The Punany Monologues: Natalie Storm Talks About Sex

Words by Natalie Storm

We have been going with this Fashion Fridays thing lately, but today we are going say fuck it and go Dutty Fridayz on you as well. From henceforth on one Friday a month we will be handing the LargeUp reins over to rising dancehall star Natalie Storm, who is now officially our first celebrity sex blogger. We want you to know that we did not solicit these sex soliloquies or pressure Nats in any way–she reached out to LargeUp because apparently she was looking for a forum to get some things off her, um, chest. So without further ado, may we present the first installment in a series of philosophical treatises Nats calls “According to My Vagina” and we call “The Punany Monologues” (We’re just waiting for her to drop an actual dancehall tune called “PumPum Monologue”).

According to My Vagina: Pussy Egos

According to my vagina, we can do without it. Who really cares if you have a benz punany, a jaguar punany, a taxi punany or even the-little-engine-that-could punany?! We’re so overly insecure about our vajayjays (just because we’ve never had the pleasure of being inside them) that we constantly take offense to the simplest comment (or lack thereof) about them. Deep down inside, we know the real issue at hand has everything to do with, “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me my vagina is tight” and nothing to do with “the yam was overcooked” when we had that argument about dinner earlier. (No, this isn’t about me *whispering* it’s about a cousin of a friend’s grandmother’s aunt). Trust me, we have as much, if not more, issues with the state of our pussy than men have with the size of their dicks… I should know.

I recently did a survey asking my last three boyfriends and my current baby patootie how they would rate my vagina on a scale of 1-10. I broke it down into 4 categories:

1) Taste

2) Feel

3) Grip

4) Appearance

My current boyfriend gave me the highest score, of course, after I threatened to cut off his peepee in his sleep. (Haha, just kidding.) All my exes gave me pretty good scores but were at a loss for a sensibly satisfying answer when I asked them why they all cheated. They essentially all said, men find comfort and relief from the world having uncomplicated sex where they could feel like their own boss, control their own emotions and don’t have to think too much about it.

Ah, bloody hell! Why didn’t they just come out and say that in the first place? My vagina apparently made them feel way too vulnerable and sensitive. It’s sooo good, it made them want to break down and cry all the time and what they really wanted was something to make them feel like degenerate homo sapiens again. Awwww, how flattering…now I think I get it! They curse us for not being good and when they get it, they’re worried about it being too good? What the fuck is up with that!?

If I followed the reasoning of Mr One-eyed Popeye, I would end up on a mental rollercoaster ride. No wonder so many women are insecure about their vagina. I have decided to trust that it’s the greatest thing since Eve ate that apple, and stop stressing about how comfortable is too comfortable. Because men may say they want great but what they really want is someone to feed their fragile egos and not have them bawling, like in rapturous ecstasy. In other words, they’re pretty satisfied with average. So to all the little-engines-that-could punanys out there: you actually can. Don’t worry about it too much, because apparently the Benz Punany has nothing on you. Until next time…

Pum pum power rocks!

Natalie Storm