Please, America, let’s agree to never have a vagina protest ever again.

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I don’t really care what your position is on the Great Michigan Vagina Debate, America. We disagree on the rules of decorum, I’m sure, and on our own independent analysis of the problem at hand and whether or not, exactly, Michigan is attempting to, in fact, legislate anyone’s vagina. I maintain that, in the name of scientific accuracy, they are, in fact, not attempting to legislate anyone’s vagina. If anything, they are legislating uteruses. Or uterii. Or whatever.

But let’s get one thing straight. Although I have no objection to saying the word, vagina, I do have an objection to knowing about yours. And frankly, I would assume that, in the immortal words of a former Michigan legislator, no one currently or formerly in the Michigan legislature has ever given a single thought to any of these womens’ actual vaginas.

And the protest yesterday only served to reiterate that point.

I’m about to show you pictures. You should be prepared. Because this protest on vaginas may make you never, EVER, want to ever hear about one again. In fact, you may want to start a petition to end all vagina-themed protests into eternity. You may even want to start the ball rolling on a Constitutional amendment.

I really hope that that sign was distributed to her and is not home-made. Because I really don’t think anyone who is in any danger of her voting really cares which way she votes, only that they’re going to see her in their nightmares. And by the way, whoever said that Tea Parties only attract old, ugly people on rascal scooters has never been to a “feminist gathering.”

But we shall move on.

Team Vagina looks shockingly like, “Team Bitchy Moms from the Bus Stop You Never Talk To.” Ten bucks says that after this, they went home to discuss whether they could legitimately form a SWAT team that would break through your mud room windows and confiscate everything in your pantry containing high fructose corn syrup.

Although, “Team Vagina” would be a great name for a punk band.

These are probably the 72 virgins that terrorists get when they blow themselves to Kingdom Come.

At any rate, if you need more exhibits, they’re out there. They’re just beyond my ability to tolerate. They might not be beyond yours, but frankly, they should be. Because if they’re not, you have some weird sexual fetishes about angry grandmothers you should never, ever share with anyone.