The Diary of a depressed vagina-
I imagine vaginas and who they’re attached to to be a lot like dogs and their owners. Dogs can sense when their owners are upset or happy or mad or whatever, and kind of know how to react to it. The same things go for vaginas. I mean, obviously vaginas, just like dogs, can certainly be happy on their own. Like, my boyfriend makes mine happy. I mean, of course he makes me happy as well, but you know. Anyway, when I’m sad, she gets sad, when I’m depressed, she gets depressed. I’m on medication for depression. That essentially means she is, too, in a weird sense. I can’t believe I compared vaginas to dogs….but, lol, it’s kinda true. What if vaginas could talk? And narrate and have opinions? That’d be kinda funny. My vagina would probably be like:
This bitch keeps calling me fat and ugly…and she wonders why I’m depressed. And what the hell is she doing comparing us to dogs!? Oh my god. I can’t believe I’m attached to a ginger. Fml.