We've written rather extensively on the month's Elle, but there is a meta elephant in the room we've been ignoring because, well duh. It's about what happens to your vagina during childbirth, and it's called "Ring of Fire," apparently an oft-used term for what happens during those final moments before the baby's head rips through your vadge. An additional, uh, "elephant" is that the author obviously read The Rachel Papers, the requisite horrifying exchange we've excerpted after the jump. But anyway. Author claims her vadge returns to something approaching normalcy and that sex is now good. Hm. Okay, so if you want to get married and have kids, you probably believe it's possible for sex to remain good and normal and lusty years into marriage. And it is. Maybe your parents did. Maybe you know one of those women who outrageously got pregnant again, like, right after the first baby came. My grandmother had seven kids and four miscarriages. I don't think she breastfed. I wasn't fucking breast fed, but my brother and sister were, and they're the ones who got all the allergies…
My best college friend, the one who got married in Israel, she's apparently breastfeeding. I just got an email about the kid. 10 POUNDS 2 OUNCES?? Oh, phew…C-section. What's so wrong with C-sections anyway? What's so wrong with baby formula? French women supposedly smoke throughout pregnancy so their babies will be smaller. True story. Not that that keeps French men from fucking around on their wives. But the women, they fuck around too. Maybe they have more options what with their preserved vaginas? Maybe it's all just really fucking hard. Maybe this is why dick size is so important, even though it's not, not now anyway. Maybe dying alone is just fine.
Okay, and maybe British men all have really small cocks and that would be the problem here.
"Have you ever fucked a tart who's had a kid?"
He didn't hear and turned to me mouth ajar. I shook my head." Well I…" He zig-zagged crazily, squeezed between a taxi and a newspaper van, and drifted two-wheeled up queensway.
"Well I fucking have, and it's no joke. Don't know you're there."
"Like waving a flag in space.
"Their guts flop, too. Jen'll be okay for one, maybe more.
"I said she could adopt some, but tarts like having babies.
"Their cunts…" He flicked off the heater. "Turn to mush."
We pulled away
"Smell of bad milk. And they hang. Pancake tits."
"Jungle tits. But I thought, Fuck it. Jen's all right. Firm. And I don't fuck her that much now."