I’ve encountered a lot of boners over the years. You know, long ones, even longer ones, super mega long ones, and ones you could anchor a yacht with. My boner list is long (I mean it’s a short list, but entirely composed of big ol’ giant ding-a-lings that make you go “HEYOOOOH!”) enough that I feel like I have comprised the empirical research needed to conduct a qualitative scientific analysis. Haha I said anal! Talkin’ ’bout da backdoor. lol buttsecks! JK JK we aren’t talking about that today.. maybe next time. *WINK WINK*
Let’s get back to the boners. Not all boners are alike. Some are longer or more longer than other long ones. Basically though they’re all the same. Vaginas, now those are some unique snowflakes. Some are mine, and others aren’t. Mostly I’m just familiar with mine, and it is quite an intricate puzzle of skin and secretions. Sure, I’ve seen others.. but mine is the one I care about the most. If you own a vagina, I hope you feel the same way. It’s important to take time to focus on what makes your own bomb go boom. It often takes more than just a boner in the ol’ lady tunnel to really get me there, and I suspect I’m not alone. Ain’t no shame in bringing in some battery powered backup. Whatever gets those inner muscles spasming, girl, go on wit it.
If this is the case with you, I’m sure you know how frustrating it can be. That’s why I’ve come up with my quick list of go-to toys that I use, whether with myself or with whatever dude I’ve currently got handcuffed to my bathroom sink. It helps me, maybe it will help you, too? And if you don’t share this problem… if you’re one of those lucky ladies who can just win in bed every time, just imagine how extra victorious you could be with a little extra somethin-somethin in the form of a magical feel good device! I’m talking double, triple, quadruple times the shiney giney! That puddin cup will be gleaming from here to Nantucket, and even a little northeast of there (Nova Scotia).
The Rabbit Vibrator
You’ve only been hearing about this vibrator since it appeared on Sex in the City back in the late 90′s, but there’s good reason. This is the only vibrator you’ll ever need. It’s magical. It runs on carrots. It twists, turns, speeds up, slows down and covers all your bases. There have been a lot of knock-offs (most of them look like dolphins) made over the years and they work, but the best will always be the original Rabbit. WUTZ UP, DOC?
I dig this one because I have the hardest time achieving these babies. Sometimes I’m like, “Whoa is that a baby in my vagina or am I just happy to do me?” They don’t come often (pun totz intended) with myself and never show up for the main event (cock fight), but I can HOLLA AT A G-spot orgasm any day with one of these. Designed specifically to target the greatest one inch section of your body (unless you’re a man, in which case it’s the prostate), this toy makes it easy to find your g-spot and let it loose.
A discrete vibrator is a vibrator that is designed to look like something else, you know, like a tube of lipstick or toothpaste, a rubber duck, or an old school Nokia cell phone that has serious vibrating power. These come in handy when you’re traveling because TSA won’t know the difference, nor will your suitcase prying little cousins. And it’s also easy to throw into your purse and whip out when ur gettin’ yo freak on & be like “HOLD UP HOMIE, let me get my lipstick out and reapply to my vagina for the remainder of this encounter.” He will be none the wiser. Adam and Eve has a really fun collection of these toys. It’s fun to see how many people you can trick into thinking ur not masturbating when you’re actually totally masturbating. I’m always like “Hey neighbor, guess what I’m doing right now.” She never guesses that I’m getting my clit hard with a discreet vibrator, but that’s pretty much always what I’m doing. Haha GOT YA lady in 4C who always checks her mail in pajamas!
Ben Wa Balls
So I have to admit, I didn’t know what these were until I watched Nia get one lodged inside her on The Real World: Portland. I was very curious. I was even a little scared. But upon discovering their magic, I’m telling you, I go Ben-Wa-Balls-to-the-wall crazy with these vag nuggets! The fun thing is that you can use ben wa balls with yourself or with your man-friend. They have many uses including personal funtime, interpersonal funtime, and feminine fitness. I’ve been using them to work on my kegels for about 2 months, and now I can crush a can inside me!
Sometimes you need a little help, and sometimes you just want it because turning your orifice into a boner Slip N’ Slide is just as awesome as it sounds. It’s also great to pair with your toys, just be sure to get the water-based kind, as silicone based lube can’t be paired with every kind of sex toy or condom and oil-based lube can end in a tragic infection. That ain’t tartar sauce, ladies!
So there you have it. Maybe you’re not like me or maybe you are, doesn’t matter because this list can make everyone’s sex life a little more fun!
