I heard recently from a friend that there’s a new trend popular with teenaged girls which involves them soaking tampons in vodka and inserting them into their vaginas. This way, they believe, they’ll get drunker faster.
   
Admittedly, when I heard this, my first reaction was, “Awesome!” This is because I really love when people do crazy shit; the stupider the better.
After some reflection, however, I’ve come to see things in a different light.

How my friend and I got on the topic was by discussion another popular trend called eyeballing which involves ingesting vodka through one’s eye. There was an article about it in the Winnipeg Sun recently. (Not that I read the Sun – a friend showed me!)

I thought this was pretty great at first too. However, unlike with the tampon thing, I still think it’s pretty great. If people want to wreck their eyeballs, fine with me. I’m all for stupid shit like that. Hell, why not inject bourbon directly into your brain?

I say go for it!
But to be given the beautiful gift of a vagina and to squander it so needlessly? Unforgivable.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a huge fan of getting really drunk and making horrible decisions. I do it all the time. I just think that, since there are other perfectly good ways to get drunk (like injecting alcohol between one’s toes, ingesting it through one’s eye, or hell even drinking it), to risk
a perfectly good vagina just to get a buzz on without the calories is just too great a risk.

“ Maybe I’m just old fashioned, but if I had a vagina, I would treat it right.

I can just hear the pro-choicers and the women’s libbers losing it right now. They’re shouting things like, “It’s a woman’s body, so it’s a woman’s right to choose whether or not to shove vodka-soaked tampons into it!” and “Get your opinions off our vaginas … and our vodka!” and “Put some pants on, Jeremy!”

Heck, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just old fashioned, but if I had a vagina, I would treat it right. I would take it out to dinner at fancy restaurants, I would buy it lots of beautiful jewelry and I would listen intently as it complained to me that its best friend bought the same purse it already bought two weeks before, and that its friend totally knew it bought that purse, but just doesn’t care for some reason. Furthermore, I would agree that its friend is a vindictive bitch.
I certainly wouldn’t soak a tampon with vodka and shove it in there.

But I guess this is all a moot point, considering I’m pretty sure I don’t have a vagina. What do I know?

The thought does occur to me, however, that since I’m adopted I can’t really know for sure that I don’t have a vagina unless I do a thorough vagina-check on myself. Well, there’s no time like the present I guess…

Gotta go buy tampons and vodka. Bye!

Depending on what he finds out after he checks himself “down there,” J. Williamez may or may not be staging a run of performances of The Vagina Monologues at this year’s Winnipeg Fringe Festival.

Published in Volume 64, Number 27 of The Uniter (June 30, 2010)