Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Why Don't They Consult Me About This Kind of Shit?

What is up with chapstick packaging? Seriously. I woke in the middle of the night and needed chapstick, but since I was in a hotel and since I got to that hotel in the middle of the night and then spent 30 minutes trying to talk Angel Butt down from the ledge because I told her I wouldn't play with her until the morning, and OHDEARGODJUSTPUTTHEBOOKDOWN, child. So I forgot to set my standard tube of chapstick on the nightstand beside my head where it belongs, and so I was forced to stagger around a strange hotel room in the dark, pat my way along the wall until I reached the desk, identify by feel which of the eight bags on the desk was my purse, and dig around in my purse until a tiny tube of chapstick made its presence known.

Not irritating at all.

Finally, I felt the package of a brand new, unopened chapstick and decided that would be easier than continuing to play the "Identify Small Shit In My Purse" game, and so I ripped open the package and sighed with relief and reached for the cap of the chapstick and pulled and pulled and pulled...what the hell, why won't this open...pulled again before I realized that there was yet an unopened layer of plastic between my lips and their bliss.

It was at that moment I realized that this product which is for "external use only" is protected from the outside world by cardboard and plastic packaging and on top of that, it is fucking SHRINK WRAPPED for my safety, but tampons, which are for "internal use only" are packaged inside a wrapper so flimsy that sometimes it opens just because you looked at it.

Somebody needs to write a letter to the Attorney General, or the Pussy Control, or who the fuck ever handles the oversight of tampon packaging, and that letter should go something like this:

To Whom It May Concern (besides me and my cooter),

I am writing as a concerned customer to demand more rigorous standards for tampon packaging, which at the time isn't even strong enough to keep a toddler from unwrapping and sticking dozens of them into his bodily orifices. Kids need help unwrapping those damn lollipops from the bank which are MADE FOR KIDS, but they seem to have no trouble opening the packaging for something that kids should not be exposed to, which is the vaginal equivalent of a cork. What follows is a downward spiral of "special talks" with children about their "private places" and the horrifying revelation that those tiny little stuffed mice they've been playing with all these years are actually band-aids. FOR THE INSIDE OF MOMMY.

I'd be better off shoving a Blowpop into my vagina.


Dry-lipped in Des Moines

This is the shit that I think about in the middle of the night.