Sometimes bad things happen to good people.
Some people go through life a victim of hate.
Some people get bad diseases while very young.
Some people’s parents throw them first period parties.
Apparently, we’re back in the goddamn Red Tent era where we high five girls with bloody hands for bleeding from their hoo-hoo-lands. That’s akin to having your mom watch your first time boning, or your dad rubbing your taint so you don’t tear during childbirth–not okay.
I can’t think of anything I’d rather celebrate less with my friends and family than my first period, or menarche, a horrifying term that Menarche Parties-R-Us has built their own goddamn industry around.
Party Ware Of Nightmares
Why don’t you just whip out some Diva Cups to drink cherry punch out of and really kick it off with a bang?
Abstinence is not even an unhealthy goal for these kinds of parties, because if you want to scare young girls about their twats, it’s with a party celebrating a monthly gross inconvenience.
What exactly does one take home in a Period Loot Bag? Bedazzled tampons made at craft time? Cookies that bleed when you bite into them? A pad with all your wishes and dreams written on it in glitter glue suspended in a puberty-dream catcher of tweenage angst?
No. Just shame. Pure, deep, undiluted shame.
Games Of Shame
Did anyone notice that the ‘free’ space is on the vagina there? Also that ‘PU’ takes up a space, in the most hilariously terrible juxtaposition of all time?
“PU 1: What is the name for the substance that leaks out of you when you’re not on your period!”
“It’s DISCHARGE! All I need is Colposcopy for the win!”
You want to know the fastest way to make Trivial Pursuit, already a terrible hate-game, even worse? Make it all about pubescent vaginas!
Welp, now I’m blocked from your work’s internet filter for out-of-context pedophilic statements.
What utter literal twattery is this? Why not “bust the hymen piñata” or “Red Tent, Red Tent, your Hell has just begun?” This is no way to teach any child a lesson about their no-no places.
“If you don’t pin them on right, they just look like painful and incurable uterine cysts, which is why Mommy never gave you a sister. Womanhood is so beautiful.”
Greeting Cards For The Soulless
What they don’t tell you at these goddamn menarche parties is that “publicly” in reference to your period is less magical and more, “Shit, why the hell did I wear khakis today? I could have sworn it wasn’t supposed to come for another couple of days. I guess I’ll just roll up some toilet paper and hope the Charmin levees hold.”
This card doubles as an ESPN promo for Off-Season Tennis.
From the makers of, “Check that lump, it’s probably cancer,” and “You look pale, are you sure you don’t have AIDS,” it’s PUBER-GREETINGS.
“Just go with the flow!” Tee-hee! Get it? Because your innocence and your blood will be flowin’ right into your pants when you get to experience all the joys of Menarche, such as: emotional roller coasters, wide-ass hips, acne, sweaty-ass pits, periods, weight gain, and huge-ass feet. Remember what the cups said, sweetie, PUBERTY ROCKS!
Here’s some Midol and a variety pack of Tampax. Knock your snatch out.
Am I crazy in thinking this is probably hurting girls more than helping? I’m all for education, but this is fucking weird. Did your parents do anything weird for you? Your school? Your girlfriends?– Favorite Comment From The Last Post: From Kelly: “My favorite “righters” are the ones who are convinced their right when they right the write words rong. And for a minute, I really thought this post was going to be about grammar. BUT I JUST MADE IT SO, SO I AM RIGHT, GODDAMMIT.”