Read Cunt for Free Online Page A

read Pippi Longstocking, mended clothes
     (before this, shortening a skirt involved the use of duct tape and an iron) and cooked
     Creole Tomato Soup.
    I quit taking ibuprofen. My period mellowed out even more. For the first time in my
     life, I actually enjoyed bleeding. I gauged myself with the movements and rhythms of the moon. I still got
     cramps, but I didn’t faint or puke at all.
    Hip, hip!
    One month I had pretty bad pains and took some ibuprofen. The following month, the
     pain was even worse. Then I did an experiment. Some months I took pain relievers and
     some months, I didn’t. Every time, the month after I took pain relievers, I’d have, as Holiday Golightly would say, the Mean Reds.
    Though the medication brought immediate relief, the following period was excruciating. Taking menstrual-pain drugs became
     a vicious cycle. I never realized it before, and it was so obvious once I saw it,
     but I needed more and more ibuprofen to keep the pain at bay each month.
    This little experiment resulted in an absolute mistrust for everything I had ever learned about being a woman in this culture. I began the
     arduous task of questioning, re-evaluating, researching and rewriting the entire information-cataloging
     system in my brain.
    For two years, I did not watch television, read newspapers or any magazines which
     did not reflect a standard of womanhood with which I identified. Dr. Leo Daugherty,
     one of my esteemed instructors at the Evergreen State College, told me that for one
     whole year he read books only by women writers, and I did that too.
    All this activity started with my period, but it soon encompassed my entire life and
     history as well as my way of perceiving the lives and histories of every woman with
     whom I came into contact.
    The way I had learned to deal with my bleeding ways was a reflection of what our society
     teaches us about everything cuntlovin’ and female and rhythmic and sexual. These are
     things which must be somehow “controlled” with shame, embarrassment, taboo, violence
     or drugs. In order to serve the destructive tendencies of our society, everything
     that is cuntlovin’ must be sequestered away far into deep recesses of the collective
     unconscious somehow.
    Therefore, like our cunts, our blood is weird, messy and ugly. The negativity surrounding
     menstruation is an illusion that falls, falls, falls away the instant perspective
     shifts.
     
    And all this mental activity started with me and the moon.
    The moon has consistently proven herself to be every woman’s ally since the beginning
     of time. The moon renders fearful illusions of social conditioning petty riffraff
     that gets in the way of a cuntlovin’ lady’s life. The moon fucken rules.
    Once you decide your body is your fine-tuned hot rod to tool you around this earth
     as you desire, buy a lunar calendar (I highly recommend the one published by Luna
     Press). Put it where you’ll see it every morning. Slap it up by the coffee maker,
     the bathroom mirror or above your bed. Wherever. Look at it every day. Notice where
     the moon is on the calendar. As often as possible, notice the moon in the sky. That’s
     all you have to do, nothing fancy, just notice the moon. The clincher here is consistency. Watch the moon grow and recede every month. Be able to eventually wake up in the
     morning and know where the moon will be that evening without looking.
    This is aligning yourself with the moon. Since, like I say, the moon has been teaching
     us ladies about our insides since we developed the eyeballs able to see that high,
     there’s no wrong way to do this. The moon will teach you just as it taught your distant
     ancestors.
    When you get your period, make a (red) mark on your moon calendar. What did the moon
     look like when you got your period? What did it look like last month? Sooner or later,
     you’ll get a rhythm going with the moon. You’ll have your period every new moon or
     every waxing moon, or maybe