Fuck OFF!! You Prick… I’m riding the Crimson Wave!!

September 13, 2008 at 12:01 am · Filed under Assclowns, Bitch, Boobs!, Cast & Crew!, Comediennes, Commie Bastards, Educational, Feedback, Hack THIS !!, History, Humor Me, Lifes' like That, LOW Tech, Mother's Day, Musings™, Poetry, Rantz, Religion, Sexuality, Suggestions, Venusian and tagged: Bloodclot, Bloodcloth Mon, Crimson Wave, On the rag

Nothing brings me greater joy than… well, ALMOST nothing brings me greater joy than to see the awkward expression of some squeamish asshole’s face when at the supermarket, I throw down an industrial sized box of extra heavy-duty, super duper-plus absorbency tampons in front of him at that check-out lane.

I really like how most men avoid eye contact with me when they take notice of my purchase. Male cashiers are even more humorous. I wait with bated breath for the day to come when a male cashier gently grasps Pandora’s box with a pair of indestructible tongs so he may safely glide my box of filthy tampons over the scanner. I suppose he would accept my cash payment via the tongs, as he would not wish to contaminate himself with my abhorring femininity.

Over the course of eleventy years, women have had to suffer through the stupidity of not only men, but of society, in regards to the crimson wave. Historically, menstruating women have been reputed with misgivings and straight up fear. In many societies, they were barred from not only significant ritual events, but mundane tasks of everyday life, such as food preparation. If not fully prohibited, contact with these foul beings was strictly limited. In extreme cases of retardedness, some societies completely isolated women during their “moon days” until they were deemed suitable for the company of others.

“On the approach of a woman in this state [menstrual], must will become sour, seeds…sterile, grafts wither away, garden plants are parched up, and the fruit will fall from the tree…

Her very look, even, will dim the brightness of mirrors, blunt…steel, and take away the polish from ivory. A swarm of bees, if looked upon by her, will die.”
~Pliny, Natural History, A.D. 77

It wasn’t until the mid-1800’s that a doctor named Gendrin suggested that ovulation controlled menstruation. In previous years, it was largely believed that the unexplainable bleeding of an otherwise healthy appearing member of society was an ill omen of calamity at worst. I wonder if these fuckheads were ever curious as to why women bled from their va-jayjays each month, while men remained free of leaking hemoglobin from their devil tools? In 1871, it became clearer that menstruation is the result of the failure to conceive.

Prior to that, physicians thought perhaps that the bleeding had something to do with the disposal of superfluous blood, possibly to cool a heightened emotional state. Bah-hahahahaha! Although most societies have long since discarded the idea that menstruating women are foul freaks of nature, many superstitions still exist, such as:

* If a crimson surfer washes her hair, it will not hold a curl. Her hair will instead, fall limp.

* Bread making will fail because the dough will refuse to rise.

* A girl enduring the Scourge of Eve must not be permitted to churn butter because…hahaha…because the butter will not “come.” Bah-hahahahaha!

* A menstruating female should not tag along with the hunting party, for the scent of her blood will frighten off the game.

* Touching fruit trees will result in the spoilage of fruit.

* A girl on the rag shouldn’t FUCK.

In all fairness, not all associations with blood were/are negative. Blood, in some cultures, was used as a potent ingredient for love potion. A drop or two…or twelve secreted in a man’s food or drink was said to bind him forever to donor. This fucked up form of match maker proved of course, to be a complete and utter failure. What is proven, however, is that fucking the red snapper can help alleviate a woman’s menstrual cramps. It’s true. I can’t make this shit up!

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