You have a clit. Your water bottle has a clit. Your bathroom has a clit. Let's explore the theory on how everything in the world has (or is!) a clit!
Look around. What do you see? If you happen to flick to this page of the magazine at uni, then maybe it’s your laptop, some highlighters, your lunch next to you. Or, if you took a Grapey home, then you might be surrounded by wall décor, or a table lamp, or little toys for your pet. Or, maybe you’re on public transport, staring out at fucking cars or something. I don’t know. I’m not a poet. But I am a genius, because I can guarantee that whatever you’re looking at currently has a clit.
What do I mean by that? Exactly what you think I mean. Any and every area, place and material thing, no matter its size, shape or purpose, features a clit. A clitoris, if you want to use the rightful nomenclature. And I know what you’re thinking. It’s: “wow, I’m intrigued and want to keep reading this article. Please continue elaborating, you genius.” Thanks, I will.
If you’re looking at an object, any object, it will have some small perceivable feature that resembles a clitoris. This feature can be clit-shaped and visually centred, like The Clit, but it doesn’t have to be. The main idea is that it resembles a clit in simply being the small feature of the object. Extra points if it’s hidden or obscure enough to not be noticed at first glance. For example: the clit of a laptop is the webcam. That’s it.
Well, what about places? Depending on how big they are, it might be even easier to find the clit of a given space. For instance, if you’re at Macquarie University Station, just… look up to that giant ‘M’ sign. If you’re in a tutorial, it’s probably the wall-mounted clock. Sydney CBD? It’s the Centrepoint Tower. You know what I’m saying? You get what I’m getting at.
But these are easy examples. Of course the webcam and the ‘M’ are clits. Really, the clit can be hard to find, just ask any straight guy. Shit’s a conspiracy theory to them.
Sometimes the objects and the places ARE the clits. Like, it’s hard to find the clit of a pillow, but often the pillow itself is the clit of the bed, or of the couch, or the chair. The pool is another example – it can be a blank slate within itself, but isn’t it located, framed, in fact, by the fence, in the context of a house’s backyard? The pool is the backyard’s clit.
If you’re still looking for the clit of whatever you’re looking at, I’ll tell you that sometimes the clit isn’t centred, or, the object/place in mind has multiple clits. Depending on how a dining table is set up, for instance, the serviette tray to the side could be the clit, or the salt and pepper shakers. At the end of the day, you’re going to a well-respected university to study a well-respected academic field. I trust your judgement is sincere enough to pinpoint the most accurate clit/s.
So there you go. Your life has been clitted forever. I love you too.
Many people have asked me how I’ve come to this insight. Well, my high school friends nicknamed me Clit, and then stopped using my legal and respectable government name long ago. So, dear reader, I myself am a Clit. I am now a real metabolising person who responds to “oh Clitorissss,” “hi Clittyyy,” “Clitoral stimulation come here,” hence, I’ve embraced the clit life and I think you should too.
So. Now that you’re an intellect, I’ll leave you with four progressing questions.
Clit of your bedroom?
Clit of the body, if no crotch exists?
Clit of the world?
Example of something/somewhere without a clit in any conceivable way?
Think of it philosopher style and send your revelations back to us:
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