Really, i'm not using it

Free to a good home - or bad one, i don't care: One barely used uterus. Like a piano, the actual getting it out of where it is and to your place might be tricky - that part is up to you though. Seems to work fine, except for once ten years ago; however, since then, it has been perfectly regular. Requires meds two days a month. Answers to a variety of swear words. Pick it up today and i'll throw in two ovaries and a diva cup as a bonus.

Seriously, get this fucking thing out of me.

Wherein I Reveal Which Set of Gonads I Possess

In case you wondered, I am a woman. I have lady parts and two of them are quite large. Let me tell you, they’re not my eyes like that Zoey Deschanel or those chicks in mascara commercials. I don’t dig ‘em – let’s get that clear. I mean, they’re all right. They’re not deformed too badly and they’re kind of fun to play with and I get a kick out of it when lovers do their thing with them, but mostly they are cumbersome. Buying bras is a shitty experience. Every. Single. Time. Jogging, running and jumping rope are things I have to do in private or else struggle to contain my rage so I don’t punch a bunch of people’s eyes out for ogling. Something which I should not even be allowed to get pissed about because I have been known to stare gape-mouthed at giant and/or unrestrained bazungas. It’s just…well, when it’s me people stare at it becomes a problem.

Anyway, I digress. It’s just hard to let go of a resentment I’ve had since 3^rd grade when these monsters first reared their nipple-covered heads, like mounds of flesh wearing skull caps of sensitivity. 

 

I just wanted to let you know that I’m a lady – not in the fancy, well-bred sort of way – just in the sense that I have lady ‘nads and all that comes with them. I’m sure you would’ve caught on but, you know, just in case…