Go forth & do the sex things with all these amazing sex enhancing sex things.
HAHA that was soooo crazy! It was like, I grewed it inside my belly forever, then BOOM I got to spend 13 hours in a hospital trying to poop it out. Anyway, I still totally have that baby. She is actually a child now, and probably an adult in some countries. She’s 18 months old, or 1.5 years, or 93$h846uy20jgo4w8 quadraloops (if you’re familiar with the time lapse continuum structures on Mars). She walks and talks (mostly jibberish) and entertains the shit out of me. She also drives the proverbial shit out of me. It’s a delicate double-edged serrated spiral saw blade type of relationship where sometimes I’m overjoyed by her presence, and sometimes I just want a goddamned moment of peace. I’m a stay-at-home-all-the-fucking-time-and-try-to-entertain-a-toddler mom, and I used to internally chuckle at women who acted like being a mom was sooo hard.. like bitch what the hell is so hard about sitting at home with a kid all day? TRY ROCKET SCIENCE. But man.. it’s true. Being a mom is hard. It’s not technically difficult in the way that doing 20 push-ups every hour is not hard to figure out, but it’s fucking exhausting and mentally draining and after a year of doing it you are still waiting for a break. I lived nearly 26 years having basically no real responsibilities. I’ve never felt attached to anything I’ve done in a way where I feel that I have to do it, like there are literally no other options. I’ve always held jobs that I could easily quit without much concern. If I quit one job, I can always get another. BUT if you quit being a mom, I don’t even know.. just a lot of bad.. wait, what the fuck does happen if I quit? I mean I guess I could make another baby, but I’ve already put so much time into this one. I guess people do quit being moms, but they look like giant selfish assholes, and obviously I am very concerned about people not thinking I’m an asshole. Wait.. I am already a giant asshole. So what am I doing here? What is it that keeps me from quitting?? I guess I like it. OMG don’t tell anyone I said that. My street cred will not survive if I go around saying I like being a mom. There are moments that I don’t like, though. There are moments where I’m like “HOLY HELL WHAT HORRIBLE DECISION HATH I CURSED UPON MY WOMB???” And that’s ok & normal & makes me an even better mom than lying ass bitch moms that act like it’s all cuddles & giggles. Get the hell outta here with your robotic Stepford bullshit. I don’t care how patient and understanding you think you are, a year of barely sleeping & incessant screaming will wear you the fuck down. Research even shows that having children decreases your lifespan. The more you have, the more years get ticked off your life. So it’s clinically unhealthy, and no fucking wonder. It’s the most non-stop, demanding thing and it completely consumes your life. I guess it doesn’t HAVE to, you could always just not care about doing a good job at it and say “fuck this” and go be like Jenelle from Teen Mom 2. But that’s gross and doesn’t look very appealing. For all it’s fuckery, I know that I would be a lot less happy without my work as a mom. Hanging out with friends all night & sleeping all day never really had much payoff in the end. I never sat back and thought, “I really accomplished something important today when I played Mario Party for 4 hours.” I never would have thought I’d end a day still in pajamas, looking like shit, and feel like I did anything productive either, but that’s pretty much my life now. I handle a lot of shit, both figuratively & literally, and I don’t get paid for it, and I still have tons of other problems that go along with just being a woman, and a human, and I juggle all that crap and I make it look good, too. The only reason I even got to write all this is because I’ve been feeding my kid chocolate chips next to me to keep her distracted long enough to not close my laptop or press all the buttons or spontaneously combust. Cuz that’s what moms gotta do. U KNOW IT’S HARD OUT HERE 4 A MOM.
For the record, I wouldn’t do it again. HAHA jk I would. Probably. Maybe. If there was money involved.
