"Vaginal and Body Secretions of the East", my thoughts often turn to how fine
the women are and how they smell. And then I don't feel like eating dinner,
what the hell.
In my day I've smelled fishy cunts, skunky cunts, yeasty cunts, pissy
cunts, sweaty cunts...too many cunts, probably. I've inhaled membrane-withering
lungfuls of toxic twatfumes from vaginas that looked like rats dipped in
Vaseline. I've borne witness to a stomach-pumping surfeit of swollen, bloody,
scabby, mucus-spewing snatches. Too much oozing, malodorous cunt caviar, too
many hairy hornet's nests of chickstink. And yet the self-appointed voices of
reason assure me that "once you get past the smell, you've got it
licked." How the fuck do you get past the smell?
Although the estrus-crazed arbiters of politeness would have
us believe it's only a misogynistic myth, the existence of rank-smelling
females seems to be a staple of all cultures' folklore. Most world
religions-and rightly so-espouse some notion of women as "unclean."
When angered, a foul-mouthed Chinaman is likely to yelp, "Tiu nia ma chow
hai!" ("Fuck your mom's smelly cunt!") at anyone within earshot
of his eggroll stand. Reflecting the same sort of vaginal ageism, the French
have observed, "Les conasses des femmes âgeé avez une odeur
mauvaise." ("Old ladies' cunts stink.")
And though it's not considered polite conversation amid
mixed company, most of us are aware of the distasteful folkloric scuttlebutt
surrounding repugnant vaginal aromas. As
a child, you most likely heard the cruel schoolyard jibes about "hot
tuna." You've probably also groaned at the juvenile proverb which states
that there are two things in this world that smell like fish, one of them being
fish. You may have even encountered the puerile poem about the "seven wise
men" who created the vagina: "Fifth was a fisherman, nasty as hell/He
threw in a fish and gave it a smell." Even pudendal pseudonyms such as
"the bearded oyster" hint at some level of olfactory displeasure.
From what I've been told, some men actually like the smell.
Some men enjoy watching their corn-kerneled shit swirl down the toilet,
too. Some men like having their scrotal
sacs nailed to sheetrock-what's your point?
Ooh, that smell. The first thing you're likely to sniff in this wretched
life is a deep, sobbing lungful of your mother's afterbirth, yet that memory is
usually too distant and traumatic to ever have a hope of salvaging. But after one passes the Age of Reason, you
aren't likely to forget the full-frontal face-slap of a rancid pussy, even
after extensive psychotherapy. And, if you're like me, your first indelible
whiff of it came via an older friend's manual digit in the eternal tradition of
"Hey, man, smell my finger." Now isn’t that some stinky shit.
But perhaps the worst pussy I ever had the displeasure of
smelling was attached to an alarmingly overweight woman of South central, extraction with whom I shacked
up during a period when my self-esteem was dangerously low. Once you got past
the rolls and rolls of stretchmarked hog fat, there lay her bedraggled pussy,
crowned with a sparse reddish thorn bush. Her cunt looked like a fat slice of
ham swimming in white gravy. Her crotch was a boiling fumarole of noxious
emissions, a stinking puddle of snatch-slop. Her discharges were colored a
sickly silver, with the gloppy consistency of herring sauce. The smells which
emerged from between her bloated, floppy legs ranged from rotted onion to burnt
crab to odors which were so fetid, I must force myself to stop thinking of them
lest I scream. But I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea. It's not my
intent to have you believe that ALL women stink. No, I've encountered clean cunts before.
In fact, I'm married to one.
Almost a decade ago, the skanky pussies disappeared into my nightmares
like the cheap R Rated-movie monsters they were. I met a woman of Hebraic ancestry
whose nether regions bore no stomach-souring smells. I promptly wed her. Ten
years of fish-free connubial bliss. Our secret to a successful marriage? No
vaginal odor. Her cunt smells about the same as my wrist-not at all. She was
born with the Unscented brand of pussy. The li'l Jewgirl's got good bacteria.
I'm blessed.
But, being the civic-minded feller I am, I started to worry
about the other pussies-the less-fortunate ones. What about them? Why do some
gals stink, while others remain odor--free--free, indeed, to laugh, to love, to
cuddle?
I'm a man who sees a problem with Pussies across America--a man
who wants to fix the issues with women’s for the many men they will share their
lil beavers with over their lifetime. My purpose isn't to offend the few
clean-smelling women out there with the crude suggestion that EVERY vagina in
the USA gushes with foul, gelatinous, swordfishlike discharges.
Only far too many of them,
I do feel, way down in my nose hairs, that this country faces a Cunt
Crisis: Our streets are littered with good girls-honest girls-walking around
smelling like octopii. Vaginal odor ruins romance and fosters much distrust
between the sexes. Few things dampen an amorous male's affection more than the
rank, odiferous stench of a woman who has degraded herself through poor
hygienic practices. Many bright, well-meaning gals have seen their love lives
dashed to pieces because their genitals' pungency suggested unhealthful habits
and debauchery. Can these women be saved? Sure, but first they must be
scrubbed. And disinfected. And schooled in methods of blunting their natural
offensiveness.
To understand vaginal odor, you must
first understand the vagina itself. The foul truth is that every woman carries
a potential stink-bomb between her legs.
Now check your Pussy if you smell it then you should think why do I stink?
