Seeking the answers, part 1: Open up for the choo-choo!

I've stumbled upon an Internet goldmine. At first glance, it appeared to be some kind of "Yahoo! Answers" for refined, cultured types. A site where erudite, sophisticated people come together to seek the answers to life's most meaningful questions.

Questions like, "WHAT IS A CERVIX AGEEN I CRNT BELIEVE I FORGOT LOOL"

Looling indeed, m'lady! You forgot ageen? I daresay, you'd lose your head if it weren't attached.

After thoroughly perusing this treasury of queries and responses, I feel I have come away enlightened and with a greater sense of self-awareness and inner peace. Allow me to share with you some of the finer points of this site...

One inquisitive young woman wonders:

"How to stop queefing?"

and a young gentleman comes to her aid with a prompt reply:

"Making a girl queef, to a guy, is just a sign that you're really hiding it up good. If you've never made a girl queef, you're not doing it right. Also, the more aroused a girl gets, the more predictable she is to queef, so it's only a bad point if you don't know what it is."

If you've never made a girl queef, you're not doing it right. Are you taking notes, men?

Another young woman wonders:

"What chemicals could be put within panties to tighten up loose flaps?"

and receives her answer: "Aluminum."

Aluminum! Who knew! There is no reason to ever visit a doctor again! What use is medicine and science when we've got all the answers we need right here at this virtual oracle of sound advice? Get lost, physicians, we've got it covered!

Another woman is desperate for help:

"God, i need some good comebacks for those boobless attacks.? people r constantly teasing me and my friend about being flatcheasted (she's more flat that me so she get's tham more often. this is 4 her. well...sorta lol, me 2) I don;t kknow weather to laugh or be angry or... idk. COMEBACKS?"

Well, young lady, you have come to the right place. Let's see what cutting witticisms your fellow scholars have devised for your retorts.

"like, at lease my boobs arent so big that I can;t see my toes!" 

Zing!

"do you need a life jacket when you have one attached?" 

Oooh, count it!

"who needs a car with air bags?" 

Absolutely nobody, that's who.

"when you run do you smack yourself in the face?" 

Lool!

"at least i can find bathing suits in my size" 

Up top, girlfriend!

"less fun on top equals more fun on the bottom" 

It's true, do the math!

"at least they dont flat in the wind when i run" 

No flatting in the wind for you!

"If its a guy, just say, they are probably bigger than your dick!" 

Um...*confused face*...yes.

"At least i wont have back pains from those two tvs on your chest" 

TVs! How creative! Televisions are indeed large and bulky, like breasts, it's true.

So clever! I can't just stand back as a participant. I must step in and humbly propose my submissions for boobless comebacks:

"I'm rubber you're glue, your TV breasts flat in the wind like big floppy dicks."

Oh, heavens. This is harder than it looks. How about:

"Your large breasts are garbage breasts!"

Well, lesson learned. Leave the advice-giving to the experts.

Lastly, it appears even the most refined intellectuals seek sexual advice from time to time. It's quite possible they're more like us than we realize:

"Is it bleak to put a toy up your Virgina?"

"Depends, probably not if the toy is a train set or something big with a lot of moving metal parts."

Are you in need of some good advice? Start here: Go, learn, grow. 

Why Jeff Bridges is not helpful during an anal leakage crisis

Do you know that, to this day, I've never seen The Big Lebowski in its entirety? I know, I know, you guys are all like WHAT?? SACRILEGE!!

I did intend to see it once. I even saw the beginning of it when it was out in theaters, on a date with a boy a few years back. But I had to leave 20 minutes into it when warm yellow oil started pouring out of my asshole.

Hahaha! *Shakes head* Classic Becky. *Sigh.*

So I'm sitting there next to my date in the theater, holding his penis his hand, when I lean forward to adjust myself in my seat and I feel a cold draft against my tush, and OMG do you love how I said tush just then? POW! Fancy manners explosion IN YOUR FACE!! *jerking off motion, throws pretend ejaculate in your eyes*

So I feel a draft, and reach back to check it out, performing that whole "smoothing out your butt" routine that girls do when they're actually checking for their period, and I feel wetness, but SO much wetness that I know it couldn't possibly have come from me, because I hardly ever pee my pants while I'm conscious.

"Hey, you know what?" I whisper to my date. "I sat in something, I think."

"Oh, shit, really? Lemme feel your seat." He reaches down and brushes his palm over my seat cushion. "Yeah, it's wet. *sniff, sniff* I think it's popcorn butter."

"I'll be back in a sec," I whisper, and run to the bathroom.

I pull down my pants and sit down on the toilet. Yep, whatever it was had soaked through my pants and onto my panties. And yep, it's bright yellow. Popcorn butter. Great.