So I started this thing where I get paid to reply to lonely men on the internet via this dating site thing.. I know this sounds really legit & like, professional. ANYWAY, as you might imagine, I become bored with acting normal bc it is just sooooo boring to be all “oh hi, you have big muscles tee-hee-hee” all the time. Sometimes I become weirdly resentful of how dumb shit like this is what women do for money (but mostly my mindset is that it’s awesome bc really ONLY women can make money doing easy shit like this) but also sometimes it’s just a huge inner debate with myself over if I’m being true to my feminist beliefs or just aiding in the perpetuation of the objectification of women?? Then I realize that this very conversation taking place inside my brain is actually PROOF that I am doing okay bc most of the women doing this are probably slutty stripper airheads. If there’s one thing that feminists are good at, it’s calling other women dumb whores! Or is that just women? Oh, who knows anymore.. the vagina is still a mystery to me. So I recently submitted this reply before totally realizing how hilarious & insane it was. The guy seemed nice enough & normal but I just let my juices flow and well, my juices are weird, man. I mean I just want you to start from the top again and understand the thought process that I experience before I do things. Like, all things. Even small things. I am so OCD sometimes that I don’t get anything done. For example, I haven’t updated this blog in months. Like multiple months. I don’t even know how many. I would take a guess but guessing gives me anxiety. Do you just want to like, read the thing I was trying to tell you about? Ok here:
“Thanks for the kind words. How old are you? You look really in shape. I need to get on that getting fit bandwagon. Sometimes I work out but then I get too proud & reward myself with like 1000 cakes. Then I cry about what a gluttonous slob I’ve become. It’s just a momentary lapse though, I always bounce back to barely eating anything just like a real girl is supposed to. Sometimes I don’t eat anything for days just because I don’t even want to think about pooping. It’s so annoying, like why do we even waste time doing that? Seems like science should have come up with some way for us to be able to not need to poop anymore, ya know?”
So maybe eventually I won’t get money for doing ridiculously easy things because I can’t even handle that.. it’s almost like it’s too easy so I’ve made it exceptionally difficult or gone out of my way to get fired from something that is probably too stupid to even get fired from. Eventually I’ll probably just build a rocket ship or invent new ways to breathe.
I know. I KNOW. It has been a long time. You have missed me SO MUCH! I’ve barely thought about you because my life is so much more interesting. What a balanced relationship we have, that’s why this works. You wait with bated breath for me to slam my fingers around on a keyboard while I lounge around in week old pajamas coated in vomit and urine with a soundtrack of a screaming baby playing on repeat in the background. Motherhood is just glamorous that way.
The thing is, it’s unimaginably time consuming & difficult. Especially for people like me that have no previous experience, knowledge, or capacity to care about babies. Like for example, I had no idea that having a baby would affect my sleep schedule. The first night we brought her home I was like “WHAT THE HELL? TAKE IT BACK. I WANT A REFUND.” I require so much sleep. Like I am pretty sure that I am a cat puppeting this human body. I need 12 hours a night MINIMUM to feel alright enough to get up and not immediately search for items to kill myself with. But that’s simply no longer an option, I mean the sleeping 12 hours part.. the suicide part is DEFINITELY still an option and that window of opportunity grows bigger & brighter every day. I am so stressed out all the time. I’m losing my hair, which is not from stress so much as it is from tiny fingers violently ripping it out of my head on a daily basis. Quinn has also started teething, so we are back to those newborn days where I am awaken every 2 hours with blood-curdling screams. The difference now, however, is that she is virtually inconsolable. At least when she was a newborn all you had to do was plug a bottle into her face & the screaming would pause for a couple hours. Now we have to hold her down and try to squirt Motrin in her mouth without her projectile vomiting it back up. Oh but it’s such an experience. People say it’s worth it, and they’re right. Because as much as it sucks, it would still suck a lot more to go to prison for flushing it down the toilet like an unwanted carnival prize.. and that’s worth all the sleep you’ll never get in the world! Plus there are these fun parts, like dressing them up like bumble bees..
When she sleeps it is really awesome. Sometimes it’s so quiet I forget all about how screamy & terrible it is the rest of the time. Just kidding. You never forget. You spend the rare moments of naptime bliss quietly trying to do things like get dressed or eat. You tip toe around your own house as if you’re trying to escape from some horrible nightmare where you’ve been held captive by a monster that plans to rape you to death as soon as he wakes up. Sometimes you will start something like laundry or dishes, and you will get approximately 75% of that task completed before you are beckoned back to whiney village where you are not allowed to do anything other than try to keep a baby from screaming. I used to try to shower, but the screaming is so relentless that I’ve found it easier to just forgo bathing until someone else is there to ensure that I can shave the 4 inches of hair from my armpits in peace. It’s a similar situation with eating. Basically, Master Baby says I’m not allowed to eat. Anything. Ever. If I’m caught sneaking nutrients, Master screams at me until I share. If I need to go pee or take a shit (which is rare bc I don’t eat) Master Baby must accompany me and several toys must be provided so as to keep Master distracted enough to stop trying to touch the toilet seat, kitty litter box, cleaning products under the sink, etc.
