Category Archives: cunts

Shit I cannot believe needs to be said: trans women are not shutting down discussion of vagina

Content warning: this post discusses transmisogyny and genitals

Today, I would like to talk about a particular transmisogynyistic trope which shows up with alarming frequency: apparently, trans women are trying to prevent cis women from talking about our genitalia.

As a cis woman, I’d like to take a moment to say it’s complete and patent bollocks. I have no idea of the origin of this meme, but it seems to be spouted mostly by transmisogynists–for example, non-Lambda-Award-nominee Alice Dreger perpetuated the trope while saying how one could be an ally to cis women (!).

Apparently, cis women are unable to talk about vulvas, vaginas, periods and so forth without being shut down by trans women. Except, er, no.

I initiated a project of writing to an anti-abortion MP with gory details about reproductive systems. If it were true that trans women were silencing fanny-talk, presumably they’d’ve sided with Nadine Dorries and declared the whole thing evil. Actually, trans women participated. And boys with wombs. And basically, women with all genital configurations and men with uteruses all kind of have a vested interest in reproductive health because the struggles of reproductive justice, bodily autonomy and transgender struggles are intrinsically related.

I have a tattoo, at the top of my spine, of an anatomically-correct, roughly life-sized clitoris. To me, it signifies two things. The first is that that’s a really sweet spot on me. The second is that medical science really fucking sucks, in that they didn’t discover that the clit was bloody enormous and pretty much anatomically indistinguishable from the penis under the skin–that they wanted to believe there was some sort of big difference between whether your genitals were an inny or an outy, beyond whether they were an inny or an outy. There’s a bonus third thing: it looks fucking cool, it’s a really nice shape.

Guess what? No trans woman has ever tried to flay that tattoo off my skin.

I livetweeted a fanny injury on twitter, and not a single trans woman told me to stfu. Instead, I got nothing but sympathy because ultimately any woman who’s had SRS, or is considering it, will have nothing but sympathy for a sore pussy.

Oh, and then there’s the whole bread thing. You know what I mean. If the TRANS WOMEN ARE SHUTTING DOWN FANNY TALK thing were true, one would expect that trans women would’ve been leading the charge in the bizarre anti-stavvers-bread fandom which seems to have sprung up. Except they… didn’t. There might have been an eyeroll or two, but to be quite honest, I’m pretty inured to eyerolls (especially regarding that) and it was nothing–nothing–compared to the outright hate and disgust which poured mostly from cis men, with a supporting wave of cis women.

I actually got a lot of support from trans women, and the demographic of people who have actually eaten the goddamn bread has included trans women and transfeminine people represented at way above population level (around 40% of people who have eaten it).

One can also add that if there is this huge conspiracy against cis women being able to talk about their minges, I should’ve had a lot of support from the cisterhood, and yet bizarrely there were precisely no lucrative New Statesman opportunities for me to talk about how silenced I’d been. To be honest, I expect that the cis media feminists were wholly grossed out, and not expressing how squicked they were was about as supportive as they’d get. They should probably get over their internalised misogyny there 😇

So, basically, I’ve blathered on about my cunt and never once been silenced by trans women. There’s a chance, maybe, that it’s because I’ve surrounded myself with trans women who are sycophants, although I doubt that it’s possible that literally every trans woman I have ever spoken to has received some memo to allow stavvers. Instead, I suggest that what’s going on here is that there is no grand pussy-censorship conspiracy. It’s just that those who perpetuate the meme are intellectually dishonest transmisogynists.

Actually, scratch that. They’re plain old misogynists, viewing women as just vaginas.

I talk about my cunt in purely personal terms because ultimately it’s purely personal to me. It might resonate with other women: some things do, some things don’t. That was probably the most important thing the Dear Nadine Dorries project taught me: that no two experiences are alike, that we’re diverse as people. Talking about a vaginal experience as though it would apply to everyone is an absolute nonsense. If you do that, I’ll fucking shout you down, too.

There’s no trans conspiracy to shut down general fanny talk, just acting as though owning a vagina is a universal experience of womanhood. Just acting as though having periods is a universal experience of womanhood. Just acting as though getting pregnant is a universal experience of womanhood.

