Too bad my fucking aching throbbing locator ovaries can't locate a fucking machine that will take my quarter and give me some product in return.
A sure way to die? Give a perimenopausal woman (no matter what my fucking male doctor says) who is hemorrhaging for the 2nd fucking time in as many weeks a couple quarters and send her on a wild goose chase around campus putting quarters in feminine hygiene product machines and have it rigged so when she pulls the knob on these machines that must have been made in 19 fucking 20 NOTHING FUCKING HAPPENS. Make sure there is a rooster-haired fucking big wig in high heels clomping around with her nose in the air so that said perimenopausal hemorrhaging woman can't beat the living FUCK out of that machine.
Seriously. If you're at all suicidal.
Yeah, there you go. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu...
I should feel better for having vented. I don't. I'm sure many of the women here feel my pain.