All this strife is supposed to have some big payoff someday, though. So I’m giving her 8 years to get her shit together. If the child acting dreams that I’ll be indoctrinating in her don’t work out, then she’s gonna have to start pulling her own strings. She shouldn’t have any trouble landing gigs considering how gorgeous she is. She’s already getting a lot of attention from modeling agencies based on her new headshot alone:
Who could resist that face? If my baby can’t be the next Lindsay Lohan, then we will just all have to accept that the American dream really is dead.
Having a baby really is an adventure though. The only thing that it’s lacking is PRIZES. I have accumulated so many rewards in my brain from all the restraint I’ve shown in not throwing mine outside to live in the forest and be raised/eaten alive by squirrels/zombie squirrels (let’s not pretend we know what’s going on out there). For all their faults, babies are cute. Well I mean, MINE is. Some babies are not cute and those moms really deserve some consolation prizes. Being adorable is my kid’s saving grace. If she was hideous AND screaming all the time I’d be like, “GREAT, now I have to find someone to teach you how to have a redeeming personality.” I mean really, when do the chores end? I carried you inside of me for 9 months, and squeezed you out of my fachina.. I believe my work here is done. AM I RIGHT, LADIES?
I don’t want to discourage any of you from procreating, though. Babies are really awesome!! In fact, most days, I want another baby. And by “another” I mean “instead of” and by “baby” I mean “cat.”
Welp, if this sucks it’s because someone screamed at me while I banged it out. So until next time… I’ll be scraping shit off of my kid’s back. <3
I did it! I gave all the births! On october 4th 2011, Boner Town ushered in its newest citizen: Quinn Elise Pracchia. I was induced because my baby was being anorexic or something. I was 38 weeks and she was still measuring at 36 so it was time for this booger to get sneezed out. Despite being induced with pitocin and a Foley balloon catheter (the worst part of the whole ordeal), I managed to deliver without an epidural. I wanted to go as natural as possible and in retrospect, I have no idea how I managed it, but I did, and therefore I am better than the average woman. I would DESTROY pretty much anyone in a birth off. So now that I am an expert on everything, I want to tell you all about how to have a baby if you happen to accidentally get pregnant like I did which is the smartest thing you can do for your vagina.
First of all, you need to have a topnotch bagina. You probably have a gross one but whatever do some exercise and go get a brazilian. Babies only like to slide out of pretty vaginas, so if you think you are going to just neglect your junk and have an easy birth you are sorely mistaken. I did labia curls 6 times a week to prep my glambox for its big debut. I also had my butthole darkened (bleaching is so last year) and got a permanent landing strip tattoo. Vaginas are like the new eyebrows, so you want to strip all the hair off and then replace it with ink to give it the illusion of the stuff you just took off of it. If being beautiful wasn’t so confusing then stupid people would be doing it. Also, it doesn’t hurt to have a small baby (literally). Mine was 5lbs. That’s like a bag of sugar, so you can practice giving birth by having sex with a bag of sugar. Look how excited my little bag of sugar is..
Next, you need to choose a name for your spawn. Go with something unique but not too stupid. Don’t name it after your favorite fruit or relative, that’s just plain silly. Don’t take it that seriously though, because you risk coming up with something really unoriginal like Sooki or Reba. If you are picking a boy name, go with something really masculine like Renée. The one thing I learned after having my baby was that the name isn’t really that important because you just call it “the baby” for like, ever. I went with Quinn for my baby. It’s cool because it has a Q and rhymes with WIN. My one regret is not going with something “more black” like NyQuilitta or Aquaquinipha. But whatever, I can save those names for my future cats.
Ah cats. That brings me to my next tip. After you have your baby, don’t have any more babies. Only more cats. Yes, babies are cute and funny and all that special fuzzy stuff… but they also do a lot of shitty stuff like shit, and stuff. Cats are just warm and fuzzy and cuddly and if they annoy you and you put them outside, you won’t be arrested. Yes, being arrested can be invigorating and down right liberating, but it’s also shitty and the opposite of liberating. So take a page out of Casey Anthony’s book and don’t go to prison!
Hmm what else? I’m only 2 months into this whole motherhood thing so I’m still coming to terms with what an amazingly brilliant parent I am. Oh you know what’s fun to do with babies? DRESS THEM UP! I often go days without showering and wearing the same spit-up covered pajamas, but my baby gets the luxury of having multiple wardrobe changes every day. Since being pregnant makes you fat, I pretty much spent all my time and money during the final months of pregnancy buying clothes for my baby. Typically I’d buy clothes for me, because I used to be fun to dress.. but then I got all enormous and frustrating to dress. Babies are always fun to dress though, even fat ones because a fat baby is still a really small person, and as we all know, small people are HOT PEOPLE! I secretly hoped that I’d have a midget baby, even though there aren’t any midget genes in either mine or my babydaddy’s family. Midget babies are really cute though, Google them! So yeah, dressing up your baby is a fun way of wasting all your free time. Here’s my little turkey (plus my adorbz babydaddy boyfriend) celebrating her first Thanksgiving..
