Instead of being a fucktard all by myself on a Saturday night, I actually got to be a fucktard with someone else for once.
Tonight was a night of many firsts, and not only in the sense that I actually like, did something other than palpating my own teres major or discovering my quadratus lumborum. This marks the first time I went to a sex shop with a co-worker.
Josh and I are going to make lots of sly remarks about "last night" and dildos at work tomorrow, although keeping a straight face will probably be futile and we'll blow our cover and tell everybody why we really went to VIP.
No, dirties, I didn't buy anything to use on my own coonever. (As for Josh, he was torn between the Antonio Banderas blow-up doll and the Lil' Bow Wow Pocket Ass, but he's saving to study kung fu in China and, therefore, luxuries are unattainable on a Nature's Way salary). We were at the Gay Stand (Starbucks) until they kicked us out, and, since I'd expressed a great hankering for a new corset, he graciously volunteered to go shopping with me if I had nothing else to do. (The guy's a gem, what can I say?)
We saw some great stuff. There's a plaster penis party kit, perfect for making a mold of your own penis so you can stick it up your own ass. They also had a buttplug with peacock feathers attached--because if you're going to stick things up your butt, they may as well have feathers! And they had things in the bondage cage that, even with our pooled dirty minds, we couldn't figure out a use for!
Anyway, yeah. It's refreshing to know somebody who's seen my full fucktard potential and isn't completely scared of me...yet.
Ah, yes. Time to go eat some Healthy Handfuls, which are like Goldfish crackers, but shaped like ducks. With a name like Healthy Handfuls, though, you may as well be talking about my perky little boobs. It's such a positive way of describing a small chest. A nice little handful, complete with happy nipples. It's ironic how women get implants to "feel sexy," but most of them end up losing all nippular sensation, thus making one wonder who really benefits from augmentation....but that's a whooooole other story. It's about time, though, that somebody stood up and said, "DAMMIT, my small breasts are sexy!" The paradigm won't change until somebody makes that call.
Anyway. I need to sleep. Ughhhhhh.
Lucky that my breasts are small and humble, so you don't confuse them with mammary glands.