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Friday, September 23, 2016

STINGS




Bare-handed, I hand the combs.
The man in white smiles, bare-handed,
Our cheesecloth gauntlets neat and sweet,
The throats of our wrists brave lilies.
He and I

Have a thousand clean cells between us,
Eight combs of yellow cups,
And the hive itself a teacup,
White with pink flowers on it,
With excessive love I enameled it

Thinking "Sweetness, sweetness."
Brood cells gray as the fossils of shells
Terrify me, they seem so old.
What am I buying, wormy mahogany?
Is there any queen at all in it?

If there is, she is old,
Her wings torn shawls, her long body
Rubbed of its plush—
Poor and bare and unqueenly and even shameful.
I stand in a column

Of winged, unmiraculous women,
Honey-drudgers.
I am no drudge
Though for years I have eaten dust
And dried plates with my dense hair.

And seen my strangeness evaporate,
Blue dew from dangerous skin.
Will they hate me,
These women who only scurry,
Whose news is the open cherry, the open clover?

It is almost over.
I am in control.
Here is my honey-machine,
It will work without thinking,
Opening, in spring, like an industrious virgin

To scour the creaming crests
As the moon, for its ivory powders, scours the sea.
A third person is watching.
He has nothing to do with the bee-seller or with me.
Now he is gone

In eight great bounds, a great scapegoat.
Here is his slipper, here is another,
And here the square of white linen
He wore instead of a hat.
He was sweet,

The sweat of his efforts a rain
Tugging the world to fruit.
The bees found him out,
Molding onto his lips like lies,
Complicating his features.

They thought death was worth it, but I
Have a self to recover, a queen.
Is she dead, is she sleeping?
Where has she been,
With her lion-red body, her wings of glass?

Now she is flying
More terrible than she ever was, red
Scar in the sky, red comet
Over the engine that killed her—
The mausoleum, the wax house.
-Sylvia Plath


Thursday, September 22, 2016

You Don't Love Him. Beware of OXYTOCIN!



"I Think My Boyfriend Boinked Grandma!"

The topic of the Maury Povich show that some poor, excuse making girlfriend is on.

She weeps. Blots her eyes and lipstick. Boyfriend sits there on stage. Legs spread apart. Leaning to one side of the chair. Chewing on a toothpick. Sorry about NOTHING. Eyeing female audience members, staring at breasts and high heels. His gaze on anything but her.

After a damning lie-detector test, she wants to give him another chance.

The audience boos, as they should.

This situation, although typical (especially for this show), begs the question:

Why would a woman want to stay in a relationship like this? I mean, he boinked Grandma for God's sake.

She gives the age-old reason for tolerating said abuse:

"But I love him!"

I wish she knew what I knew. What scientists know. What doggish boyfriends don't want her to know.

What kind of love would stick around after he swam in a pool of nana?



NONE.

It's not love..

It's OXYTOCIN.

Oxytocin explained: (ox-ee-toh-sen)

A mammalian neurohypophysial hormone. Produced by the hypothalamus, stored and secreted by the posterior pituitary gland, oxytocin acts primarily as a neuromodulator in the brain, regulating sensory neurons.




Sensory neurons (touch, smell, sound, light, etc.,) send signals to sensory organs. These sensory organs make up the neuroanatomy.

The neuroanatomy directs INTIMACY and the creation of intense chemical emotional bonds.

What does this have to do with the weeper?

It's released during ORGASMS.



The more orgasms you have with him, the more this chemical is released, the more you (feel you) bond with him. Keep in mind, YOU'RE bonding with HIM. That doesn't mean he's bonding with YOU. If you have a strictly sexual relationship, then more than not,

He's not bonding at all.

Men don't release oxytocin during sex. They release it during hugging and hand holding and most often..

And I'm serious here,

When petting their dogs. #wompwomp

This lack of hormone is what makes men MEN. This is why they can walk away without a care.

It's not cruel, it's chemical.

It doesn't stop at orgasms. Women also release this magic hormone when breastfeeding. If not for oxytocin, mommies might abandon their babies.

Aside from the unintended attachment to fuckboys, we need this stuff.

It can stave off depression, and help you stay happy.

So if you're attached to Mr. Wrong, blame your brain and those pesky orgasms.

If he's a douche but you keep sticking around ask yourself, what's love got to do with it?




Lots of times,

NOTHING.

















Brought to you by the Heart Break Prevention Society. :)


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Fuck your man before he ventures out




















Thursday, September 1, 2016

Beer That Smells & Tastes Like Vaginas Goes On Sale



You like beer and vaginas? Well, now you have a chance to mix these both together. The Order of Yoni is the first brewing company that literally produces beer from vaginas.



The company has already presented Bottled Instinct, a beer made from lactic acid bacteria from the vagina of hot Czech model Alexandra Brendlova.

Thus any man would be able to smell, taste and enjoy woman’s “allure, grace, glamour and instincts”.

The product description reads: “Imagine a woman of your dreams, your object of desire. Her charm, her sensuality, her passion. Try her taste, feel her smell, hear her voice.




Imagine her massaging you passionately and whispering into your ear everything you want. Now free your fantasies and imagine that with a magic wand you can close it in one bottle of beer.”



But how exactly they are planning to create this extraordinary beer? The experimenters would use a gynecological stick to take bacteria from Ms Brendlova’s vagina which will be isolated, cleaned and multiplied.



That bacteria is then used in a culture starter kit, and is combined with water, malt, hops, wooden chips, and yeast to create the beer.

Wojtek Mann, the founder of the company, said: “We were looking for an inspiration, a model who is both beautiful, charming girl and intelligent, eloquent woman. I really appreciate her way of speaking, and I find her body language, the way she walks, very sexual.”



Moreover, the Order of Yoni’s plans to expand their production into BDSM ale and diversify their range of beers with vaginal lactic acid bacteria of a woman with brown, blonde and red hair.

So to summize..

SOME MEN ARE HORRIBLY DESPERATE. Either for Money, Ass, or both.

Beer made from vagina juice is so weird.

Cheers anyway.

I guess.





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