Is it uncomfortable talking about your genitalia as your own genitalia, rather than a generalisable thing that all women share? Absofuckinglutely.  But it’s also the only honest way to do it. It’s so much easier if you pretend it’s a general thing that all women share that your cunt kind of smells like feet around your period, or that your pubes can grow to easily over two inches long is a universal female experience, or that one of your flaps is a different colour to the other and about three times bigger is totally something all women have: hell, it was easier typing these sentences with “your” rather than “my”. However, none of this is universal, generalisable or in any way pertinent to all, most, or even some women.

Talking about vaginas has its place, but let’s not pretend that experiences are generalisable across women or that the fanny itself if a thing which all women share.

So please, please, fellow cis women, let’s shout down the trans-women-are-shutting-down-pussy-talk meme wherever we see it. It does nobody any favours.


“Bathroom bills” terrify me far more than trans women having a wee

Content warning: this post discusses transmisogyny, transphobia and sexual violence

A bill that would empower people to inspect your genitals on demand came one step closer to being law across the pond yesterday. Calls for such legislation are becoming increasingly popular, because of transmisogyny.

How bathroom bills work is like this:

  1. People must use bathrooms that fit with their genitals.
  2. The ladies’ bathroom is actually for people with vaginas, the gents’ for people with penises.
  3. However, nobody is proposing changing the names of the bathrooms to make this clearer because they’re cissexist pigs.
  4. Anyway, it’s illegal for people with penises to use the ladies’ and people with vaginas to use the gents’
  5. ??????
  6. SOMEHOW END RAPE AND KEEP WOMEN SAFE

Make no mistake. The entire rationale behind bathroom bills is rooted in transmisogyny. It’s a neat little way of excluding trans women from public life by denying them access to the toilet. To sweeten the deal, such bills make things just a little bit easier for creeps and rapists.

This is presumably why many of the most vocal supporters of bathroom bill are the kind of crusty misogynist old white dude conservatives who also like to curb our reproductive rights and blame us for getting raped. They’re salivating over increased and legal access to grope and peek at women.

Ultimately, this is what such bathroom bills do. There’s no way of knowing what genitals someone has unless you have a pat or a shufti. All venue owners, bouncers, security guards and so forth need to do to demand access to your genitals under a bathroom bill is to say they suspect you’ve got the “wrong” genitals, and then it’s simply a case of expose yourself, or hold. The latter option is often unfeasible, because bodily functions need to happen. Essentially, they have given men a legal excuse for sexual assault.

The other impact of bathroom bills is it means there will definitely be men in the ladies’ toilets, because trans men need to wee too, and some of them will have genitalia that requires them to use the toilet for vaginas. Trans men have pointed this out on social media. This has some truly awful implications: it would actually make it easier for cis male perverts and rapists to access ladies’ toilets. Rather than having to go to the trouble of disguising themselves as trans women, they could just swan on into the ladies’ and say they’re trans men.

Essentially, bathroom bills increase the risk of sexual violence surrounding using the toilet, which, you’ll recognise, is the complete opposite of what any reasonable person would consider a good idea.

And yet there are self-identified feminists advocating for measures that can only raise one’s odds of being a victim. Their transmisogynistic bigotry has blinkered them to anything else. They prop up the deeply misogynistic conservative men, adding a veneer of feminism to a measure which literally exposes more women to sexual violence. Their bigotry is their weak spot: they’re so obsessed with what genitals a trans woman might or might not have, that all thought and reason flies out of the window.

Anybody who opposes sexual violence should be vocally opposed to bathroom bills, not cheering them on.

As a cis woman, bathroom bills terrify me, as all it takes is someone deciding my hairy arms mean I should have the contents of my knickers checked. I’m not even the primary target of these bills, nor would I be most at risk from the violences inherent in such bills. Those most at risk are, of course, trans women: it’s yet another avenue for increasing the risk of victimhood to a group who are already far more at risk of becoming victims of sexual or violent crimes.

It’s disappointing and infuriating to see anyone advocating for legalisation of sexual assault, which is the crux of what bathroom bills entail. Objectively, it’s going to be to pee with these panty police abroad than with trans women using the loo.

 


Proving myself: #cuntsourdough fougasse (that I fed to a party!)

