I think we’re old enough to understand the difference between a queef and a fart. That is not why I brought you here. It has come to my attention recently that Queefing is a rather common act in the bedroom. It’s time we discuss it. Like adults.

Now, when I first heard of the word Queef, it was in the back of a school bus– where else? I was in 7^th grade and honestly, I wasn’t even sure if women had 3 holes down there, or two. And now girls can fart out of WHERE? The best life lessons a kid coulda asked for. And, I didn’t. But I learned anyway.

I was able to forgo most of my life w/o thinking about women farting out of their vaginas. But whenever I did, I would remind myself that they all do it. My mother queefs. Your mother queefs. Your grandmother queefs. Everyone queefs. But it wasn’t until recently that I learned men can queef as well. It’s true folks. I’ve seent it. Dare I say it, I’ve even done it myself.

It was my third date with Tony. He really liked me, he’s kind. And it was his birthday the next day so I thought, why not? I’m not usually the first to give-it up for a fella, but I wanted to prove something to myself. So I prepared to receive ’em, but nothing coulda prepared me for that evening of queefs. And I’m not talking about once or twice. I queefed like, 12 times. It was embarrassing— i can’t believe I’m even writing about this. But fuckit. The truth must be told. I come from the land of queefs, a gay man with a message. WE ALL QUEEF. And I stand by that statement.

Luckily, the guy was totally chill with my queefing. He really liked me, like I said, but the queefing just kept bringing me out of the moment. We changed position 3 times, and in hindsight, each position just made it worse. This had never happened to me before so I kinda panicked. He stopped because I didn’t look like I was having a good time– and I mean, yeah. I was afraid I was shitting all over the place. Fortunately, I wasn’t. But after we talked about it, everything was fine. He seriously wasn’t phased at all, and I could tell because he hadn’t gone soft. What a nice guy, this guy. I on the other hand, tried my best to act cool until our date was over. And as soon as he left, I googled anal queefing– immediately regretted it. Do NOT look it up.

My only source of solace was found after discussing queefs with the ladies. My eyes were opened to the rich underworld of straight and lesbian queefing lore. I would have never known if I hadn’t experienced it for myself. I didn’t feel so embarrassed anymore. There was some sort of queef-bonding taking place that, as a gay man, I was honored to be apart of. As a gay man, I was the missing ingredient to this queef-sisterhood and together, we shared our experiences to find a well-rounded truth. Here it is:

As a Queefer, there is an innate embarrassment that we all know. The involuntary fart noise just ain’t sexy, don’t know how else to put it. “A vibe killer,” one straight girl said, “I’m still embarrassed even with the love of my life inside me.” Damn. All Queefers know that feeling. Now, as recipients of the queef– the Queefee– there is no inherent shame. Some Queefee’s are even known to like the event. Others just work with it as a natural cause of the act. As a lesbian puts it, “idgaf about queefing, i’ll make that moment work for me and that special lady.” And we *snap* to that. Spoken like a true Queefee. I can see reason on both ends. So what use is there in talking about it? Well. That’s pretty much the only point I’m trying to make. We gotta talk about it.

You see, we aren’t in the back of a school bus anymore. There are like 5 million queefs happening every second, around the world, and we just don’t talk about ’em enough. Or if we do, it’s about how we prevent it from ever happening in the first place. I argue we stop caring, I mean, it’s clear the Queefee’s don’t. So why do the Queefers? And who knows. Queefs might even make us laugh if we don’t take ’em too personal. Really, what matters most is that we just open up and talk about our experiences. No matter if they’re awkward, or funny, or downright gross. As soon as we bring our queefs to light from that underbelly of embarrassment, it’ll transform moments of shame or guilt into funny stories that we can grow and laugh about as we go thru life. In the end, doesn’t that make us sexier anyway?