Where’s my uterus? Wouldn’t you like to know. I’ll give you a clue. Last week my uterus was in one of the undisclosed locations where DICK CHENEY USED TO HIDE.

But it’s not there anymore, SUCKERS.

What’s that? You want to know what’s inside my uterus? Well, I hope you have a portable sonogram machine that works with a generator, because if you want to find my uterus, you will have to travel to THE BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN.

But be careful; my uterus is currently wearing a string of WATERPROOF LED LIGHTS and is perfectly camouflaged in the middle of A FLOTILLA OF STINGING BIOLUMINESCENT JELLYFISH.

Oh, wait, I just got an encrypted message from my uterus. It left the ocean and is currently PILOTING A HELICOPTER over the BERMUDA TRIANGLE on its way to YOUR MOM’S HOUSE.

Oh, you didn’t think I was really going to tell you where it’s going, DID YOU? Also, by the way, did you know that YOUR MOM IS PRO-CHOICE?

That’s right, last month, your mom was hiding my uterus under the bed in YOUR OLD ROOM. You need to get your stuff out of there, by the way. She wants to turn it into a GIFT-WRAPPING ROOM.

In fact, she gift-wrapped my uterus and mailed it to THE PAST, where secret agents hid it in AL CAPONE’S VAULT, but when Geraldo opened it, my uterus HAD VANISHED.

That’s right, my uterus can travel through time and space. You might have even seen it in the latest photos of THE RING NEBULA from the JAMES WEBB TELESCOPE.

Yes, even nebulae are PRO-CHOICE. They decide IF AND WHEN they birth a star.

After chilling in the nebula, my uterus hitched a ride back to earth on THE STARSHIP ENTERPRISE, where it GOT DRUNK WITH A FERENGI but still managed to earn the rank of ENSIGN FIRST CLASS.

You heard right, my uterus can even hide in FICTIONAL UNIVERSES, so you might as well give up trying to find it and regulate it because my uterus is SO FUCKING BADASS that it SCARES THE CRAP OUT OF YOU, DOESN’T IT?