IMAG0688

I’ve branched out in my vaginal baking adventures! The sourdough starter is still alive and well, and it’s been going into different types of bread. In advance of a party, I asked if people would like to try some of my bread. Since there was a little bit of excitement over that, I decided to do something special, and baked a fanny fougasse. Two fanny fougasses, in fact.

Patrons on my Patreon get exclusive access to the recipe, more pictures, and the reaction to this next step on my baking adventure. If you want to get outraged, you’re going to have to pay!

Find out more about fanny fougasse!


Cervical Cancer Prevention Week: what’s a smear test like?

Content warning: this post discusses medical procedures performed on vaginas

This week is Cervical Cancer Prevention Week, so let me start by saying if you have a cervix and haven’t had a smear test in the last three years (or you’re over 25 and have never had one), book yours now. Sometimes you won’t always get the reminder letters–this seems to especially be an issue for trans men (GP surgeries often only bother sending the letters out to those marked “female” on their records). So, get your test.

Smear tests, from my own personal experience, are fucking unpleasant. I’ve had three now, and it’s grim, but the worst of it quick. My experience is entirely with GP surgeries, although some sexual health clinics also do smears. It goes a little bit like this:

Booking:  You need to book your smear test for a day you’re not on your period. My surgery likes it two weeks from the first day of your period, although that’s not set in stone. What they want most of all is for you not to be bleeding out of your cervix while they’re trying to swab it.

For me, booking a date isn’t difficult, because my periods are regular as clockwork thanks to the combined pill. If you’re lucky enough not to have periods, then book for whenever the hell you want. If you’re irregular, I would suggest calling up to book your appointment on the first day of your period, so they can schedule it for exactly two weeks’ time, which saves you having to faff about with calendars, apps and ouija boards to work out when’s good.

Preparation: Some people like to make their cunts look nice for their smear tests, by shaving or waxing. This is strictly optional, and unnecessary. Nonetheless, if hair removal is something you like to do, there’s no harm doing it either.

Don’t wash with soap or special fanny soap or apply special fanny perfumes before your smear tests. Not because it will fuck up the test result, but because you don’t need that shit anyway. Your cunt is self-cleaning, and almost certainly smells fine.

Personally, I’ve never bothered with hair removal. Before my last smear test, though, I decided to apply conditioner to my pubes to make them nice and soft–this is something I sometimes do before dates or orgies, too. Unfortunately, on this occasion, the conditioner I used was smoothing conditioner. Do you know what this does to pubes? It straightens them. And so I turned up at my smear test with a bush that looked exactly like Vegeta. The nurse, being a well-trained NHS worker was too polite to comment, and while I cringed, I know she’s probably seen weirder.

Before the test: Before the nurse does the test, they’ll sit down with you and have a quick chat to verify that you definitely need the test, that now’s the right time to do your smear, and to see if you have any symptoms.

They’ll ask you about if you’re sexually active. As healthcare workers, they will be non-judgmental about it. In my experience, they won’t call you a slut (or even side-eye you), but they won’t high-five you either (sadly). It’s OK to be vague if you don’t want to go into exact numbers. Even if you’ve only had sex with other people with vaginas, you need to get your smear test because the HPV virus, that causes most cases of cervical cancer, can be transmitted by sex involving two or more vulvas.

You’ll also be asked about discharge and all sorts of things like that. Be as frank as you like. If something’s worrying you about your downstairs and whether it’s normal, mention it.

When all the small talk is over, it’s time to get behind that curtain and wiggle out of your tights, because it’s time for your smear test.

Assume the position: You lie down on the couch and spread your legs in a different way to the way one would if anything pleasant were to happen to your cunt. For the smear, you put your ankles together, and let your knees drop.

The nurse will probably talk to you throughout, letting you know what they’re going to do. If the nurse doesn’t offer the information, ask them to. You’re well within your rights to.

The speculum: A speculum is a plastic doohickey that looks like a cartoon duck. They should use lube when they put it inside you–if they don’t, ask them for lube. I once had an STI test where a speculum went in without lube and it was the second most horrible cunt experience of my life (here’s the most, not for the faint-hearted).

