Perhaps I Should Have Been More Specific
Ms. Uterus appears to have a definite death wish, for, while acquiescing to my recent request to stop with the mutherfocking cramps, already, she upped the ante by tricking me into thinking that she was done um…processing the by-product of this month’s non-conception…only to reopen the floodgates and catch me ill-prepared. I’m ninety-nine percent certain that it is her way of blowing raspberries at my recent ultimatum to which I say ha! I’ll show you, missy! I’ll yank you out of there so fast the fallopian tubes will issue a missing organ report.
Ok, ok! You totally called my bluff; we all know that I wouldn’t go willingly under the knife to have you removed, I AM somewhat attached to you. After all, you did nurture the Girl and the Man-Cub for nine months and, you haven’t really given me THAT much trouble lo these twenty-five years of our menstruating partnership. So. I am trumped and must beg for a truce. I’ll make no more demands on you, Ms. Uterus save one; show mercy.
Also, if you could put in a good word for me with Mr. Esophagus, I would be totally indebted to you; this recent heartburn is KILLING me.
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