These days, it seems as if there’s a never ending supply of headlines about men misunderstanding women’s bodies. Conservative politicians want to take away our right to choose, and just recently, a study in Canada revealed something that women have known for a very long time–mammograms are practically useless in terms of preventing terminal cancer.
All around the world, women are letting out a knowing and disappointed sigh. It took a 25 year case study to reveal something that we have been saying the whole time. Once again, the medical community and the patriarchy has put women’s voices in the backseat and let popular opinion dictate the approach to our health.
Let me let you fellas in on a little secret: women don’t get mammograms to prevent breast cancer, we get them because it feels good to have our titties played with by a machine. It’s just that simple. Slapping my tits up there on that waffle iron and having them squeezed like an empty Gogurt is the best, if not only, thing I can feel anymore. Personally, I like to imagine I’m engaging in foreplay with a robot with a recently installed emotion chip who is learning how to love.
You see, mammograms are just another aspect of female sexuality that the patriarchy has tried to control through medicine. It’s been like this for a long time.
In the late nineteenth century, women were prone to hysteria. Usually it would result from an overwhelming exposure to the specific workings of mathematics or politics, at which point a lady would affect a malaise, grow weak, and catch vapors on a chaise lounge. Repeated incidents were often treated with a prescription of physical therapy–but not the kind of physical therapy we have today. Hysterical women were put on a strict regimen of orgasms, all of which were brought about by their general practitioner.
Once or twice a week, a woman would visit her doctor, who would then lift up her skirt and play with her genitals until she came. This was medical science. Female orgasms were not seen as sexual so much as they were necessary instruments used to control natural female irrationality.
Unfortunately for the doctors, the female orgasm was brand new, and often difficult to produce. Many physicians died from complications of rheumatic fannywrist, an excruciating disease resulting from nitrogen bubbles in the carpals. It wasn’t long before someone developed a solution–the vibrator. The first vibrators were medical tools designed for the specific purpose of alleviating wrist pain in doctors and assisting with the fingering and touching-off of female patients.
Society progressed, we took steps toward sexual liberation, and the vibrators left the doctor’s office and became a staple of the American household during the appliance age. In the 1950s, every homemaker needed a microwave, a dishwasher, and a huge black cock that lit up and had several different speed settings. But for some reason, the importation of medical tools to the homestead stopped there. Seventy years later, we still have the same basic vibrators.
What I’m saying is, they should just give us the mammogram machines so we can use them at home to get off–and while we’re at it, give us the abortion stuff too.
Just like mammograms–there’s this pervasive myth in conservative media that abortions are somehow depressing or uncomfortable for women. That’s complete horseshit and the lies need to stop. It’s my body and I think I’m perfectly capable of deciding what feels good or not.
Now, I don’t want to say that just because abortions feel good for me, that that’s the case for all women. Like yoga or coffee enemas, abortions aren’t for everybody. It is most certainly an acquired taste, but let me tell you, once you learn how to accept yourself and really relax, it feels amazing.
I cum really hard when I get an abortion, and it’s not just because I’m killing a baby. There’s actually nerve centers in the back of the uterus that can’t be stimulated through regular intercourse. The only way to achieve that kind of orgasm is to visit a clinic, and have my V speculated and scooped out like the bottom of a Ben & Jerry’s pint on “me night.” It’s dangerous but liberating, like the adrenaline rush from base jumping or Snapchatting nudes to a coworker.
Again though, unfortunately, abortions are still seen as serious medical procedures, and not something that should be put into the hands of women themselves. We’re made to feel shame for getting abortions and often made to feel even worse for having orgasms during the procedure. Let me ask you this: if it was wrong and unnatural, why am I squirting?
Honestly, I’m getting really sick and fucking tired of having to explain my sexuality to people. For starters, it’s none of your business, and if you really have to know, check my blog or my Facebook. All of the information about my sex life is on there. I don’t owe an explanation to anyone.
Abortions need to stop being viewed as something women need to apologize for. Sexuality, and all of its kinks, are something to embrace. They’re something to celebrate and applaud. Let’s make a concerted effort to let right wingers know that abortions are more than just a medical or economic necessity. Let’s stop apologizing, and let’s abort the idea that terminating a pregnancy is anything other than a fun, sexy activity for consenting adults.