Even with lube, I’m not going to lie to you. A speculum does not feel very nice at all. As it goes in, it feels like any phallic object penetrating does–so if you have any issues surrounding that feeling, take a lot of time to psychically prepare yourself and do what you need to do. Then after that, the nurse cranks it open, and that feels downright weird: you feel yourself getting a bit bigger on the inside. I imagine it’s how the TARDIS feels when anyone steps into her.

The speculum is not painful, but it is uncomfortable.

However weird it feels, you’re not actually being cranked very far open, just big enough for the nurse to be able to see your cervix and insert a small plastic brush.

At every smear test I’ve ever had, at this point the nurse has exclaimed over what a “beautiful” cervix I have. I do not know if this is a normal part of the procedure, or if I have a particularly aesthetically-pleasing cervix. I’ve never plucked up the courage to ask, and I always forget to bring a hand mirror so I can have a little shufti myself.

The actual smear test bit: Most resources about cervical smears say the procedure is completely painless. For me, at least, that is untrue. I am not going to lie: when they swab my cervix, it hurts a bit. Not much, and not for long, but it hurts.

The little brush they use to take the swab has stiff bristles. The nurse scrubs it around for a second or two on your cervix. It feels exactly like a stiff-bristled brush scrubbing around on your cervix. Have you ever caught the side of your hand with steel wool while washing up? It feels like that, except up your fanny. Oh, and with the added sensation of that weird feeling when something bangs on your cervix.

So yes, it might hurt. But–and I cannot stress this enough–it’s over within seconds. Again, if you have issues with this sort of thing happening to your vagina and cervix, prepare yourself. Have your self-care prepared, try to dissociate through the procedure… whatever will get you through it, because it’s not nice, but it is important you get it done.

Afterwards: The speculum is out of you before you know it, and you’ll be handed a tissue to have a little wipe with. It’s usually just lube, although during my second smear test I bled slightly from vigorous swabbing. The test shouldn’t do any physical damage which will prevent you from getting home immediately (although, once again, if you have any issues surrounding things being done to your vagina, you might want to take a few minutes to be sure you’re OK to go).

For me, I get slight twinges in my cervix for a few hours after a smear: not pain, exactly, but discomfort. This is perfectly normal and happens to some people, although some people feel nothing afterwards.

Results: You’ll get your results within a couple of weeks, usually by post. The letters are quite clear as whether the result was normal, abnormal or inadequate, and what you need to do with that information. Luckily for me so far, I’ve always had normal results.

For a normal result, that means “see you in three year’s time”, and congratulations, you’ve made it through your smear test. If it’s inadequate, bad luck, you’ll have to go in again because they didn’t collect enough cells during your smear. If it’s abnormal, don’t worry yet. My mum and my sister have both had abnormal smears and both are fine–my sister had her first baby recently, and my mum celebrated her 60th birthday! It doesn’t definitely mean you have cancer, and when they catch anything abnormal on your cervix, they can deal with it before you have any problems. It could save your life.

So, to conclude, get your smear test. It is approximately five minutes of awkward conversation, thirty seconds of discomfort and slight pain, and then, potentially, decades added to your life.


Baking and eating #cuntsourdough

Content warning: this post discusses food and has pictures of food, it also mentions vomit

The moment you’ve all been waiting for is here. I baked my cunt sourdough bread.

sourdough open

 

Recipe

You’ll probably be familiar with the first three days of making the starter, because if you’re reading this you almost certainly read my first post on the matter. Or you read the Daily Mail, in which case, congratulations, you are far worse than the worst candida infection possible. Either way, this is my favourite presentation of the first three days of the starter recipe, on a handy card, courtesy of Women’s Health.

On the fourth day, I once again fed the starter a cup of plain white flour and half a cup of water. It had started smelling, well, sour, which everything I’d read about sourdough starters suggested it was still going well. About six hours after feeding, it looked like it could use a little more. It wasn’t bubbling as much as it had been and looked a bit sad. So I gave it another half cup of flour and a dribble of water. You probably don’t need to follow that step, it’s just that my kitchen was very warm last night so I think it might have developed quicker than expected.

And today, it was ready. I popped half of it in the fridge as a backup, and baked with the other half. I chose this recipe by Patrick Ryan because it seemed quite straightforward for a beginner, and it came with a video so I could see what everything was supposed to look like at each stage–remember, this is my first time making sourdough. I made only two changes to the recipe: firstly, I used my own starter rather than his suggested one, and secondly instead of using a couche cloth (I don’t think I’m middle class enough to know what that is) or a heavily floured tea towel, I used greaseproof paper.

