Women Who Get to the Point of Loving Pumpkin Spice So Much That It Saturates Their Tampon.

Usually, around this point in October, the lust that “women” of a basique nature still feel for pumpkin spice after all these years since Starbucks invented the desire for it in 2003, when the pumpkin spice latte was first released, you have to wonder how the rail thin shape of her very body hasn’t somehow turned into a pumpkin as magically as Cinderella’s carriage after midnight. It is this sort of “woman” who also can’t help but delight in such fall activities as going to pumpkin patches or apple orchards and seeking out foliage for the perfect Instagram photo of her holding up a leaf or a Boomerang of her jumping into a pile of them (though even that might be too creative).

Her overloaded craving for a world colored in pumpkin spice and all the associated fall banalities that come with it can be so overpowering–what with draping herself in infinity scarves, oversized sweaters and jeans from Madewell—that she, in fact, might actually manage to saturate her very tampon in the flavor of pumpkin spice. Because, yes, this the type of “girl” who still inserts tampons instead of dripping “her essence” into a bleeding cup. She’s not “earthy” enough for all that, after all, capitalist bitch that she tends to be.

Her ardency for the artificial flavor–as artificial as the millennial “experiences” that have been created to worship fall like some sort of god–is almost as overpowering as the inevitable animal prints that creep into fall clothing collections each year like clockwork. A clockwork pumpkin spice, as it were. Almost as predictable as the ticking biological clock of a “woman” who wants to have her own daughter (therefore temporarily dispense with her pumpkin spice-soaked tampons) that she can mold into the perfect junior basic to carry on the fall tradition of pumpkin spice fervor for generations to come.

Women Who Suck Fall’s Dick Harder Than A Man With Money’s.

As fall descends upon us, the endless hype leading up to what has officially been dubbed “basic bitch season” is about to reach a fever pitch in the coming weeks. The first signal, regardless of how the climate actually feels, is Starbucks deciding to re-inaugurate one of its bestselling drinks, the pumpkin spice latte, which typically always occurs during the first week of September (they’ve got to cash in on it for as long as possible, after all). Once this event is heralded, there’s no stopping the rest of the steam roll that is the fall accoutrements a particular sort of “woman” just adores.

And even though the exact period and duration of fall may change with increasing rapidity over time as the apocalyptic patterns of the weather mirror the imminent demise of humanity, you can always count on fall’s “female” dick suckers to adhere to the usual uniformed reverence: oversized sweater, painted-on leggings and Uggs (or some knockoff form of them). Equipped with her hot beverage in hand, there is no man the fall-loving “woman” can’t corral into her bedroom (packing, undoubtedly, Ralph Lauren sheets) just in time to have someone–anyone–to cuddle up with for the winter. Requisite trips to the pumpkin patch where infinite photos will be taken so that only the perfect one can appear on Instagram are also mandatory fall protocol. Summer be damned, fall is the time when “women” get at their most understatedly slutty–one wouldn’t be surprised if you caught her actually fucking a leaf as she rolls around “just so” in one of the piles before sipping from a mug of hot cider that makes her giddy with elation almost as much as the pumpkin spice.

Then, of course, to top it off, is Halloween: the granddaddy of all “female” love for fall since, as Cady Heron said, it is “the one night a year when a girl can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it.” Testing the very thin limits of her creativity, this usually means the fall lover in question will don whatever is most trending pop culturally from the year. In 2017’s case, Missing A Clit predicts the simplicity of Taylor Swift’s black shag “Rep” sweater from “Look What You Made Me Do.” And it’s not just because she’s the satyr to basics, but also, well, it just gets so chilly with only shorts and heels on. So if you’re a man who, by now, hasn’t learned to worship fall, maybe there’s a reason you’re single–and it’s not just because you’re poor.