Fire Crotch

My sister is pregnant. Now this isn't something new to me, I've known since before Christmas but now that she is actually showing I can't help but think 'my sister is pregnant!'.
Now I'm not going to lie I probably haven't been the most helpful sister in the world. For example pointing out that she's almost as round as I am tall probably wasn't the most sensitive thing in the world to say. I'm just not one of those baby fever, isn't creating new life wonderful people. I like to trip children up when they run up and down the train, screaming and disturbing me from my depressing, blog writing thoughts.
There are many mothers out there who will look at this in disgust. I would ask those women to take a look at their vaginas and then consider which is the more disgusting? Let's face it babies murder vaginas. That's why lesbians can't get each other pregnant. They need the vagina to stay in order so they don't get lost during cave diving.
I've always thought that the vagina is quite a seemly thing, all tucked away with a garden the Edward scissorhands would happily spend his time creating and re-creating. Once a child gets hold of it though it all goes down hill and starts slapping between your thighs. If you are pregnant right now you probably haven't seen your vagina for a while. Don't kid yourself thinking it's ok down there. Let me give you an idea; do you remember 'gunge'? That rubber/plastacine love child that you could mould and throw at the wall? Ever drop it on the carpet? Yep that's your vagina now. Never quite setting on a shape but moulding to whatever pants you're wearing that day. Yes you will have a tiny baby to show for it but is that worth feeling like an extra in Alien?
There is only one worse thing you can do to your lady region: Fire Crotch.
Fire Crotch should not happen and yet it managed to happen to me. I was taking a night off cooking and allowed the ex to cook for me instead. He made a spicy casserole that destroyed my pan and tasted like licking a rusty spoon. To make up for this we went to bed (I wonder whose idea that was!). I'm not going to tell you exactly what happened as I already share too much on this blog. Just consider what happens when you're having sex and his hands move to places well... you know when you cut chilli you're not supposed to touch your eyes.............. Got it now?!! Why the fudge did he not wash his hands? There's nothing quite like stopping sex to throw your shower head between your legs on the coldest setting possible.
Fire Crotch, it's real people. If I ever squeeze out a sprog I will spend the labour considering which agony is worse, a tiny person ripping through my vagina or the burning pain as you realise your boyfriend has set fire to your vagina.

Oh one last thing to all those expectant mothers out there including my dister (Hmm most people have a nickname to save their identities. I shall call my sister 'Optimus', full of older wisdom but shit scary when she's angry and shoves a gun in your face).
DO NOT KISS YOUR BABY! I don't mean ever just when they first get out and are covered in placenta. IT'S PLACENTA!! You might as well start kissing your used tampons. That is all.



Oh and ... good luck Optimus!