Olivia Wilde explains how that happens. Vagina death. Wait. No. I don’t think she does.
Is it because you can’t legally hire your significant other prostitutes?
I’m… trying to understand. She gave a monologue in which she said:
In Olivia Land, relationships can legally only last seven years, without an option to renew. That way it never goes stale. Can you imagine, if we only had seven years? We’d be so nice to each other, so kind, and appreciative and enthusiastic, like we were eating a really expensive bowl of pasta! And in Olivia Land people wouldn’t cheat nearly as much because there wouldn’t be the threat of spending forever with one bedfellow. It just wouldn’t be legal. There’s the issue of kids. Okay this is fun.
In Olivia Land, all the kids go to boarding school at seven. It’s like in Harry Potter!
I would like to legalize prostitution. Hiring a sex worker in Olivia Land would be as easy, hygienic, and inexpensive as getting a pedicure. That way when away on business or just not in the mood, we could just hire a hooker for our loved one and keep them uninterested in cheating and keep them satisfied. These particular hookers would obviously have to be mute and possibly cross-eyed.
I thought we were going to treat our significant others like a delicious bowl of agnolotti and then there would feel no need to cheat! No? Guess not. Okay.
Also, everyone I know who went to boarding school at 8 came out immensely fucked up. I’d wager that having to fight a satanic metaphor when they were nine didn’t work out so well for the Harry Potter kids, either. However, I think the most baffling part may be the follow-up, during which she remarks:
“We’re left with the question,” she says. “And we have to live the question.” So, how can a woman tell if it’s right? Listen to your vagina, Wilde advises. “Sometimes your vagina dies,” she says. “Then you know it’s time to go. There’s no reason to sacrifice your womanhood and femininity for some sort of weird feeling of responsibility to something that may not be right. I feel like far too many women do that.”
My vagina… doesn’t talk. To me. Maybe it talks while I’m asleep? Is it dying right now!?
This is really confusing for me, because Olivia Wilde’s Twitter photo has always led me to believe she’s a clever sort of person, the kind of lady it would be fun to hang out with. I mean, this is her Twitter photo:
WILL THE MONKEYS WEAR GOWNS IN OLIVIA-LAND? If so, I guess I’m in.