AND THE TALE WAS TOLD among the Uteri. We are bloggers, fair tellers of tales fair and foul here in varied Vaginastan. Are there not men who tell tales told of hearth and home and where they roam perhaps to Rome and back and forth who might know to wipe front to back, but also with wit wipe the smarmy smiles of the faces of fools? Where are the blogger men?
SOME IN VAGINASTAN were puzzled? And the Uteri remarked of the tribe of Peni, all of whom were men. The Peni take up the sword, but know even mightier is the pen. Why are there no bloggers labeled "men?" The blogger women laughed and frolicked in serious ways unknown to the Peni. If there were "blogger women," why were there not also "blogger men?"
And it came to pass when the bush was burning, burning down the house of white that the Uteri, the tribe of Vaginastan, were then most distressed. Out of the dark past and past the prick of conscience came the prick that cares who comes comes with whom and when and how and why. It was the prick that comes with crack law credentials at the crack of doom. Coming now was one who cares more for the benefit of the bodies of the corp more than for the bodies of the Uteri women
The bush that was burning down, burning down the house of white flamed higher so all might forget the fallen Libby and the never risen Miers. Out of the flames sudden burst Sam, the one of tribe of the Peni now known as Scalito.
And Scalito who some said was sharper than a legal stiletto did not utter the infamous words to the Uteri so many had shouted from the provinces of Penistan before him. The bush that was burning down, burning down the house of white instead did instead insist: All your uteri are belong to us.
And the tribe of Uteri from near and far Vaginastan did rise up as one (but each distinct and beautiful, each in her own way) and said to the dick that was a burning bush: No. No, our uteri is belong to we. And the less polite of the Uteri, the ones more uppity than most may have added something like: Shut the f*ck up. Such is the stuff of legend.
And It Came To Pass that the days of legend that were rumored might soon be fulfilled. In the year of the 0 and 8, The Era of Error might finally end by election of the most Elect of the Uteri. [story]
From The Clan of Dick that was Nixon one dark and tall would step forward and from the clan of a dick that was Clinton one more short if not more fair would jump. From afar would be heard the wailing of wonks in far Wankistan, the province of Penistan least loved by the Uteri.
The Peni Then Would Know the power of the tribe of the Uteri, proud residents all of Vaginastan. But would the Wankers and Wonks be ruled by election of the would be conqueror Uteri called Condi or would they be ruled by the damned dem dame Hillari?
And There Arose Among The Tribe Of The Uteri A Legend of the unreal Uteri [story]. The Peni who could not order the Uteri about did what some Peni always wanted. These Peni would mail order Uteri, if no other orders could be had. They would charge true Uteri with witchcraft. The hand made Unreal Uteri they would charge by cards Visa and Master. Such hand crafted handmaidens would replace their own jobs by hand.
Within The Province Of Penistan which claims the land of the Uteri as their own, there lived the tribe of the wanton Wankers, the most odious, onanistic of the Peni who dwelled then in Wankistan. They walked as they wanked and wanked as they walked. All was wanking in Wankistan until the Unreal Uteri were delivered among them. Then there was no talking, only much wanking.
And Within The Tribe of the Uteri a cry went up when the prophecy of Atwood might come true. Now it came to pass in Indiana, which the Peni claim as a confederate state of Penistan whereas the Uteri know it as a now lost province of Vaginastan. Lost it is and the land bleeds. Those who have had periods now speak with queston marks and exclamation points. One of their own was found acting like a real colon. Children And Women and those one and the same, in Indiana a lawmaker rose up and spoke. One of the Uteri she was and remains. And she declared some Uteri are more equal than others. Only some of the Uteri shall now be allowed to be mothers.
Kos, the recently and freely elected King of Penistan, only has the most kindly thoughts for the tribe of Uteri. While the Uteri may think themselves proud citizens of an indepedent Vaginastan, kindly King Kos knows you are but the misguided children of a province of a greater Penistan. All praise to mighty Kos as he swings heaven's hammer.
With the power of right given to “the left,” kindly and all knowing King Kos shall take heaven’s hammer and a mighty big tent erect with his most excellent exertions. Many a pole will hold up this great tent for all of Penistan to take comfort in, both the Uteri and the Peni. But some of the poles should be acknowledged by all as larger and more important than others.