In keeping with Menopausal Stoners mission to bring more alternative sex concepts into the mainstream, I lifted this clip from BlondeSense:
For many of us, vibrators and other sex toys are ancient history. When I was in Houston back in the spring, however, I was compelled to point out to my mother that Walgreens had cleverly discrete vibrators on the shelves. Mom is uptight about sex stuff - most likely as a result of having so many stepfathers. Not that there was anything "wrong" with any of the stepfathers, per se, but Mother sometimes found it annoying that Granny the Ho was frequently so sexually intoxicated that she neglected her children. At least that's the way Mother sees it - could be Granny was making sure there were groceries on the table. Career options were limited for women in those days, and Granny worked as a seamstress at a department store when she was between husbands.
After Granny headed West in the mid-sixties, to Laguna Beach, CA where the substance abusing side of the family had settled, she worked in a car wash.
We had a stroke of luck week. A thunderstorm with an unusual amount of wind passed through the neighborhood snapping trees in half and everything. Central Park is still a mess, but our parking lot is cleaned up now. Fortunately, my little Subaru, fondly known as the Bird Shit Mobile, suffered no damage. Given that one of the trees we lost from our parking lot happened to be right in front of my car, I consider it particularly lucky that flying branches missed the Bird Shit Mobile. Birds always perched in the branches of that tree and shit on my car. You would think that a thunderstorm with that much wind and rain would be strong enough to dislodge the baked-on bird shit from the hood of my car, but No. That's how much bird shit regularly dropped on my car from the tree that fell down. It's always a shame to lose trees, but if one had to go, that one was a blessing.
We celebrate small blessings here at Menopausal Stoner World Headquarters - the world outside is simply too depressing otherwise.
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9 comments:
Hi Trish
A blessing, indeed. Too bad about the tree but hey? And now you will have to re-name your car. Always something. :-)
Love the dildo clip, hysterical.
Love Gail
peace.....
Autoeroticism is for EVERYONE! Complete sexual solipsism!
http://www.adultlovemachine.com/love-machine.html
See, also: Sybian & Jetaime...
In a funny way, these machines are the perfect illustration of why men in traditional patriarchies so jealously guard, and often seek to diminish female sexuality--the male's certain knowledge that his woman COULD entertain many more men than he without any diminishment of the pleasure...
If men could auto-fellate, we'd never leave the house...
My parents have been divorced since I was seven (over 30 years ago and they were married for over 25 years). A few years back, after many, many glasses of wine at dinner, my mom casually asked me what an orgasm is.
No wonder they got divorced...
She's so painfully innocent, I didn't have the heart to tell her she is missing just about *the* best thing about being a corporeal being. But I could not bring myself to take her vibrator shopping. Can't. do. it.
Wonder if one of my older sissies would do it? I'm thinking blog post here...
Lord Lord Lord - imagine being married all those years and not knowing what an orgasm is. Fortunately, I knew before I got married ;)
Glad you liked the clip, Woody
Gail, Velvet wants to name the car Conan the Car. He's already thinking it's his car.
Im surprised that Walgreens now carries Vibes - oh how funny!
I bought mine online and thankgod they were sent in discreet looking packages especially when the mailman delivered to my door!
We have one of those adult stores but I wouldn't be caught dead in there alone!
TOO funny. Made me laugh.
dissed, making you laugh makes my day.
ps to Woody: looks like I'm adding a couple of new bookmarks ;)
Wait -- women have orgasms ?
My mother was way too WASPy to ever acknowledge the existence of such things and probably to use them, though I'd rather not think about that.
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