I have no vagina; I haven’t been blessed with one. I am vaginaless. I was born with this sausage-like front tail called a penis instead. And believe me, it’s not a blessing—try peeing after waking up with a morning wood, for example. Ah, you don’t know what it’s like. Well, so do I when you mention your period. It looks like we both have things we just have to take on faith. And please, before you accuse me of mockery, try to see me for who I really am, because your body drives you crazy once a month; mine, on the other hand, is a thorn twenty-four-seven; at least it was for the younger, testosterone-fuelled version of me. Now that I’ve crossed the magical forty mark, it’s actually not that bad. Originally, masturbating at least twice a day went down to at most twice a month. It’s that damn biology, you know. Obsession with sex may be funny in Hollywood comedies, but in real life, it’s a hard thing to deal with, especially for an average guy like myself who doesn’t look like Brad Pitt or is rich like those dudes at Google. And just to be perfectly clear, I don’t condone any of the terrible things that have happened and are still happening to you and your sisters. I’m the furthest from that. And this whole patriarchy thing is as bad for me and my brethren as it is for you, even if some of these morons are not even aware of that. So, let’s talk about how to change our lives for the better.
hidden pilcrow 