When a coochie queefs it smells like a rose

[Madame Frottage]

I'm not surprised though. Besides blueberry tarte au sucre, a frangrant cooch always brings the men to the yard.

[Madame Frottage]

For Auntie Flo's Prayer Shack, this has become a sausage party. Don't the men have a hunting den?

[Cranky Old Man]

Some days I miss Ponce.

Who is Ponce?

[Johny Joe Hold]

Some days I miss Ponce.

I'm with you, Dr. Toole. A while back we had young women and each had a "Pa." Now we have porn. I'm going to talk with the church higher ups.

[Dr. Anthony J. Toole]

Some days I miss Ponce.

[MitzaLizalor]

However you're defining / NOT A VIRGIN \ and there could be many definitions, being a mother must be at the top of the list.

[Madame Frottage]

Now ladies, now that there's no men around, we can talk about the things that matter.

Song of Solomon 4:16-6:3
"Awake, O north wind, and come, south wind! Blow upon my garden, that its spices may flow out. Let my beloved come to his garden and eat its choicest fruits." [1]

Does it not feel our women parts improve with age? This verse reminds me of a passage from the Rubiyat of Omar Khyam.

Iram indeed is gone with all its Rose,
And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows;
But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields,
And still a Garden by the Water blows.

Perhaps dear Omar was plagiarizing from God, nonetheless, my ancient ruby is a jewel, that blows the sweetest rosie fragments now that it's performed the sacred duty of birthing my sweet Quincy. You must understand, in Quebec, we are more freer releasing our feminine energy into the winds. I know some ladies here may be tight lipped about such matters, but you cannot surpress what is meant to be. Hold it in, and womb will belch the most fowl of stenches, stronger than the mackerel in Baffin Bay.

So lets join in, and praise the Virgin Mother, rejoice! For womanhood! And project our feminine energies towards the firmament, so that Jesus will peak from beyond the clouds and smile and say, "ahhhhhh..."