“Murky Depths of My Vag”: Jenna B. is the new Lena Chen, but anonymous and extra-icky
Looking to fill the void in your voyeuristic reading routine now that Sex and the Ivy is gone? The Cornell Sun would like you to meet “Jenna B.,” their anonymous biweekly sex columnist:
Twentyish dudes ago … my first sexual endeavor concluded with a condom floating around lost inside my body for two days.
Thinking back to the glorious moment when the rubbery, slimy souvenir surfaced from the murky depths of my vag a couple of mornings after the incident (putting a stop to the nightmares in which I gave birth to a baby who had this condom growing out of its face in place of a nose), I wish I’d had the presence of mind to throw the thing in a jar and save it. … On second thought, I’m glad I didn’t save it; it was kind of stinky.
Is that even possible? Superhuman physical feats aside, Jenna B. has hopped on the latest of Ivy daily trends: Uncomfortably vivid and rhapsodically grotesque descriptions of vaginas. You could make a whole college tour out of various campuses’ vagina metaphors of choice! Yale likes its pie served with papayas, while Dartmouth dines on sugarbush, and Cornell… well…
When you have sex, air gets pushed up into the honey pot and little pockets of it sometimes get trapped up there. As we learned from the lost condom, what goes up must come out. In the case of a queef, the air makes an exquisite Whoopie Cushion sort of noise when it exits the juicer. The air is completely fragrance-free, so you and your partner can have a nice little laugh about it.
Now, why would a writer want anonymity for that?