I reach back with some toilet paper to see if there's any still on me, and the toilet paper comes back bright yellow. I'm soaked. When I stand up to collect paper towels to wring out my pants, I notice that the toilet water is also bright yellow. "That's strange," I wonder. "It was clear when I sat down." Something is not right.

I bend down to check out the yellow toilet water, and notice that the light is not reflecting off the surface of the water normally. The surface of the toilet water seems dull and matte, rather than glassy.

I toss my wadded up toilet paper into the bowl, expecting ripples. What happens instead is that the tissue lands on the surface of the toilet water, and within seconds, what I thought was yellow toilet water begins to crack and fissure like an iceberg, revealing clear water underneath.

I sit there, staring at the yellow shards of waxy yellow substance bobbing in the toilet water, and decide that whoever had used the toilet before me had better get herself checked out quick, poor thing!

I look down at my underwear. Bright yellow.

I look at the toilet paper. Bright yellow.

The waxy shards of cooled, solidified oil floating in the toilet bowl. Heh. Gross. Not mine.

The smell of stale popcorn butter. Heh. Some people are gross. Not me though. Heh.

Can you believe the nerve of some people, pouring popcorn butter on movie theater seats, for other people to go sit on? Haha, real funny, guys. Nice job! Time slows down. Flashing montage of images...the toilet paper...my underwear...the toilet bowl...Jeff Bridges slow-motion laughing in my face... Nice job, pouring it in my underpants and all over my lady parts. Ha! Oh my God it's starting to make sense now. Nice work, strangers who aren't me, pouring popcorn butter all down my thighs! Oh mother of God, no. Oh, look, you're still at it, pranksters, aren't you? Because it's still dripping down my legs! I'm dying. Liquified organs leaking out my fufu. You people and your hijinks! Denial denial denial...

*pants up, zipped*
*sweatshirt around waist*
*flush broken waxy shards down the toilet*
*dry heave...dry heave...*
*wet paper towel on forehead*
*pay phone call to roommate*
*shaky shaky hands, please come get me*

"Psst," I tap my date on the shoulder. "I'm gonna go. You stay here though."

"What? Why? Where you going?"

"I'm gonna go to the doctor. I broke something, my lady parts exploded. I think my uterus ruptured, or my eggs cracked. I don't know. I'm in trouble though. Please don't follow me."

"The Dude abides," says movie screen Jeff Bridges, all relaxed on account of his not having any hot waxy oil pouring out any of his orifices.

*middle finger* says my hand to Jeff Bridges, because I fear hippie types in times of crisis.

Twenty minutes later, I've got my legs up in stirrups and a gynecologist's head between my thighs.

Gyno: I can't find anything. I can't imagine what that was! Hot waxy oil, you say?

Me: I think I had a miscarriage. *starts to cry*

Gyno: But...was there blood? Was there any pain?

Me: No, it must have been pretty early along. *sniffle* It must have been, like, at the yolk stage still.

Gyno: Um...yes, the yolk stage. Remind me to give you some educational pamphlets before you leave.

Me: Maybe it was my placenta. My water broke. My hot sack of baby wax.

Gyno: Seriously. Did you not take health in high school?

Me: My embryonic butter baby.

Gyno: Have you considered that it may have come from your anus? Not your vagina?

Me: Um, no, I didn't consider that, because nothing exits that hole without permits. That hole is my bitch. I've got that hole wrapped around my finger, so to speak. It's the other hole that gives me all the grief, doing whatever it wants all the damn time.

Gyno: What did you eat yesterday?

Me: *sigh* I dunno. Oatmeal, sandwich, fruit salad, veggie juice, fish, wine, the usual.

Gyno: The fish! It could have been keriorrhea, or anal leakage caused by certain types of butterfish. Was the fish oily?

Me: I guess, a little. Not, like, 10 gallons of ass oil kind of oily.

Gyno: Well, how much of it did you eat?

Me: *thinky face* All...of it? *smile*

Gyno: All of it? What do you mean? The whole fish? You ate an entire fish?

Me: It's good for you. It was escolar. Protein. Somethin somethin omega mu oil.

Gyno: Remember when we talked about portion size?

Me: Palm of your hand.

Gyno: Palm of your hand.

Me: It did fit in the palm of my hand. We didn't discuss height of the portion though. It was a tall portion. Like Jenga, but with fish.

Gyno: Okay, go ahead and play fish Jenga, but you now know that, the next day, you will leak hot waxy oil out of your anus. So...

Me: So...wear a diaper?

Gyno: Yeah, or a different choice that's not that.

Me: *thinky face* Wear...an adult diaper?

Gyno: Okay. We're done here.

Fin.