No, the Karen in that scenario is the implied snitch. That line is saying something like, “are you a young POC just minding your own fucking business in your apartment when you keep catching that damn white lady sticking her head around the balcony divider to peer into your place and listen to your conversations, trying to catch you doing something wrong? We’ll tell you what your rights to privacy are”

If you knew that’s what it meant and you were actually saying don’t snitch on the racist white lady for spying or her Black neighbors or whatever though…well we just won’t ever be friends I guess.

I’m going to share some truths here, like some detailed scientific truths about all that, and it’s stuff everybody should know. And you can trust me; I’ve been in the business of doing it (er, not the literal “business” of doing it…well not the whole time, anyway) for almost 25 years now.

Here’s one very valuable thing to know: the average depth of a vagina is around 4-5 inches. If you’re really long, (and even just 6" can be “really long” for shallower vaginal depths) you can easily go too deep during vaginal sex and hit our cervix, which can REALLY hurt.

One past partner of mine in particular had over 9 inches, and there were a few positions we tried that I could do with others but we couldn’t do because it just made him hit too deep and it hurt.

So, more length in inches, even when women think they want that, it’s not necessary after a certain, close to average amount of inches.

Now, when it comes to girth, that’s a different story. But a bit more on that in a second; I need to explain something about vaginas first:

So, although the notion that vaginas “loosen” over time with repeated use is a complete myth, a spectrum of natural tightness for vaginas does exist. It relates to female bone structure around the hips and pelvis. The bones can spread/flare out more, or be closer together. A woman with a natural thigh gap, for example, is an example of more far apart bones, meaning less natural tightness in her pussy.

…which makes it kind of funny that thigh gaps were a beauty trend all women seemed to want for a while. Vindication for any woman reading this that beat herself up back then for failing to develop a thigh gap after trying so hard to. Now you know, not your fault, it was your super tight pussy getting in the way!😉

Ok, now back to chodes! You see, since some vaginas are naturally less tight, in order to achieve a comparable amount of stimulation to a woman who is tighter, the only statisDick that matters in her case is girth, not length. A 4 inch dick that’s really thick versus a 9 inch dick that isn’t, whem it comes to this woman, the 4 inch would provide better stimulation!

But don’t despair if yours is not super girthy though, because like I mentioned there are naturally extra tight vaginas out there that an average girth is totally enough for. I should know. 😛

Hahaha amazing!!!

I feel now like my language choices before…perhaps they made it sound like I wanted my cat to bring me just the dicks, no man attached to them, haha, but no. It was just a synecdoche, having the man be represented by a dick, lol. Like how people call their car their “wheels” though wheels aren’t the whole car. Or more directly how men might say they’re going out to try and get some p***y, when they mean an entire woman.

And of course men have other parts to themselves thatcI appreciate. Take legs for example- pants require legs so they can be worn, and pants are where the wallet pocket hangs! Legs are also essential for getting them to leave my place when we’re done. 😎 (So joking, I promise. I’m not really like this at all. 😂).

All this time in life wasted though, only ever engaging with the permanently-attached-to-a-peron ones of these (silicone not withstanding). I just didn’t know there was another option!

Could you imagine something like this scene playing out though: say a guy shells out for a cool new surgery to make his penis detachable. Its a success! He goes to see his girl later, when it’s all healed up. Soon after the girl’s upset and starts yelling at this guy she’s dating, because he was getting a bit too handsy and she was really trying to have a serious conversation with him.

She’s like, “COULD YOU PLEASE, like just this once, STOP THINKING WITH YOUR GODDAMN F-ING DICK so we can actually TALK about what’s going on with us?”.

Then to her surprise he’s just like, “sure”, then he reaches down into his shorts, detaches his detachable penis, and pulls it out for her to see it for first time detached. You know, the pull out method.😂

Would she be stoked or horrified I wonder?

If this were a comment on my social media to answer…well first of all I would have to clarify with them “you must mean my second broken engagement, right? The first one happened before Facebook, back in 2005, but we had MySpace then I think, but still, you mean 2024?”.

"Well, see what happened in 2024 was, August 17th we were supposed to be wed. I picked the anniversary of my best friend’s death for our wedding date as a way of making her a part of it, and also as a way to bring some joy to what used to be the worst day of the year. Now it’ll be our wedding anniversary ever year! We can party!

Come August 13th though, my fiancés struggle with meth addiction/psychosis took the wheel again, and drove him off into outer space.

