Vaginas are perched on the evolutionary chain before chocolate and after boyfriends. They’re superior in every respect, especially when it comes to catching UTIs and rendering ben wah balls irretrievable. Vaginas are basically assholes, but at least they don’t become erect every time they see bacon.
Vaginas can accommodate a penis, two male egos, and a small planet. Mary Poppins’ magic bag was designed by a vagina, and I’m sure you can see why.
If you set a clitoris free in the jungle, it will wriggle behind a tree. In 1946, a clitoris won the International Hide and Go Seek Championships, and it’s held the title ever since. In other words, don’t even try looking for that clitoris now. It’s probably already in Kazakhstan eating some chocolate.
If you find a clitoris, put it in a box. It will trap another clitoris, and then you’ll have two. Brilliant.
Rabbit vibrators were invented by Jesus during his lesser-known R&D period to give clitorises something to do while their boyfriends were trying to give a decent hand job.
Women don’t name their vaginas because then their ex-boyfriends would be able to find them in the yellow pages.
Butts used to dream of becoming vaginas, but then there was an unfortunate event with the giant butt plug.
Contrary to popular misconception, clitorises do not want to be licked in alphabet shapes, Norman, so kindly wriggle back into your cave with the other hominids.
A century ago, clitorises used semaphore to signal their constantly changing location, but that was before heterosexuality was invented. They’ve given up now.
If you’re worried that you might be a vagina, swallow an egg vibrator. If you never find it again, you are, indeed, a vagina. Congratulations. Here’s a cupcake.
If you see a vulva in a medical book, immediately tear the page out. Vulvas are for licking in alphabet shapes as though they are clitorises, and not for appearing in Grey’s Anatomy.