For kneading the dough, I wore gloves: after all, wouldn’t it be absolutely disgusting if some human DNA were to make its way into my sourdough? I’d vomit at the thought of some of the skin flora making its way into my food: over 1000 bacteria live naturally on human skin and what if they, like, grew in there and made me ill?

I used ice cubes to create steam in the oven, making sure they were appropriate for the occasion:

IMAG0620

There was one point in the process where I fucked up: for the second prove, I put the loaves in the bowls seam side down. This fuckup, fortunately, was purely cosmetic and meant that the tops looked a little rough. I may also have not proved for long enough: this is entirely my own fault, I got bored. I proved for 2 1/2 hours, knocked it back and then proved for another 2 1/2 hours. I’ll admit, it didn’t exactly look great when I put it in the oven, and I think it’s because of those factors.

IMAG0621

The result

sourdough cooked

What, did you expect it to sprout pubes?

My concerns about it being a bit flat on the way into the oven were unfounded. It rose, and filled the house with the delicious smell of baking bread.

I think I overcooked it ever so slightly, as it looked a bit burnt in places. Aside from that, everything was looking like it was meant to. Tapping it made a hollow sound, and it smelled absolutely delicious. You probably know what baking bread smells like. It smelled like that. What, you were expecting it to smell of pussy?

They were also slightly misshapen, probably due to my cosmetic cockup mentioned earlier. Still, not bad for a first attempt at bread-making.

I let it cool for about 45 minutes before slicing.sourdough open

Was I worried about tasting it? No. Any pathogens which may have been in the sourdough starter probably couldn’t survive being blasted at 230°C. If they could, then good for them. They deserve to infect me.

It tasted like a pretty damn nice sourdough bread. Not the tangiest sourdough I’ve ever eaten, but solidly tasty. I really, really liked it. After having a little bite, I ate a slice with butter. The bread was still slightly warm and the butter soaked in and it was absolutely heavenly.

A lot of people on the internet seem to be under the impression it would taste like cunt. Of course it fucking didn’t. The only thing that really tastes like pussy is pussy. Given that this is a loaf of bread, obviously it didn’t taste like pussy. Learn biology, buddy.

So, can you bake sourdough bread with vaginal yeast?

The honest answer is, I still don’t know. As I’ve been clear about from the start, there were only tiny trace amounts of vaginal yeast mixed into the starter at the beginning, and sourdough starters pick up and grow wild yeast from the flour and environment. Since it’s behaved exactly as one would expect sourdough with a conventional starter to behave at every step of the way, in smell and consistency and behaviour, I think that it’s very likely that any yeast from my vag never grew, and what I have produced is literally just a normal sourdough starter, with neither vaginal yeast nor vaginal bacteria present.

If any microbiologists would like to volunteer to test a sample out of curiosity, I can give you a sample of starter; I’ve got loads in the fridge.

How’s your vagina doing btw?

Fine, thank you for asking. Immediately after harvesting (i.e. on Saturday), I cracked out the Canesten and nuked it. My nethers are now pleasantly back in balance.

That reminds me, I’m a little bit concerned that a lot of you don’t seem to know that vulvas/vaginas have yeast present all the time. It’s just… always there. It lives there. What a yeast “infection” (or thrush) is, is when things get out of balance and the yeast overgrows. However, there’s always some yeast living there, just chilling. So if you enjoy drinking from the furry cup, you’ll be getting yeast in your mouth. Since that’s probably not caused you any ill effects, calm the fuck down.

Future plans?

I have loads of starter in my fridge, so I feel like I might try making another batch and maybe rise it overnight this time, now I know what a long and tedious process the proving is. I would also like to try making it look a bit better next time–food presentation has never been my strong point, so it’s something I think I should work on.

And with practice, maybe I’ll keep the starter going and diversify recipes. Crumpets, bagels, pizza… I love all of those things, and I’m quite enthused about baking now.

I intend to eat the rest of these loaves, because they’re really quite nice. I might occasionally post updates.

I won’t be making beer or marmite/vegemite, as you all keep asking. That shit is really fiddly, and I cannot be arsed.

