lubiddu:

jedisteverogers:

hihiyas: rainnecassidy: pagetbewbster: chidoree: if you threw a pad or tampon into a crowd of boys they would probably all scream and it would be like that scene from monsters inc where george gets contaminated by a sock story time ok so in high school on away game days, the football players and cheerleaders would have to share busses because our school was broke as fuck so our cheer bus would always have a group of varsity footballerers in the back of it. one day my genius friend and I were discussing our feminist rage when she said “bridget you should totally throw a tampon back there and see what they do” and me being myself, stood up and hurled a one (1) tampon at the Manly Men. IT LOOKED LIKE A WAR MOVIE. THE BROS FACES WERE FILLED WITH HORROR AS THEIR BUDDY GOT SHOT. HE WENT DOWN SO DRAMATICALLY AS SCREAMS FILLED THE BUS. BOYS WERE SLINKING AS FAR AWAY FROM THE DEADLY TAMPON AS PHYSICALLY POSSIBLE. ONE BRO WAS EYEING THE EMERGENCY WINDOW WITH ALL SERIOUSNESS, READY TO FREE HIMSELF FROM THE THREAT. BEING IN CHICAGO, THE BUS DRIVER PULLED OVER ASSUMING A KID ACTUALLY GOT SHOT. A GIRL HAD TO GO GET THE TAMPON SO THE GUYS WOULD STOP SHITTING THEIR PANTS AND SIT THEIR ASSES THE FUCK BACK DOWN. I have deduced 2 things from this whole experience:

1. men are ridiculous

2. I wish I had thrown more than one tampon TRUE STORY When my brother was in high school, as a prank, someone stuck a pad to the front bumper of his truck. A CLEAN, UNUSED PAD. My brother came home from high school, 17 years old, CRYING and my dad made ME go get it off his truck. I had honestly forgotten about that until just now. I sincerely regret never having done this during my school days. story time (again!) one time, in the middle of my freshman year, I was sitting in the band hall talking to a bunch of friends before school. let me preface this story by saying they were all guys (one of the hazards of being in the saxophone section–guys outnumbered the girls 6:1). Anyway, I dug around in my backpack for a tampon and slipped it into the sleeve of my sweater and was about to excuse myself to the restroom (which, if anybody has been paying attention, they would’ve known what was going on, because I’ve never been exactly subtle about things like this) but one of the guys kind of guffaws and goes “what’s in your sleeve? a tampon?” and I guess the way he rolled the word off his tongue like it was some kind of insult really bothered me, so I just pulled the brand new, still wrapped tampon out of my sleeve and went “you guessed it” and popped him across the cheek with it. I walked away to the restroom, vaguely aware of the strangled noises and sounds of disbelief and horror coming from the group of guys. They were all paying attention enough to know that I was digging in my bag for a tampon or pad, but apparently, the sight of the thing was too much for them. That group of guys couldn’t look me in the eyes for a few weeks, all because of a wrapped tampon

Yep. I’m an electrician, and we carry voltage meters with us (slang: “Wiggy”, from an old brand name of meter that just about no one uses any more). They take up too much space to put in a tool pouch, so if you don’t want to leave it in the tool box/bag, you’ll have a separate pouch on your tool belt for it. A long, narrow pouch that is convenient as hell for putting spare tampons in where they’ll stay clean and undamaged until needed.

A lot of the guys just leave their meters back in their tool boxes, which are in the gang box, which is usually some hike away from the actual work. So, “can I borrow your meter?” is something I hear a lot. And the response is always, “sure.” They always emit a high-pitched scream (somewhat similar to the tone emitted by the meter when voltage is present) when the tampons fall out when they take out the meter. “WHAT ARE *THOSE* DOING IN THERE?!!” I’ll pick one up and do my best Groucho Marx imitation (with the tampon as cigar): “Whaddya think they’re doing in there, sweetheart?” (wiggling eyebrows, “cigar” tapping). Their reaction is adorable. In almost thirty years of doing this work, I’ve yet to get a blase–“oops, didn’t mean to drop your tampons” response.