Thursday, March 22, 2007

My Brain, the Gynecologist

I think about my brain a lot, which is truly giving meaning to the phrase functional organ, because it is one that can think about itself. My liver can't do that. Of course, it can clean itself out when I've drank too much and produce factor-8 to keep itself from bleeding to death, so it's successful in serving it's own purpose. This proves my theory that even though our organs are here to serve us as a whole, they are not in fact, entirely altruistic. In that, I digress.

The other day I was thinking about how strange it is, the female anatomy, and why there's so much skin down there. It's like a whole bunch there. Now that my genitals have been defrocked, there is little to be left to the imagination. It's almost irritating how I don't have to guess anything anymore. Like, I kinda miss sitting there thinking I wonder what my vulva is doing right now. Maybe she's getting a nose job like I said she should. Naaaaah. She never listens. And the other day I actually caught my labia scheming to rob the Washington Mutual Bank on west 11th street! I had to put the kibosh on that. I was so exhausted exposing their conspiratorial plan that I had to go outside and take a nap under my car. I should be thankful, because before the grass was mowed, I wouldn't have had any idea as to what those two were up to. Thank me please, you grateful WaMu customers.