’t even know what’s going on anymore – nobody does. Not even her own cabinet! They were interviewing people on the streets yesterday and the disdain is palpable.

But, there’s always magical unicorns 🙂

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