Several friends who know exactly what I’ve been doing have expressed an interest in eating some, so I’ll probably have them round for tea sometime.

This post was made possible by my Patreon supporters. Consider becoming one, because you know you’re weirdly interested in what I’m doing


I’m making sourdough with my vaginal yeast

Content warning: This post discusses food and contains embedded tweets containing misogynistic and disablist language.

UPDATE: Want to know how it all turned out? I baked it and ate it. Here’s some more pictures and information.

I am making sourdough. I started the starter on Saturday afternoon, and it’s reached the point where it smells kind of yeasty, and now it’s looking like this:

IMAG0617

It’s caused quite a lot of visceral horror, because I bunged something a little bit unconventional in the starter: yeast from my vagina. Here’s my recipe, so you know:

Ingredients:

1 small Greek coffee-sized cup of plain flour
1/2 small Greek coffee-sized cup of water
As much vaginal yeast as I could scrape off a dildo I put in my vagina–my estimate is that there was about as much of it as would lightly coat a single tine of a fork, and no more.

Method: 

  • Mix the ingredients together.
  • Cover in foil, leave
  • The next day, “feed” it 1 small Greek coffee-sized cup of flour, 1/2 small Greek coffee-sized cup of water.
  • Cover it back up
  • Repeat the feeding
  • idk what I’ll do next, I’m only on the third day.

It all started with a fatal combination of a slightly perverse sense of humour, a keenly scientific mind, and touch of the thrush. Waking up on Saturday with the familiar itchy burny fanny, I giggled to myself “maybe I could make bread with that”. And that ticked into, “well, I’ve always wanted to try making my own sourdough anyway” and then a “fuck, would that even work?” and then I got curious and the next thing that happened was I was scraping white goop off of a dildo into a bowl of flour mixed with water.

Then, obviously, I cracked open the Canesten and cleared up the source because itchy minges are miserable. 

sourdough first day

Day 1

The next day, the Frankenstein within me–by Frankenstein, I mean the guy, not the monster (OK, maybe also the monster)–cheered. IT’S ALIVE!

sourdough 36 hrs

Day 2

It was a few hours after this that people started to really get disgusted. Below is a small sample of comments my little home baking project has received so far. This is important, people: please do not reply to or harass the tweeters: yes, you might want to defend me, but if you want to defend me or help me out, contribute to my Patreon, don’t pile on these people.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So, it seems to have generated rather a lot of disgust. Far more than I expected, to be perfectly honest: I’d expected perhaps the odd “eww” and maybe even an “I wouldn’t eat that that”, but not this, the level of outright horror, as though I’d dismembered a litter of puppies and was posting selfies with a selfie-stick while doing it.

The more moderate people who want to maintain their sense of outrage at this go for what I call the hygiene excuse: they declare it’s disgusting because it’s unsanitary. And here’s the thing: that’s not necessarily true. It’s almost certainly no more gross than regular sourdough starter.

Making sourdough starter entails encouraging stuff that’s present in the flour and just sort of floating around in the air in your kitchen and on your utensils to grow. That’s what wild yeast is. If that idea sickens you, avoid all sourdough, because that’s what it’s made of, but remember, people have been making and eating sourdough for millennia, and the human race hasn’t died out yet. All I’ve done is add a little bit of my own yeast. It’s somewhere between a Type I and a Type II sourdough, because I’ve added a tiny bit of yeast to the mix, although only a trace amount.

“But candida albicans (vaginal yeast) isn’t for eating and will somehow make you sick,” you cry. Probably not. Like all bread made with yeast, once it’s cooked it’s not exactly going to go about colonising your gut with yeast. The biggest risk with using candida albicans for breadmaking is that it won’t rise–more on that later.

“But what about vaginal bacteria and all the other minging stuff that’s come out of your quim?” you ask, becoming paler and paler as you continue reading this. First things first, any bacteria which lives in your warm soft parts lives there because it likes to be warm. Body temperature warm. It dies outside of that temperature range. However, let’s assume for the sake of argument that my vagina harbours a strain of bacteria that thrives equally in the ~37°C environment of my cunt as it does at the ~22°C of my kitchen, inside a bowl of flour and water. Were this the case, it still wouldn’t matter. I’m making fucking bread. You cook bread. All of the bread will reach the bacteria-murdering threshold of >70°C for long enough to kill anything that had survived.

