A pearl-colored bear emerges from the woods and tells you its true name. Some, though not all, of the wounds of Jesus have appeared upon your forearms. All clocks read midnight and emit a high-pitched scream when you enter a room. Your mother cannot see you. She can see your shadow; she can see the physical effects of your actions, as when you pick up a pencil or open a door, but you appear as…
The dawn stirred and so did MacGyver. His mullet gleamed in the soft light of dawn and he knew it.
“They say the morning is for birds and worms,” he said out loud, feeling for his trusty paperclip.
The cold winter air made his words look serious, like little clouds of gravitas. As he did karate out of the bed, his hand hit a suspicious wetness. MacGyver visibly stifled a gasp, clenching his
Guys, this is ridiculous. Come on, now. Moreover, when I am given the reins to the nation, there will be one kind of pad and one kind of tampon and they will be handed out by the goverment like your I Voted! stickers.
Once upon a time long ago in my small Ontario town, menstrual pads were called sanitary napkins, and they came in boxes wrapped in plain brown paper lest any man see them and drop dead from embarrassment. These pads were about an inch thick—bulky, awkward things that were held in place with little twisty belts or safety pins. To be extra safe, some women even wore special rubber-lined underpants. This was long before the wonders…
Affixed to almost every vertical surface in the modern public ladies' room are helpful written reminders like "Please do not flush diapers, sanitary napkins, or other feminine products." "Place paper towels only in the trash can." "For public safety, please wash your hands after using the restroom." "Dispose tampons here, not on the floor." * It leads one to wonder just what type of clientele these signs are attempting to target. Their specificity assumes a…