I don’t have any more tips right now but I do want to share some interesting facts about my baby. She is really super ultra mega adorable (I know I know, that’s not a surprise considering the magnificent vagina she was expelled from). But for realz she is probably the cutest baby there ever was. You could solve world hunger with her cuteness. You could end wars with my baby’s cheeks. No lie. PLUS she was born with an abnormally high level of street cred because my womb was blessed by the ghost of Tupac Shakur, and you can totally tell because she looks just like him.
It’s cool and everything but she is always talking real ghetto and telling me how she “runs Compton.” I try to make cutesy baby talk at her but she just throws up gang signs and shits herself. She’s a regular lil’ hoodrat. The other day she told me to go buy her REAL CIGARETTES.
Anywayz doe, that’s about all the baby info I have for now. Check back soon for some more great parenting tips!
It’s been a while since I updated because I am so pregnant all the time. Plus I have become so overwhelmingly attractive that it’s difficult to not just stare at a full-length mirror all day. My body is like this amazing bulbous creature. You know how men like “curvy” women? Well I have pretty much redefined their wildest fantasy. I’m beyond curvy, I’m lumpy and parts of my body protrude in nearly every direction! I’m like a whole new breed of sexy, basically. I know this for a fact because when I go out in public, people cannot stop looking at me. At first it was annoying but now I realize that I just posses such an unattainable level of beauty that people have to stop what they are doing and take it all in because it’s probably the only chance they’ll ever have to bestow their peasant eyes on this caliber of babe. So now I’m just like, “Yeah ok you can take a picture.”
I made some new artwork to illustrate my stages of pregnancy. I think I’m in my second or third semester now. It gets confusing because you have to keep up with time and all this stuff but I’m so busy taking naps and overeating, so like I had been telling people I was 19 weeks along for like 5 weeks and then I was like, “Wait a minute! I forgot about how time works!” I’m on top of it now because I went and wrote all the weeks down in my planner. I celebrated my 21st week by getting very drunk, because my baby was 21 and we all know 21 is synonymous with PARTY! So here is what I remember about week 21:
Remember when I said it was probably a boy baby? Well I was just using reverse psychology on my uterus because I wanted a girl, and guess what IT TOTALLY WORKED! (My uterus is subscribed to my blog.) So I am having a girl baby, which means I currently am housing TWO VAGINAS, which explains a lot about why I’m so extra pretty lately. So if you want to know if you’re prettier than me, I made this quiz you can take to figure it out:
So after I found out that my baby was a girl, that’s when I really started to get that double vagina glow. Around week 25 I noticed that men couldn’t keep their eyes off of my belly. Some other changes started happening too like my belly button was getting really wide and shallow. This has basically saved time on bathing because I don’t have to put extra effort into cleaning it out because it’s pretty much all exposed now. Here is a drawing so you can get a better idea of week 25:
My baby is starting to inherit some of my skills such as art. She is probably like 4 or 5 years old now and wears cute outfits with little French berets and other artsy stuff like she probably goes to cafes and drinks tea and stuff like that. She is probably bombarded with boyfriends too. Anyway enough about her, let’s get back to me. So around week 28 I notice that not only is it men checking me out all the time, but now WOMEN are joining in. At this point I’m like, “What is going on here?” So I go home and look in a mirror and it hits me: I am so pretty! I guess something about all my extra vagina hormones is probably making ladies subconscious be all lezbo and stuff. Here is a very accurate representation of week 28:
So that is pretty much how things have been going for me lately. Oh another thing that recently happened is that I fell down and hurt my foot really bad. Pregnancy has given me the agility of an intoxicated toddler. I lose my footing out of nowhere all the time. Sometimes I’ll just be standing up and then I stumble on nothing. It’s super funny and really makes tons of sense about how fucking retarded mother nature is. I’m sure this whole experience would have been way more difficult if I hadn’t had my basic motor skills swapped out for the enormous responsibility of carrying another life. I can’t wait to see what my body has in store for me after I have the baby. Maybe I’ll lose mobility in my arms and go deaf, surely those things would make for optimal infant care!
