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admin | Get Rid Of Bacterial Infection | 25.09.2015
We did our own research into the lexical world of VAGINA, and this produced some interesting results.
The fact that Republicans are trying to legislate something they are unwilling to even say adds extra layers of hilarity to VAGINAgate. In a world conspicuously devoid of adverts for wiener cleaner, it’s a bit disconcerting to see ‘Woo hoo for my froo froo!’ posted on the side of telephone boxes throughout the country. Such terms are perhaps just about acceptable when you have a little girl with a tricycle injury and don’t want her uttering the C-bomb.
The problem with euphemising the term ‘VAGINA’ is that it takes serious discussion of them off to the menu. Of course, the implication that you can’t really love your VAGINA unless you use a certain product is deeply impertinent. Until they finally realised that it annihilated everything good inside your flange, douching that made you smell detergent-like was an incredibly popular activity, promoted mostly by VAGINA-haters in the US. In light of this, it’s of utmost importance that you learn to call your VAGINA what it is, and furthermore, accept it in its natural state.
Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett and Holly Baxter are co-founders and editors of online magazine, The Vagenda.
Between pro-Kremlin hacks recording our conversations and the circling helicopters, things in Russia were starting to echo old norms.
The first time I sat in Red Square watching a parade to mark the Russian victory over Germany at the end of the Second World War (with no mention of Britain or America, of course) was in 1978.
At this year’s parade, held on Monday, the missiles and tanks were very much of the 21st century.
As it happened, I had seen Putin on a television screen a few days earlier, in a rather different setting.
The concert was over almost as soon as it began, lasting little more than 15 minutes from start to finish.
As a public relations concept it was breathtakingly risky: 30 or so of the world’s most renowned musicians, including Putin’s close personal friend Sergei Roldugin (the cellist who, if the Panama Papers are to be believed, seems to know what happened to a good slice of the money involved in the scandal). On the way in, a group of armoured vehicles and a couple of circling helicopters bristling with guns accompanied our convoy. As for the concert itself, I’m sure the television audience across Russia, for whom the whole thing was devised and who saw it in an edited version, assumed it lasted as long as concerts normally do.
Apart from the journalists, Russian and not, the audience consisted of a large number of Russian soldiers, a smaller number of Syrian troops and a selection of bemused but friendly locals. I made the point in my broadcast from the theatre that propaganda seemed to be the sole purpose of the event, regardless of the unquestioned success of the Russians and Syrians in retaking Palmyra. It was rather a let-down when it became obvious that there wouldn’t be time on our short trip for such a Maoist-sounding criticism session.
At one point, at least half an hour before we finished broadcasting, a PR captain announced that it was time to leave. There were pro-Kremlin hacks from eastern Europe in our group who seemed surprisingly interested in what my colleagues and I said to each other, and sometimes they recorded our conversations. An earlier generation of reporters would have called them stool pigeons; now, sadly, quite a lot of ideas and expressions from the old days are coming back. John Simpson is World Affairs Editor of BBC News, having worked for the corporation since the beginning of his career in 1970.


How to get cat urine smell out of christmas tree?, How to get cat urine smell out of christmas tree? How to get rid of cat odors outside - pets, How to get rid of cat odors a cat uses little spritzes of his urine to mark his territory, be it a tree, the cat health guide: getting rid of cat urine. Perhaps because our VAGINAS, especially those of our American sisters are, much like Stalingrad, increasingly under siege (Stalingrad is another euphemism for VAGINA).
The feminist backlash to the suggestion of transvaginal probes involved women inundating Senator Ryan McDoogle’s Facebook page with detailed information about their lady bits.
From the Inga Muscio classic Cunt: A Declaration of Independence to Dr Catherine Blackledge’s The Story of V, to Caitlin Moran’s How to Be a Woman, women have been trying to wrestle their vaginas out of male hands and away from male terms which don’t belong to us for ages now. Half the population carry them around in their pants without freaking out, yet if VAGINAS were supposed to complement the saccharine, flower-gathering view of everyday women by smelling like a lavender patch, they would. VAGINAS are a wonderful arrangement of flaps capable of the most magnificent things, just as God, in Her infinite wisdom, intended. Leonid Brezhnev appeared with a bunch of other ancients, hunched at slight angles, hats jammed on heads as a precaution against the wind, peering out from the saluting base of Lenin’s tomb. There was a phalanx of servicewomen in white uniforms, each smiling from ear to ear (you didn’t see that in 1978) as a bunch of SU-25 dive-bombers flew overhead, trailed by patriotic lines of white, blue and red vapour. Together with a hundred or so other journalists, a few of them from the West, I visited the incomparable Roman theatre at Palmyra, Syria.
The orchestra had travelled eight hours by plane from Moscow to the Russian military base near Latakia, in western Syria, followed by another seven hours by coach from there to Palmyra.
They were joined by a larger number of admittedly more expendable journalists, the whole crew escorted halfway across Syria from west to east in the middle of a civil war. On the way back, the driver of our coach, a Syrian, was often on the point of falling asleep. But the people sitting on the hard, if time-worn, marble seats of the theatre were likely only too glad to see it end so quickly. None were seasoned concert-goers: just about everyone clapped between the movements in Prokofiev’s Classical Symphony, the only long piece the orchestra played.
At a time when things in Russia generally seem to be regressing, most of our minders were surprisingly understanding.
Like the hardware on show at Red Square on Victory Day, they’ve just been streamlined and upgraded.
He has reported from more than 120 countries, including 30 war zones, and interviewed many world leaders.
State representative Lisa Brown hilariously offended some Republicans last week when she had the temerity to utter the word during a ridiculously euphemistic debate about female contraception and abortion. The fact that ‘VAGINA’ is back with a vengeance can only be good in the face of patronising advertising such as the below, from a well-known feminine hygiene brand that we don’t care to publicise here. Celebrating because you got the right product to make your natural VAGINA less disgusting: not exactly the passive aggressive message we relish. The potential for hilarity (pastrami curtains, anyone?) has been eschewed in favour of prudishness. How on earth are we supposed to retain possession of them if we can’t even call them what they are? Lisa Brown being banned from saying "vagina", it's no wonder America were at the forefront (pun intended) of fanny denial.


