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Radhika Vaz.

Comedian.

Crass,

crude,

but 

never rude.

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Radhika Vaz.

Comedian.

Screwed,

blued,

and 

tattooed.

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Radhika Vaz.

Comedian.

Crazy,

hazy,

but 

no daisy.

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Radhika Vaz.

Comedian.

Funny,

punny,

and 

quick like a bunny.

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Rantings and Ravings.

November 2, 2011

What’s next God? (An edited excerpt from my one-woman show ‘Unladylike: The Pitfalls of Propriety.’)

As we ladies know, beauty, grace, and feminine dignity are an illusion. For if they were not an illusion, and it were in fact possible for us to achieve this ideal of the ‘fairer sex’ then tell me this, why is it that our biology is capable of the astonishing, inexplicable, and quite frankly unnecessary vaginal flatulence (in the show I call it by it’s colloquial names i.e Pussy Fart and Queef – but somehow in writing ‘vaginal flatulence’ had a nice medical ring to it).

I was introduced to this physical phenomenon at the tender age of 11. I recall that day with perfect clarity, I was standing in the school library, perusing a copy of Sidney Sheldon’s masterpiece ‘The Other Side of Midnight’, instead of studying for a trigonometry exam, when I discovered that women, unlike men, have more than one cavity from which to expel air.  Lucky us.

The first time that it happened I couldn’t fathom it. I knew I had passed wind but it hadn’t taken the usual route. Maybe I was confused – with both exits located so close together it was easy to get mixed up.  But no, apparently I wasn’t confused – this is what happens to us.  And of all the storms we ladies must weather the timing of the queef is most spectacular in it’s inappropriateness.

One summer afternoon, many moons ago, I was a young woman embarking on a new relationship. To display my enthusiasm for the young man in question I engaged in what I would call rather spirited sexual intercourse. We finished up and as I lay there basking in the after-glow, and surreptitiously trying to adjust my WonderBra to display my bosom in their most enticing, if artificially enhanced, fashion, out it came – loud, long and tuneless, like a bugle call at the independence day parade.

The young man I was with sat-up in bed and with a look of confusion and fear asked me ‘What the fuck was that?’ And here is what I said – ‘That only ever happens when the sex is really good’. That is what I came up with. For while our mothers and sisters and teachers tell us about morals, and values, and manners no body ever tells us that one day when you think you are being sexy and beautiful, or when you are simply waiting in line at the local pharmacy to buy a box of Tic-Tacs, your vagina will initiate a conversation with the man behind you.

And it will only get worse. Because as we age everything starts to droop and flap about, we start life with a spiffy little powerboat and as the years go by we end up with a schooner – with multiple sails all flailing about in the breeze.  And you know what else? I think it may be growing.  I no longer have camel toe, I have camel foot. In jeans. And this growth spurt moves things around. For example in my hey-day when I would squat over the toilet bowl to pee I was able to accurately judge in what direction that pee would go. Straight, or to the left, or to the right.  Now it’s anyone’s guess. I can’t control anything anymore. I’m just happy if I can finish my business with out pissing down the side of my leg.  I used to envy my husband because on long car journeys he could just whip it out and pee on the side of the road, now I think I may be a few inches away from being able to do that myself.

So yes, coming back to my original question, what’s next God? What the fuck is next?!

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4 comments

4 Responses to “What’s next God? (An edited excerpt from my one-woman show ‘Unladylike: The Pitfalls of Propriety.’)”

  1. Rebekka Ninan says:

    This is utter rubbish. There nothing like a vaginal fart.I am a woman and I’ve never experienced it and never heard from other women that they have either. Your constant obsession with genital organs , sex , excretion is peurile and I believe you’re running out of subjects to get funny about.

  2. Gayathri says:

    Next come the geographical changes after childbirth (as we all leave it way too late these days) This will most certainly drag ones body down to new depths- directionality of wee will only be mildly concerning-you might find yourself drawn inexplicably to the children’s nappy department-life becomes wildly unpredictable

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