Anteaters – The Harvard Lampoon

Big & Nasty #

| Issue Editor: JOM '13 | Art Editor: NL '13


  JDM '14

I thought my life was over when my doctor told me I had vaginal maggots. You’d think I’d burst into tears, but I actually burst into laughs. They say that’s a common reaction to tragic news. Also, what’s more ticklish than vaginal maggots?

That’s when my doctor recommended an anteater. I was a little nervous when he first brought it in, but I relaxed once I felt its paws resting on my thighs. Once he started licking the maggots off…my god. The tenderness. He only paused to coat that slender tongue in K-Y Warming Jelly. When he came back, it was like spring settling on my labia after an endless winter.

Letting an anteater go down on me changed my life. I gained the courage to break up with my boyfriend, who just looked like a giant, hairless, runt-of-the-litter anteater which a less compassionate breeder would’ve slaughtered. I used to lie awake at night, but now I sleep soundly knowing the bed bugs are quietly preparing me for my next visit. When they fail me, I just smash an ant farm on my lap.

Ask your doctor about anteaters. If you’re anything like me, just saying the word produces a pleasant tingling. Anteaters. Ant. Eaters. Anteaters.