I did a little straw poll and it found that at least some of the people being disgusted by my cunt sourdough may have a poor understanding of food hygiene. At the time of writing, around 30% of people who answered said that they wash their chicken before cooking: this is a very bad thing to do. Washing raw chicken in water does nothing to remove bacteria from the chicken, and sprays a species of bacteria called campylobacter all over your kitchen where it can thrive and grow. Campylobacter is bad, and responsible for most food poisoning. It, like most other bacteria, can be cooked out, but not scrubbed off. There was a big awareness campaign on this last year, but it seems to have bypassed a worrying chunk of the population. I say this not to pick on chicken-washers, but simply to point out that there’s probably far grosser things going on in the food you’re eating than a trace amount of vaginal yeast. It’s also worth noting that a lot of what you think you know about food hygiene may not necessarily be true. Anyway, people do things differently, and as long as what you’re doing hasn’t killed you or anyone else you’re feeding, why should we judge it?

However, I suspect the vast majority of the utter horror about my sourdough isn’t anything to do with  ignorance on food hygiene, but more to do with a general mistrust and horror at vag. I say this because I suspect if I were making my own any-other-thing-except-sourdough-using-vaginal-yeast, people probably would have just left me to it. Like this person, who made their own salami without fanfare:

This is what said salami looked like. I’ve made it a clickable link because it turned my own stomach a bit, and I’m the sort of person who is baking sourdough with bodily secretions.

Of course, there’s the distinct possibility that absolutely none of my own vaginal bacteria is actually growing within the sourdough. In fact, it’s probable that none of the yeast that is growing originated betwixt my thighs: again, there’s the aforementioned heat issue, and my kitchen is significantly cooler than my cunt. Furthermore, as also mentioned above, sourdough starters pick up wild yeast, so I have no real way of telling whether or not what’s growing is the vaginal yeast, or whether it’s just the stuff that would have grown anyway. In hindsight, it would have been a good idea for me to have prepared a control sourdough starter without vaginal yeast. I did not do this, and I regret it slightly now. So we’ll see what happens when it’s time to bake bread with the starter. I expect if there’s lots of candida albicans in it, it won’t rise so well.

It probably doesn’t matter that my sourdough may or may not contain any actual vaginal yeast. The very idea of it seems to horrify people more than enough. I suppose it’s a similar socially-constructed disgust that leaves a whole bunch of people repulsed by the idea of licking a pussy. Even the mere idea of a tiny trace of pussy in a massive loaf of bread is sufficiently vile.

There have been similar attempts at cooking with bodily secretions, and they’ve been branded art. There’s Toi Sennhauser, who brewed beer containing a tiny trace of vaginal yeast to ask questions about what we deem acceptable. There’s also Christina Agapakis, who has a background in biology as well as art, and is doing interesting things with cheese made from human cultures. I, however, do not consider my own project art. I consider it simply my own personal experimental baking. Again, this is perhaps why I’m so surprised at all the screaming: people weren’t nearly so freaked out when I spent a while eating pasta mixed with ketchup and henderson’s relish because I couldn’t afford much else (it’s quite a good pasta sauce, incidentally).

I’m also not doing it for any feminist protest type reasons, although I am very interested to note how many people are horrified at the very notion that something may have once been near a vagina–since time immemorial the “eww” response has caused a lot of trouble for those of us who have them (and a fair few women who don’t).

I’m also not doing this for any potential health claims, unlike the woman who cultured yoghurt from her own vaginal bacteria. I expect the final result of my endeavour to be maybe bread, with no miraculous healing powers–but also, no miraculous powers to cause sickness.

Any questions that my endeavour has raised were a surprising side product of this little culinary adventure, and I very much doubt that my baking project will finally settle the debate on the Vaginas Are Not Hideous Monster Caves side, because there’s far too much structural bullshit to take it all down that easily.

I’ll be updating periodically on my baking endeavours, including the final result. I will be using the hashtag #cuntsourdough. So, hopefully your curiosity is piqued. I know I’m excited to try whatever happens–in fact, watching the life that has sprung from my loins has finally made me understand why people want to have children (although I still prefer my sourdough starter: it’s lower maintenance than a child).