On some beautiful drunken night back in January, I made contact with a very special boner. That boner did something magical to my inner woman gut. A baby was implanted inside there, and nobody even told me. It was a total surprise party (of one) in my uterus, and I had no idea! To be clear, it was an accident. It was unplanned. It was the last thing I ever thought I’d be doing with my body. But who am I to judge the acts of the Boner God? So now I’m pregnant with a baby, and I assume the baby has a boner, because it was made from 100% pure organic fair-trade boner juice. (My boyfriend is a total health nut so that’s how I know.) It’s been pretty crazy so far, mostly just a lot of anxiety over the future of my vagina. I’m coming to terms with the fact that it will, probably, get totally exploded and send shrapnel flying out for miles. Tiny pieces of my placenta piercing the flesh of innocent onlookers. But alas, I’ve still got like 5 months to prepare for the total destruction of my once perfectly symmetrical poontang. So what have I been doing during these first 18 weeks of pego-ness, you ask? Well I will tell you. I will show you also, because I’m an expert drawer and explainer of all medical things relating to and around the vagenitals of a woman.
Some of my friends who’ve been pregnant have used these things on facebook that post a little drawing and give you a synopsis of what’s going on during each week of pregnancy, and you know what? They’re not very accurate, and they’re also not very good drawings. So I made my own. This is week 4:
Week 4 of pregnancy is a lot like week 1 of a stomach virus and week 3 of PMS. Most women don’t even know they’re pregnant yet. I didn’t. I thought I was just sick with homicidal rage, and eventually would start my monthly vaginal bleeding routine. In fact, at one point, I thought I did start my period. But it was only a small amount of pinkish blood and lasted for like, an hour. I says to my friend I says, “Man, I had the shortest period ever, it was literally, like, an hour.” Then my friend she says to me she says, “Hmm.. you know, you could be pregnant. That could have been egg implantation bleeding.” I was like “egg imitation HUH?” Then she explains that sometimes when you get pregnant, you have some pinkish bleeding from the egg implanting into your uterus. So the next day I took a pregnancy test and BAM, that bitch was right on da money! So evidently, medically, what happened was that my baby egg flew through my fallopian tube so fast and hit my uterine wall with such force (LIKE A ROCKET) that it totally caused some light bleeding. How BADASS is that?!? That was my first inclination that it was probz a boy because dudes love going fast. Duh. Common fact. OK so moving on, here is my depiction of week 8:
I got my first ultrasound at the ER because I was having some bleeding from some kind of incompetant placenta problem. Normally you don’t get ultrasounds that early but I am like so VIP so I did. It looked like some tiny bean shaped booger just sitting there doing nothing. It was dumb, I was like, “WHAT how is that even a baby where is its rattle and shit?” But I guess this is normal. It was not even a fetus yet it’s just like some cells grouped up forming a gang inside my junk, but like, the weakest dumbest gang ever who don’t do anything like fight other gangs or have turf wars. It was really uneventful but I did get verification that it had a heart beat so that was cool. OK so now week 16 when things are starting to pick up a little bit.
So in between 8 and 16 weeks I started to gain some weight and feel a little bit more normal, but still really emotionally crazy. After week 12 I was officially in my 2nd trimester so the nausea went away which was great because that shit sucks hard balls. I got energy back which was nice too, but I did start gaining weight and my pants got to be really uncomfortable. I was using a pony tale thing for a while, like instead of buttoning my pants.. but eventually that wasn’t enough room so I just bought some maternity pants. Maternity pants are awesome and I wish I would have known that sooner, like before I ever got pregnant. They are perfect for eating a lot of food comfortably, without looking like a fucking slob in sweat pants. I’m for sure gonna wear them to Thanksgiving dinners from now on. My boobs are all swollen and hurty, and even though they’ve gotten bigger, they are still not the same size which is just some shitty ass mistake that mother nature made. It’s like one is slightly bigger than the other, so as they grow, if that one would just hold the fuck back for a minute, the other one could catch up & we’d all be a lot happier.. but no, ol’ righty thinks it’s in a race to get to my belly button. But whatever, eventually they will both just be nutrient supplies for whatever is growing inside me. Tomorrow is my ultrasound to determine the sex, and it will probz have a boner.. because like I said.. it was made with a boner and it likes to move fast like a boner. I’m no doctor but I’m pretty sure 2 boners make an asshole, so this guy’s probz gonna be like.. the coolest VIP dickhead ever.