I wrote this on 10/10/2016. I offer it here uncensored and without any modification. It was a reaction piece, written within a few hours, and I have decided not to edit or rewrite it. I hope you enjoy it. By the way, irony is a Greek word! So is democracy! And comedy! (God, maybe Mr. Portokalos in “My Big Fat Greek wedding” was right after all!)
Dear Donald, where have you been my whole life? I came on this earth a bit over X (coughing sound) years ago, and I have been wandering around aimless, clueless, with a thing between my legs that has caused me more confusion and a bigger sense of bewilderment than the finale of Lost; a series which was taking off just around the same time you were caught on tape uttering the phrases that were bound to shed light on my existence and finally give my life the meaning it lacked and longed for.
From the moment I started discovering things about myself and the world around me, a question so persistent it left me restless and sleepless kept probing my (smaller than a man’s of course) brain: what am I supposed to do with this smelly, hairy, once a month bleeding, good-for-nothing of a pussy? I had no idea what its mission on earth was, how it was supposed to achieve self-fulfillment and, hence, my entire being felt purposeless and I’ve spent the best part of my f*ckable years sunk in despair and depression.
Don’t get me wrong; I did try to provide my vagina with opportunities to be properly used by its male counterparts. I’ve been on numerous dates with men, but most of them invited me out for dinner, while some even wanted to take me to the movies. How gay is that? I’ve also spent countless nights at bars sipping cocktails with my girlfriends, only to have more losers offer to buy me drinks. What a disgrace! Really, my pussy is right there you guys, just grab it already!
The truth is that before hearing Donald Trump speak those liberating words to Billy Bush, I had no idea that what I mostly wanted in life was for a man to come and grab me by the pussy, (or to grab me by the pussy and then come; it works both ways). Up until recently, I was under the false impression that my vagina was entitled to its own choices. Alas, I was mistaken! Thanks to Mr. Donald J. Trump, I realized that if I am not being objectified by a man (the more disgusting the better), I am nothing. As is the case with all women, male gaze is the only thing that gives meaning to my shallow existence. Besides, what is the real reason we spend all those years cutting down on carbs, doing Pilates or going to business school, if not to achieve self-validation through male approval?
This is why I find the public outrage Mr. Trump has been facing these last few days slightly hypocritical. Personally, I would like to express my deepest gratitude to the man who finally answered one of life’s biggest questions: “Why are vaginas created?” Answer: “To serve as penis orgasm providers”. (Female orgasm is overrated. If it were equally important to male orgasm, it wouldn’t be so hard to reach.)
So to all the women who got offended by the Republican candidate’s remarks, I have to say the following: quit whining. A man wants to put his thing inside you and you’re playing hard to get? Do you think that men will want to take you furniture shopping forever? There will come a time when no man will feel compelled to use tic tacs around you and then, you will reminisce about Donald Trump’s small hands and oh the places they’ve been. After all, Donald Trump is also just a dick, standing in front of a pussy, asking it to love him. And in all sincerity, isn’t it more manly if he doesn’t even ask?
Make America a great country for all aspiring pussy-grabbers, not just for the rich and famous. And make it a great country for all the biologically programmed dick-holders: us women. At last, change is imminent! When Trump spoke against Mexicans, Muslims, African-Americans, refugees, and gays, thousands of people who until recently repressed their deplorable beliefs in the face of society, now parade them shamelessly, eager to make their respected enemy bend over and “have it”. Thus, I feel confident that all men – whether they are jerks watching porn at their parents’ basement or in a position of authority gaining satisfaction by imposing themselves on women without their consent – will join the could-be Commander-in-Chief in grabbing all attractive women by the pussy and helping them fulfill their earthly mission. (Non-attractive women should be banned from sight, as they kill the mood.)
I hope I won’t have to wait long before my lady parts are grossly attacked by a dick, as I fear my vagina’s glory days are about to end. Because as Mr. Trump has helped me realize, the day no man will want to grab me by the pussy will be the day my life will lose all meaning.