I’m writing this after a horrific work day yesterday. Now, I realize that horrific work days vary greatly depending on what your job is, and that a bad day for me means nothing compared to a bad day for an ICU nurse. Or a garbage man. Or a bull rider. BUT. My face is about six inches away from vagina’s all day and so a bad day for me can feel pretty bad. I’m not sure if it was a full moon, or if all of the difficult clients had a pow-wow and decided to come in on the same day, but I’m telling you: Every single vagina I encountered was demonic, I am sure of it. The weather starts heating up, and bodies start heating up, and heat = sweat, and sweat = a whole bunch of problems, and when you combine all of that with a small room and no air conditioning, well. I’m just going to let you use your imagination. It was rough, and also I had forgotten to pack my weed whacker. And Xanax.
…which is why the half block of cheese I ate when I got home was totally acceptable.
So I needed to decompress. I knew tequila wasn’t an option, partly because I don’t own any and partly because the last time I did own a bottle of tequila, I was 22 and dressed like a pirate and woke up on an unfamiliar couch with my sword in one hand and a burnt bagel in the other.
I settled for some salted caramel greek yogurt and silently scolded myself over why I didn’t instead buy salted caramel ice cream. Yogurt is no remedy for bad tips and overgrown hoo-ha’s and the last thing I was worried about at that moment was how well my pants were gonna fit me the next day. While brooding over stupid grocery store choices, I remembered that one of my good friends texted me recently about how she is having to teach Sex Education at her school. That statement in itself is enough to brighten my day because the thought of anyone I know having to lecture adolescents on why you should wipe front to back is just the best thing ever, and I would literally wax my own vagina in public if it meant I could watch my friend show innocent young minds how to put a condom on a banana.
She said she’d had her kiddo’s write down any sex-related questions they had, and submit them anonymously. She sent me pictures of her favorites because she is an awesome person and awesome people send their friends pictures of weird shit their students do.
So here they are.
I am in my twenties, and still waiting for the answer to most of these questions.
Oh, and in case my vagina horrors weren’t enough for you to feel like you definitely have your shit together, I just realized this morning that I have been using LAUNDRY soap in the DISHWASHER.
I also burnt myself trying to iron out a wrinkle in my shirt, because I was WEARING it.
Just be relieved that I don’t have a child.
I hope your Monday was filled with way more awesomeness than mine was, and if it wasn’t, here’s hoping Tuesday makes us all slightly less tempted to become alcoholics.
7 thoughts on “Sex-Ed”
this is awesome!! thank you for sharing 🙂 got a great chuckle at work today.
Thanks, Lance!! 🙂
My husband teaches sex ed and every year the best questions are displayed on our fridge. My favorite from last year was ” Did you have set to get Juniper (our daughter)? This post almost required a pants change I was laughing so hard
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I loved this sooo much!!!!!!
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Love it great chuckle…..the questions are hysterical ! The spelling is beyond…how old are these spellers? I am guessing they have to teach sex ed before spelling ! Xo
First of all, you are correct. Horrific work days are strictly dependent on your point of view. In my book, six inches away from a vagina all day may not be that bad. Sweating, demonic, or otherwise, six inches away from an Excel spreadsheet seems like a far worse fate!
As far as decompression goes, tequila is always an option, although I have found that other forms of decompression are not as prone to hangover. Neither ice cream or yogurt are viable options. I’d stick with Barcardi 151. If it fails to decompress, you can always go with self-immolation.
While I have never put a condom on a banana, I can perhaps shed some light on some of the questions that were asked.
1. How do you masturbate? Well first of all, wherever and whenever possible. If they were asking about technique, that is strictly personal, but I prefer to use a natural lubricant like coconut oil, circle the tip with a ring of my thumb and forefinger…oh never mind, now I need to go masturbate! Also, and don’t ask me why, it doesn’t seem to hurt if someone is watching you. This is a fact that one never experiences when you are young and whacking off to anything that moves.
2. How does your body know when to not to put out pee instead of sperm? As far as pee and sperm are concerned, the body seems to know that that you piss ON it and cum IN it. Can’t really explain why, but millions of years of evolution seem to have worked this one out. Believe me, try peeing and you will find out fast.
3. How can you tell if you are gay or lesbian? A couple of clues here. If you are male and find men attractive, you may be gay. If you are female and find women attractive you may be lesbian. However if you are male or female and find other humans attractive you may be less fucked up than you think.
4. Does the guy have to pee inside the girl for the sperm to transfer? See #2
5. How big is the average peines? Well since I am considered HUGE by any standard, I would have to guess the average penis size at roughly 2 inches. For you metric people, this translates to 51 millimeters, which would sound better except anything with the words “mili” and penis just doesn’t sound good.
6. Can sperm be different color for black people? No experience here, but I am guessing that Pearl Jam is Pearl Jam regardless if you are from Seattle or not.
PS- Laundry soap does not work well in the dishwasher but it does leave your dishes smelling April fresh.
Ironing a shirt while you are wearing it may keep you from getting board.
People like you should have children because you swim in the deeper end of the gene pool.
Monday was awesome, bu alcohol is always tempting!
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This was hilarious! I totally remember when I was in 5th grade, the “40 Year Old Virgin” had just come out and we were also studying sex-ed. My group of friends knew the word “virgin” had some sort of sexual connotation, but couldn’t figure out what exactly it meant. My class had the same privilege of writing anonymous questions, and one of my friends asked what a 40 year old virgin was. Too good.