Let me tell you a tale of a close friend of mine named Angry Vagina. One sexually frustrated day, she decides to join a mobile dating app against her better judgment. Dared to participate by a Penis Custodian friend of hers (technically not bangable because of "nobody's fucking business") she is unable to resist the challenge and so opens herself widely and blissfully to the possibilities.
Thus we begin our story of the legendary Angry V as she downloads the app onto Rose-Goldie the iphone, inserting her 6 finest photos including a superstar headlining image as featured below.
Given limited space to articulate her greatness, she is then compelled to condense her epic biography into a few boner-inducing lines and completes her profile to perfection. And almost like magic, mushroom-head owners ready for inspection immediately appear on her feed.
Per dating app rules, Angry Vagina must swipe left if a specimen makes her dry as a piece of sandpaper or otherwise disgusts her. Alternatively she must swipe right if she wants to play with the new shaft in question.
Below we have the privilege of observing her stream of consciousness as she sifts through the influx of moping scarecrows with her iphone.
Would I bang that guy? No. (Swipes left)
Would I bang that guy? No. (Swipes left)
Would I bang that guy? No. (Swipes left)
Would I bang that guy? Maybe. Umm.
No. (Swipes left.)
(Pauses.)
Remembering the meaningful fairy tales of her youth, Angry Vagina suddenly feels guilty for being so shallow and lends more soul to her "swipage" as she continues her search for Prince Charming.
Behold! Me is new princess nameth "Might-As-Well-Be-Sleeping Beauty". I hath spoken.
(Angry V thus reinvents the fairy tale dating narrative, but this time in the style of Rapunzel. Armed with boner instead of sword, Prince slays poverty dragon in order to buy expensive iphone. He now climbs enchanted rope of cyber pubic hair, ascends dating-app tower. At climax of tower, Angry V shoves him off dating-app-profile balcony in Disney singsong voice . . .)
Short guy near small dog. Pretends to be tall. (Swipes left)
Bike guy loves spandex. Balls not big enough. Please mount bicycle instead of woman. (Swipes left)
Wealth listed in profile. Congratulations! Buy thyself rubber vagina. (Swipes left)
Too young. Like teenager. Premature spooge likely. (Swipes left.)
Why so bald all the time? (Swipes left)
"Entrepreneur". No unemployed guys allowed. (Swipes left)
Cat hater?! (Swipes left, punches phone in face, inserts profile pic of one-true-love "Kitteh".)
(Continuing as if addicted.)
Software engineer pretending to be interesting rockstar. ::Cackles:: (Swipes left)
Nice abs. Avoid butterface during bang sesh? Meh. (Swipes left)
Too much beard. Facial forest outcompete old growth forest of Angry Vagina. (Swipes left)
Gym selfies only? How 'bout penis pushups. (Swipes left)
Oooooh! Someone is hat enthusiast. Must be covering bald spot. (Swipes left)
You live WHERE? Or is that where you park your car . . . (Swipes left)
Wow you like sports? Fascinating. One of kind. Time to delete dating app and get married. (Swipes left)
You like to SEXT? Where is middle finger emoji . . . (Swipes left)
Shows himself in photo next to hotter guy. Dumbass. (Swipes left)
Claims to be ambitious but is a personal trainer. (Swipes left)
Kids? Lady boner dead. (Swipes left)
Listed as "director" on profile. Of what? Angry Vagina's irritation? (Swipes left)
No profile details. Hail to one pic of acne-prone skin. Let me go ahead and throw legs open for you now. (Swipes left)
Proud vegan with photo of live cucumber. Penis likely shriveled and starving for protein. I'll take Mr. Cucumber. (Swipes left)
Whaaaat. Now they're giving me women. Swiping left too fast? (Swipes left more slowly)
(Angry Vagina takes break to contact best friend "Nongay Wife" for sentimental words via text.)
"Nongay Wife, I am leading the chosen people (otherwise known as Kitteh) through the desert like Moses. Searching to find water or Penis Custodian. I do not know if I will survive. Please send help."
(Waits for reply and continues quest.)
Oh no! Swiped right by accident! Fuuuuuck! Undo? Undo? No? Not allowed? Fuuuuuck. Hate that ugly guy thinks he is liked. Fuuuuuck.
(New inspiration.) Left-swipage is slowly killing spirit. Must resort to self-swipage for healing . . . (Angry Vagina takes impromptu break. Wasn't ready to return to penis desert anyway.)
(Short while later, back on phone app like lab animal.)
Trump supporter. Kind of cute. Can't. Let. Him. Reproduce! (Swipes left)
Nipples pointier than mine. (Swipes left)
CEO of something? How many unemployed guys are there? (Swipes left)
Yes! Long hair good. Lady-boner says hi. (Swipes right)
Hair too long. Homeless man. (Swipes left)
College student. Poverty lethal to ladyboner. . . must swipe before too late . . . (Swipes left)
Looks 8 months pregnant with Budweiser. (Swipes left)
Group shot with females! Trying to convince me they like you. (Swipes left)
Self-employed hot guy. Will not bang you in parents' basement. (Swipes left)
Lots of sharp teeth. Might also have pointy penis. Like carrot with foreskin. Terrifying. (Swipes left)
Pretty sure each pic on your profile is of different guy. Angry Vagina is confused. (Swipes left)
Weird smiley face. Looks too happy. Probably serial killer. (Swipes left)
Hot guy great body. Boring personality and job. Swipe left, Angry V, swipe l . . . (Swipes right)
Over 40 never married. Lonely selfish guy. 50-50 if good in sack. Meh. (Swipes left)
Thank you for sharing height. I know everything I need to know. Bless you. (Swipes left)
Oh no! Phone dying! Must swipe left! Must. Reject. More. Mushroom-head-
And just like that, Angry Vagina has to call it quits for the day until a phone charger can be found. Just for now.
Theoretically, the forced downtime will allow new shaft prospects the opportunity to swipe right on her profile now, indicating their delusional hope of banging her. Most will never matter. But when her own chosen "right-swipes" return the favor, otherwise known as the "mutual match", the plot thickens.
Patience, Angry V, Patience.
To be continued . . .
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