Furry Mimis.

Most girls seem to have a pseudonym for one’s vagina. I’ve heard everything from china cabinet, whispering eye, vajayjay (thanks Oprah), snatch, quim, poon, nether regions, and the dreaded p*word (yes, I mean pussy) among many other bland, odd or just plain immature names. I mean some can’t even muster the balls to just say the name of it, it’s like Voldemort is down there so they just refer to “my downstairs”. Puh-lease.

For me? My mama named this area the mimi. I always thought this was a pretty solid name for a vagina until I realized how many fucking Aunt and Grandma Mimis are out there! I mean seriously, it seems like everyone has a Grandma Mimi in the house (or in their pants at least). As the mature child I was, I refused to go to Mimi’s Cafe as it really read “Vagina’s Cafe” in my mind and who the heck wants to eat at someone’s vagina (unless you’re a dude and into that, then you should call me). But truthfully, I don’t think I was really missing out at Mimi’s Cafe…

There are so many lengths chicks go through to NOT hook up with someone. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard, “I cannot be a slut tonight, I purposely didn’t shave my vagina tonight. That’ll sure stop me” (or other synonymous statements) and you know what- it doesn’t work. I was dating a guy for a few weeks and I wanted to do this the “proper” way and wait a bit to sleep with him. So after two weeks, we were on our fifth date and I thought I wanted to wait just one more until we went all the way. So you know what I did? It’s more what I didn’t do- I did not landscape my mimi because I was sure this would stop me whether I was sober or drugged. There was no way my first time with this guy was going to be with a furry mimi. And then it was.

Girls are not much different from guys. When the mood strikes, you succumb and it wouldn’t even matter if there was a gnome down there or god forbid you had vagina dentata. If you want to have sex, you are going to have sex. Just last week my roommate told me she didn’t shave so she wouldn’t slut it up. Later on I caught her asking this dude to stay the night. And it would have happened had we not been sleeping on the couch at some random’s house- I mean the location didn’t stop her, why would a furry mimi?

The biggest reoccurring question that comes up between girls is, do guys care if it’s furry down there? You know what, I have no clue. I think they are the same as girls as in, if they want to have sex with you, they are going to have sex with you regardless of the condition down there- I just wouldn’t necessarily expect him to go down on you. I’m sure some guys love it, some hate it and some are completely neutral.

Recently I read an article where Cameron Diaz urged girls to keep the drapes. First of all, this makes me gag referring to pubic hair as drapes, as if it’s the nasty vines that led you to the secret garden. She also tells gals not to do laser hair removal down there as it’s permanent and vagina trends will change. Well Cam, I just signed up for laser hair removal and if my (fictitious) man wants “drapes” down there, he can go buy a real cool toupee, maybe one with glitter in it. I can buy my way right back into the trends if I suddenly crave hair again.

But newsflash, I keep it bare down there for me, not for some potential dude. So if you have a bush and your guy hates it, fuck him. If he wants to pay the insanely expensive dues for waxing and laser hair removal, maybe y’all can talk but if he’s not willing to pay for it, he has no gateway for an opinion.

Gals do whatever you want to that mimi of yours. Vajazzle it, color it pink, shape it like one of the Jersey Shore characters- whatever floats that odd lil vulva boat of yours.

(Drunk) Stalk Me.

So you met a girl and you exchanged names? Boy, this girl probably already knows where you went to school, what your ex-girlfriends look like, if you have any mutual friends, who your parents are, where you’re from, etc. among many other personal pieces of information. If you shared all the above with her, great and probably way too soon to be doing that, but no judgments. But odds are, you probably only told her your name and possibly where you went to college. The culprit for why she knows so much about you? Facebook and the utter lack for spontaneity, mystery and the fun of getting to know someone. Facebook is more and more utilized for discovering a wealth of information about people you don’t actually know.

I’ll admit it, the minute I know a new guy’s name, I look him up on Facebook. I want photographic proof that he’s as cute (hopefully even more attractive) than my drunk eyes led me to believe. My drunk eyes are pretty darn bad though and majority of these encounters, where I’m convinced I just made out with Taylor Kitch’s twin, turns into a skinny, creepy, hard on the eyes dude that lives in a trailer park. So Facebook is more of a safety precaution for me.

I’ve had a few guys I’ve met before where we had a mutually blacked out encounter, resulting in texting and multiple questions like, “what do you look like?”. Dude, just look me up on Facebook. How is this not your first instinct when you’re talking to some chick that could possibly look like John Travolta or maybe (far reach) Miranda Kerr? You should know what you’re getting yourself into. I personally will only continue these random communications if I am certain I am ghost texting a real babe and that has only occurred once, thanks to Facebook for the confirmation.

And if your privacy settings are real strict for public viewers and if you get a friend request from a random girl you don’t know, it’s probably her friend. Just saying.

Girls these days are going to research you, hard. But guys, I’m a little confused how you’re so slow to the ball? If you want to know more about a mystery gal, it’s a lot easier to stalk her and find out then asking ambiguous questions about her characteristics.

I don’t believe in Facebook stalking when you meet a guy organically. It’s so rare to meet a guy that way these days (or maybe I just have issues) that it’s fun to learn about each other with every encounter. But if I meet a guy at a bar and/or drunk (which seems to be me 97% of the time), I am looking to the book for a little background.

Baby Wiggers.

When I first brought this topic up in college, I believe my friends thought I was joking or had too many cheap vodka shots (most likely of the Albertsons brand, Heritage). I had one friend who understood my thoughts as she has the passion and keen aptitude to appreciate all things a bit off the grid. But regardless of one person appreciating my thought or thousands, the fact still remains- there are people out there wigging their bald babies.

Fact: many babies are bald and the world accepts it. Have you ever had the less than warm encounter where you comment on how cute a baby is and call the she a he? Well if you haven’t, let me share the thoughts of the parent…”Ah, HELL NO!” Granted sometimes it doesn’t come off as dramatic as it reads, but the bottom line is that they are offended. And here is where the parents entertain the idea of only dressing a baby girl in pink, piercing their ears and….wigging their babies.

In my opinion, wigging a baby is a no-go. Are babies cute and fascinating in wigs? Duh, they’re babies! But babies are weird enough as is being creepy little miniature humans that result from the act of sex (or fancy science technology) and grow in our stomachs, why make them even more bizarre and throw ourselves into a state of mental uncertainty? Now don’t get me wrong, I am all for wigging babies in the appropriate setting. For example, play dates or Halloween. But let’s be serious, if babies are being wigged at a play date, mommy is taking the reigns and making it her play date. So that only leaves Halloween as the appropriate setting for wigged babies. Personally, I cannot wait to have a baby to create my very own lil Einstein or Little Mermaid.  And if at some point in time it ever becomes morally acceptable to dress your baby up as a serial killer, I will be putting a SAW mask on my baby and sticking him on a red tricycle. Though I must face reality and realize that if it becomes acceptable to dress a baby up as a serial killer, our world has really gone off the rocker.

It’s like when you mistake someone’s dog or cat for a female when it’s a male and the owner appears insulted. Do these pet parents really expect me to do an awkward undercarriage check before making a brief passing comment about their pet? No! I have more important things to do, like blog about wigged babies. Embrace your babies baldness because when they turn three and are all over the map with sticky substances, you’re gonna wish they were bald. And so what if someone calls your cute baby a boy when it’s a girl, they’re still calling your little creation cute. And trust me, not all babies are cute, regardless of what the masses say.