Wednesday, June 24, 2020

Notes from whatever the hell today is

Well, the packages of sex toys are traveling around the country to find their forever orifices, and some are already nestled in someone's butt or whatever, happily rumbling away fulfilling their life purposes. (There are still a few things left, but not much. If you want to see, email me and ask for access to the ever- shrinking Google doc.)

A dude got a box for his wife, including a Lelo Sona (good man), one guy got the Club Vibe 3.OH Hero after he'd killed another butt toy (admirable) and another reader, M, got the Lovelife Krush Smart Kegel Trainer to strengthen her nether regions. 

The delightful M wrote: "Yay! It's like winning the vagina lottery! My current partner will be pleased/horrified when I hands-free throttle his bishop in a few weeks (or months?) and I will think of you in a high-five way."

In a series of sentences of increasing awkwardness, as is my way, I replied to M with:
"You are super hilarious (okay, so far)
and I'm already a little in love with you. (um...)
will send out tomorrow. (a step towards acceptable discourse)
so enjoy your weak-ass, lax vagina while you can." (Dear God, self. WTF?) 

Anyway, lest you think my love was displaced, M kindly ignored my boorish vaginal dis (In the future, I probably wouldn't lead with this. Probably.) and sent me an actual postcard, like they did in the olden days:  "I would love to allow you to believe that I am as amusing as you seemed to think I was in my email, but the truth is that you caught me at a particularly good time. For some reason I tend to be more charismatic when I'm ovulating--creepy evolutionary catfishing?"

(This is a real thing! We are all evolutionary catfishers. See also Ovulation = Hormonal Beer Googles)

*****

You can hear me hurriedly reading my piece Drought on Antonia Hall's wholly delightful Experiments in Pleasure podcast, recorded when I sent my family on a ten-minute walk around the block. It's at the very end, like a David Sedaris/Sarah Vowell thing, if they were less funny and talked more about having sex with a bath spigot. 

Now, you. Tell me something interesting.*

xo
jill

*Unless it's super creepy**, then keep that @%@# to yourself.
**I reserve the sole right to determine creepiness, or lack thereof.