One of my favorite manosphere blogs is no more. Its proprietor, worried that he might get “outed” in real life, decided to shut it down and delete everything. In deference to his desire for privacy, I will refer to him here only as Arky-May Ark-May. He will be missed.
Luckily, before the shutdown, I managed to grab one last post, a little gem titled “The Vagina, by Christopher in Oregon.” Chris, a longtime friend of Arky-May, is something of an expert on this particular subject, in his own special way. As a man who is very definitely Going His Own Way, it seems clear that he’s had little or no experience or contact with actual vaginas. But he seems to think about them more than perhaps anyone on earth. His thoughts are not kind thoughts.
So let’s pour one out for Arky-May’s lost blog, and enjoy Christopher of Oregon’s ruminations:
Men spend most of their lives trying to get back into the hole they shot out of, so they need to stop for a moment and analyze it. The vagina, I mean.
Here we go.
At first glance, it’s mighty ugly. Floppy lips dangling down like bat wings. The entire region pelted with ugly pubic hair. It’s greasy, and the more aroused and broody she becomes, the greasier it gets.
The greasier? The greasier? You’ve never actually touched one, have you? Reading Christopher of Oregon on the vagina is a bit like listening to a high school student who hasn’t done the reading try to bluff his way through a teacher’s question on Macbeth.
Have I mentioned the smell yet? Let me tell you, it’s horrifying. I have an up-scale Sushi restaurant near my home. I love Sushi, by the way. But, on the edge of the parking lot of the afore-mentioned restaurant, they dump the scraps and unsold fish into a dumpster. I walked by there the other day when it was about 85 degrees, and the smell just about knocked me over. The first thought that occurred to me was that it smelled just like every vagina I’ve ever known.
Chris, clearly the only vaginas you’ve ever known have been fish vaginas. (Do fish have vaginas? They must, right?)
Now, a skunk smells bad. A dead possum smells bad. So does a cat box. But a vagina? That goes beyond bad. And, no, it’s not “musky” or “tart” as some women like to say.
It’s bad. Really bad. I don’t think we have single word in the English language that adequately describes the foul, rancid odor of a woman’s vagina.
There is something patently WRONG with something that produces such a noxious stench that it could, as the old saying goes, knock a buzzard off a shit-wagon at fifty paces.
I’m pretty sure that even the foulest vagina in the history of the world wouldn’t be able to knock a buzzard off a shit-wagon at any distance further than a couple of yards. Buzzards love shit-wagons!
I just ask you fellows to put that hairy hole in proper perspective.
Huh. I thought Harry Hole was a fictional Norwegian detective.
Ah, well. I’m off to lunch with a greatly reduced appetite.
Say hi to Arky-May for us.