Well…have at it, if you must, ladies, and God’s best to you. But I’m convinced that to address that play or Eve Ensler with anything approximating seriousness and deliberation is to give the whole Vagina Endeavor a patina of credibility and seriousness it simply does not deserve.
Eve Ensler’s foul-mouthed, talking, raspberry-blowing,”goodraping,” hiccupping, whining, slobbering, sloppy drunken vagina of a play really, really deserves nothing but your scorn and your cheerful, energetic mockery.
Because whenever I think of Eve Ensler’s Talking Vaginas, all I hear are…kazoos! Tootoootoooot! Bahtooot! Bahtoot!