Once you do that, you’ll realise that anyone who says otherwise is most likely a DOUCHEBAG.
With the ordinary people in the square marched one of the most popular leaders in the world – if you believe the kind of surveys that record such opinions.
Putin greeted us over a live satellite link, and spent a great deal of time hailing Russia’s most recent military achievement: wrenching Palmyra from the bloodstained hands of Islamic State. The ratio of playing time to travel time must have been one of the most disproportionate in the Mariinsky’s 233-year history. My colleague Steve Rosenberg, the BBC’s correspondent in Moscow, had warned me that there was usually a naming-and-shaming session on these Russian army embeds to Syria: the regiment of listeners, viewers and readers in Russia and around the globe that the Kremlin seems to have recruited send back their instant responses, and the journalists on the trip are gathered and informed who has annoyed the Kremlin by reporting in unacceptable ways. The major general in charge of the PR operation was charming and jolly, and when I appealed to him to help us send our report by satellite he personally rang someone senior at Russian television and fixed it. The captain came back with the general himself, who listened to my yelling, soothed me, and promised that the whole convoy would leave Palmyra only when we were ready. We encountered two Italian exchange students who told us that the standard slang term for down there in Italy is ‘potato’ - a visual we’re finding it slightly difficult to get our heads around. They suggest a variety of terms, ranging from ‘mini’ to ‘twinkle’ to ‘hoo ha’, before uttering the immortal tagline ‘whatever you call it, make sure you love it.’ VOM.
The whole ‘froo froo’ shebang has led to an internet-wide speculation on how you should refer to your lady parts - with equally cutesy results.
Fundamentalist Christians are no better, as the online post ’51 Christian Friendly Terms For VAGINA’, which jokingly suggests such legends as ‘sin bucket’, ‘devil sponge’ and ‘neighbour of anus’, goes to show. Which is why it is of utmost importance that, if you can bring yourself to do it, you stop referring to your ‘la-la’ and start using the proper anatomical terminology. Pussy polishers that claim to say woo woo to your frou frou are just the natural extension of douching, which should have died a death before we even knew they did more harm than good.
He then introduced a distinctly surreal concert, given by the orchestra of the Mariinsky Theatre in St Petersburg, to celebrate the ancient city’s liberation. No doubt the same general would have given me a dressing down about the lack of objectivity in my reporting had the timing been right – but we all have to do what we’ve got to do. A schoolgirl, meanwhile, insisted that her mother referred to it as her ‘fairy’, which is just begging for years of psychoanalysis later in life when she realises that at the same age, she believed that a fairy took her teeth in exchange for money. The same happened to Texas Governor Rick Perry, who since deleting the posts became the lucky recipient of oodles of hand-knitted and crocheted VAGINAS. We wouldn’t go so far as to suggest that you inundate the Facebook page of that ‘feminine hygiene product’ (read: vagina perfume) with ‘VULVA’ posts, but here’s the link and a labelled diagram of the general area.
Shout it from your office cubicle, your freelancer’s Starbucks table, your library cubby hole (also a euphemism for VAGINA).
Finally - the mystery of where those milk teeth disappear to is solved (and with it, the origins of the possibly mythological disease ‘VAGINA dentata'). Then there was the viral video, ‘Republicans, Get in my VAGINA.’ VAGINAS are back, and they mean business.



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