He dumped me on his way off the planet though, because apparently (and I quote), “we can’t be together because there is a woman waiting in the states for me to go breed with her, so I can pass on my super powers. I would have tried with you, but you’re too old.”

Haha, omg. Steal my last few years of good fetility then call me too old to have a kid like I’ve always wanted to, like I made sure you wanted to before i even agreed to start this relationship, that we used to always daydream about, that we made plans for including picking out a name, until you changed your mind out of nowhere one day, and now you’re saying this “too old” shit to me while you’re in the process of leaving me at the fucking altar, essentially? Wow.

And now, you might have expected that this cruel quote of his would be the craziest part of this story. It’s not. The crazier part is this: I had just taken that motherfucker back!!

Just a month ago, we got back together. In retrospect, what would follow should not have been a surprise, but… we only got to spend like 2 weeks together as a couple before his next relapse/psychotic break would disappear him from my life again. Haven’t heard a peep from him in 2 weeks now. No idea where he is or if he’s ok. No idea if he’s even alive.

And I was the genius who said, “sure, I’ll trust you one more time”.

That’s what happened."

When I was in my 20s I took a couple trips clear across the states on the Greyhound, seeing 35 different states and countless famous US cities.

There were so many times I would be staring out the bus window though and Tim Armstrong from Rancid’s voice would pop into by head to sing this one piece of a line from the song Travie Bickle that I think of all the time when I’m away from home, because in all my personal travels so far, he has never not been right. It’s simply:

“…every city looks the fucking same.”

And it sure does.

Like this one time…I’d been on the road 3 straight days when I looked outside and…we hadn’t even left the PNW yet? Oh no wait, those vintage, dark-colored exterior brick walls that I thought were screaming ‘craft brew’, were actually going ‘choo choo’. This isnt Portland goddammit. We made it all the way to Pittsburgh!

Or my first time in LA, I started to feel weirdly at home just after nightfall. Did I actually portal home somehow, I wondered? No. Venice Beach and English Bay (Vancouver) were in fact always the exact same place. I just couldn’t see it until the smog stopped blocking the view.

Another time, I went for a quick wander through Seattle during a layover on the bus, to find a bank and exchange more CAD into USD. I’m trying to think of where I’ve seen them around here on earlier trips except…wait…I’m not familiar with this part of Seattle because we are in Nashville and I’ve never been to Nashville before today.

Or the time I got to walk around Chicago for a couple hours. At first I’m bracing for strangers to stop me and share all their racist/anti LGBTQIA+ opinions and stuff with me, then I thankfully remember…that’s the L train up there, not the absolutely fucking identical raised LRT track in Edmonton.

Oh and Fargo! Fargo looks like…it looks like I broke a promise to myself because I’m somehow back in ND again?! How did I get here when I swore…NEVER. NEVER again! Er, I mean Fargo looks a little like Olympia, WA, but a LOT like a town south of me growing up on Vancouver Island; a town called Nanaimo. Famous for a dessert square and nothing else.

So yeah, every city looks the fucking same. That’s the apathetic harumph of my exhausted, jaded inner traveler who still kinda wishes they were going places, but they’re also just kinda over a lot of them.

My ‘every city looks the fucking same’ seemed very similar, in the moment to your “…yeah. That place…exists.” 😂 That’s the whole reason I rambled on to the ridiculous length of this comment, just to relate the experience of my line to the feel of that line of yours.

I sooo get it.

There’s only ONE?! Wow I’m apparently doing way better in life than I thought.

My cat Lucy likes to catch mice outside, bring them inside to show me so she can show off her skills, and then accidentally let them go so it falls on me to handle them.

And I mean…it sucks when we’re talking actual mice but like…the other thing… I really wouldn’t complain at this point if they were to…fall on me to handle 😂

'Cause tbh, I haven’t seen one of those hanging out in my bedroom for way too long. And if the cat could just catch them and bring them to me? I could delete all the apps. Dream come true.

I was going to say ‘lesbians’ but…this ad is also for a hot dog by the same name, so lesbians might actually love a big boner too, they just won’t know unless they try one, right? Be sure to tell all your lesbian friends that. They might “relish” a big boner in their mouth, afterall.

Oh but hey, I know who would not love a big boner for sure, no matter how you slice it (though I hope you don’t slice your big boners at all fellas; yikes!). Vegan lesbians! Veganism + Lesbianism = double boner killer. BOOM, solved it.

So offensive, their clocks hanging out for all to see.