The next update to be posted on the blog will probably be if/when it’s in a state to actually bake bread with (or maybe I’ll try doing crumpets from my crumpet), although I’ll likely update more often on Twitter (@stavvers). Before you tweet me to tell me how disgusted you are, let me be clear about one thing: I fucking know. It turns out the world is even more grossed out about minges than I’d previously thought.

Click here to find out how the cunt sourdough turned out.

This post was made possible by my Patreon supporters, who are more than welcome to eat some of my cunt sourdough if they like, although they are equally welcome to not eat any. Thanks to my supporters, I’m no longer just eating crap, because I can afford a bit better. If I’ve horrified or intrigued you, or otherwise provoked a reaction, please consider supporting me


SASS: I think you’re meant to fuck up your cunt with it.

It’s 2015, and I am fucking tired as shit of two things:

  1. Products which are designed to make your nethers less gross
  2. Twee fucking euphemisms while marketing such things

Lucky for me, today I learned of a product which does both of these things: SASS Intimate Skincare. A takedown of a lot of the issues has been posted by Jade Moulds (warning: contains cissexist language: of course, vaginas are not just the domain of women, although this product has clearly been marketed at cis women; I wish the author had acknowledged this): namely that this product increases shame surrounding vaginas, and that it’s not very good for you to be rubbing scented soaps into a mucous membrane.

To add to the critique of how bad it is for you to be putting scented soaps on your cunt, I’d like to add that a lot of SASS’s marketing focuses on “pH balance”. This is obvious marketing jargon: the term is bandied about with basically anything you put on your skin anyway, and I wonder if by applying this pseudoscientific twaddle to products you whack on your cunt it’s trying to imply that maybe it won’t throw things out of kilter so much as other products which you’re meant to de-gross your minge with. Let’s pretend for a second that this is actually true: that SASS Intimate Skincare products are the exact same pH as your vagina, and this will definitely negate all of the problems chemicals making contact with a very sensitive body part could cause. If that’s true, to what point of the cycle is SASS Intimate Skincare pH balanced? For most of the month, the vagina is about as acidic as orange juice, but during periods, it becomes closer to neutral as the acidic natural juices mix with the pretty-much-neutral blood. And for whom is it pH balanced? There’s some natural variance, with the off-period pH being somewhere between 3.5 and 4.5, depending on the individual.

The acidity of the vagina is useful, because it kills bacteria. It’s also fucking badass, and why sometimes it looks like you’ve bleached your black knickers–you have.

I looked at the SASS website to find out, but I couldn’t, because everything is completely fucking vague. The takedown I posted earlier is equally annoyed by the vagueness of language used, but I couldn’t even necessarily work out what body parts some of the products were for. The term “intimate use” and “the area” is used a lot on the site, and I am 95% sure it doesn’t always refer to the same place. Like, seriously, these people sell shaving gels as well as things to be used “in and around the area”. Maybe I’m weird as is every cunt I’ve ever had the joy of putting my face in, but as far as I’m aware the part that you shave and the part that’s “in” are completely different.

One of the products is so vaguely-described I have literally no idea where you’re meant to put it: the Intimate Protection Barrier Cream. During exercise, it’s meant to protect… something. Apparently “intense activity can take its toll on your intimate area” and it will “help reduce friction” during intense physical activity. Er, what? I’m genuinely struggling to work out what this does. Is it for stopping your upper thighs rubbing together? Is it for people who live in towns where all exercise gear is made of sandpaper glued right to your flaps? What sort of exercise do they mean?

Alas, I have neither the money, nor the disregard for my own vaginal wellbeing, to test this stuff out. It’s pricey, and I don’t want bacterial vaginosis, thank you very much. I would also be enormously alarmed if my cunt started smelling like anything other than my cunt: it would be like that fancy culinary trope where you cook something that looks like something but tastes like something else, and it’s kind of weird and personally I really don’t like having food expectations violated and it always makes me enjoy it less and–

Cunts are the perfect anarchist. If you leave them to it, they tend to get along just fine, cleaning up after themselves and doing their thing. This is exactly why we don’t need yet more expensive products profiting off of a manufactured need for them not to just do what they do.

 

 


Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 28,312 other followers