This has been my favourite vaginism since a baby came out of my furry co-pilot. (I am the magnificent Millennium Falcon.)

I said it out loud on CBC radio last year when I was interviewed about my book, MotherFumbler. I woke a few nans up that morning. Smashed a few teacups like it ain’t no thing. The term was timely because Max was just getting into Star Wars. My only regret is that I didn’t work  “Princess Lay-Ya,” “Hands Solo,” and “Sith on my face” into the conversation somehow. Damn it to hell.

Anyway, here’s why “wookiee bush” is all that and a bag of chips:

1. It’s neither super soft nor super vulgar. It’s not buttercup and it’s not cunt. It sits smack dab in the middle for everyone to enjoy. It’s like a friendly monster with a soft beard.

2. It’s just plain fun. Say it ten times and tell me it didn’t bring a smile to at least one set of lips. It rhymes with nookie, for god’s sake! It also rhymes with “looky looky,” like when you are about to reveal a special treasure no one has seen before.

3. It flies in the face of the vajazzlers and waxinators who think we should all have eight-year-old twats that sparkle with glitter. You can keep ‘er neat, but bald? Bitch please. Unless your pants are the home of the Mickey Mouse Club, no thanks Hillary Duff ten years ago.

4. I like the idea of my vagina going URRRR ARRR ARRRRGH. (Not to be confused with YES and NO, of course.) I also like the idea of my vagina wearing an ammo belt. I am going to buy it an ammo belt.

Why all this vagina talk? A whole section called “All About the Muff” — really? Yes. YES. Because the whole world is shaped like a dick. The Leaning Tower of Penis, for example. It’s not fair. And let’s not forget our obsession with ASS. For the love of god, it makes poop! Get over it, J-Lo. Jesus. It’s time to bring back the velvet purse — with love, respect, and humour.

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