I was talking to Sarah on the phone the other day and somehow we came to the topic of The Vagina Monologues. When I say somehow, you have to bear in mind that linear thought processing goes right out the window when we talk, and our conversations are so circuitous that in the span of five minutes we can cover children, cheese, nipple hair, and of course the obvious segue into the merits of super delegates.
So when one of us mentioned The Vagina Monologues Sarah said she used to hate hearing that title when it first came out. Every time someone would say Vagina and Monologue together, she would picture a giant vagina on the stage.
"With a stool and a mike?"
"No. Just the vagina."
"On its side or more, you know, vertical?"
"On its side, definitely."
"Would it have to pause and pick a hair out of its mouth?"