Doctor: Just one small thing. It appears you have a lazy ovary.
Miranda: A lazy ovary?
Doctor: Your right ovary has stopped producing eggs.
Miranda:Is it possible it’s just on strike?
I know what this is.
My right ovary has given up hope that I will ever get married and have kids.
It’s like a case you know will settle out of court. Why bother?
-The left one still believes. -I’m a biological underachiever.
It’s ironic because that ovary went to Harvard.
Charlotte: I have a tilted uterus.
The sperm have to jump over that hurdle to get to my egg.
But once they get there, there will be an egg.
Samantha: I need a new gynecologist. Do you Iike yours?
Miranda:Not right now. No.
Samantha:At least she’s a woman.
I tried to go to a man, but it was too strange…
…him spending all that time down there and leaving without an orgasm, and a bill
one season later…
Miranda:He only had one ball.
Carrie: I guess that’s all he needed.
Apparently the other one was ornamental.
– Why didn’t I use a condom? – Carrie: You didn’t use a condom?
Miranda:He has one ball, I have a lazy ovary.
In what twisted world does that create a baby?
It’s like the Special Olympics of conception.
So I have this condition…that makes it hard to have kids and (incidentally) lose weight, and a bunch of other stuff. Right now, the whole kid thing is working in my favor because well, who wants kids? I mean right now. Clearly I can barely take care of myself. I got to thinking about this though…because what are the odds I’d be a Miranda, have a go with my boyfriend and wind up pregnant cursing my condition because its supposed to keep me safe. My ovary didn’t go to Harvard though…it did get an award from them though. The Harvard-award winning ovary has produced an accidental love child reads the headline of my worst nightmare. Seriously though… I’ve never bought condoms. Do girls seriously buy those? AND keep them in your purse? I figure boys use them they should buy. I buy this pill every month. AND have this condition. This anti-offspring condition so the least you can do is bring balloons to the party. I’m just saying.
Dear Lord, I’m a Carrie…..I’m a Carrie NOT a Miranda. Amen.
editors note: my boyfriend, to my uh limited knowledge, has two balls…neither of which are purely ornamental. Or so I’ve heard.