So. I have been thinking a lot about what I want this blog to be about....I read a lot of writers blogs, and they have writing tips, book reviews, etc...but I just don't feel like that's what I wanna do. So I'm going to try something different.
Hilarious and or Embarrassing stuff always happens to me, and it's often inappropriate. Like, I can tell you in real life, but I don't need my 500+ fbook friends, and twitter followers to read it. Because people judge. It's true. So I figured my secrets are safe with you, my nine blog followers. So. Here we go.
I had a Passion Party the other day. For those of you who don't know what that is, it's a sex toy party. Nothing to crazy, just a few aesthetically pleasing dildos, a few bullets, lots of creams for various, uh, parts....and even some things for the fellas.
Anyways, I made some funny treats, and bought a tonne of wine.
Anyways, the party was great fun. People ate, drank, and shopped to their hearts content. Once everyone was gone I took the remaining wine and went down stairs. I saw two televisions ( we only have one) and promptly passed out.
So a few days pass, and my order comes in! Woohoo! I ordered some Pleasure Pearls, which aren't actually that pleasurable, especially if you have a lot of stairs to climb, some G-Spot Cream, and a lovely, bright pink vibrating dildo, complete with a butterfly stimulator. So. I took everything out of it's packages and gave them a nice thorough cleaning. Then they sat on my night stand, taunting me. The pink one scared me. It was a lot girthier then my wine hazed brain remembered. I decide to just relax, maybe watch a movie or something, and let my mind warm up to the idea. I open my side door so my dogs can have free reign, and pop some corn.
Around half an hour later, I hear a thump. I run upstairs and find nothing tipped over or broken, so I return to my movie. Another twenty minutes or so pass, and the dogs are silent. If you have dogs, you know this is not a good sign. I pop my head outside and find them playing with their toys. All good.
I decide to change into some shorts, so I go upstairs. Something isn't right. Something is missing. The bag of sex toys is gone. I look under my bed, I look on my bed. I look in the dog kennels, I look in the living room. I look everywhere.
Then I hear it. The faint tinkling of childrens laughter. I go outside. Boys are jumping on their trampoline, kids are playing next door while their parents BBQ. My dog is in the middle of the yard, fully exposed, gnawing on my pink, girthy, flutterfly. My other dog has successfully chewed the cap off the G Spot cream. The pleasure pearls fun oyster case is destroyed, the pearls scattered.
I turn fifty shades of red ( ha ha) and scamper about the yard picking things up. I then lock up the dogs and hide in my basement. I'm still in here. If anyone can drop off some food, it'd be appreciated.