Girls and Their Toys

This is the first week of school back for all of us, and I've been up to my eyeballs in chapters upon chapters of Police Procedures, Substantive Criminal Law, and Legal Ethics. Pretty dry stuff. Haven't had much of a chance to post and read, so I'm reposting a little ditty I wrote earlier this month as a guest post on Dutchy's blog.

I thought it was pretty funny, and wanted to save it on my blog just in case Dutchy has some terrible blog accident or something (knock on wood)!

Be back as soon as I catch my breath! XOXO

If you've ever read my blog before, you already know that I'm a bit anal retentive.

Ok, that's probably an understatement.

If you have, I'm sure you understand my sentiments about "If you want a job done right, do it yourself!"

No wishy-washy half-assedness around here, By Golly, and I've never been the kind of girl who indulges in---well--- appliances to help me along, if you know what I mean. [wink wink, nudge nudge]

That said, over the years, between boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, and friendly strangers, I've always found that doing my "business" myself by hand has ultimately given me the greatest satisfaction.

I guess this would be perfect if I was a hermit, but I crave companionship. It's not as fun doing it all by myself.

But really, how many times can you say to someone (especially to someone you love) "Apply yourself a little more to the left!" or "Not so choppy!" or "Steady strokes are the most efficient" or even "Damn, you made a mess before I even got started. Could you get a towel and clean this up?" before you want to get your hand in there and finish it once and for all by yourself?

Most of the time I could have simply chased him/her/them out of the room and polished off the job on my own in two minutes with less mess and fuss and be enormously happy!

Luckily I'm married to a very understanding guy who, after he gets done with what he feels is HIS part, is probably relieved to roll over and take a nap, be banished to the garage, or better yet the TV room to watch football.

There he can feel manly without having to bow under the weight of my disappointed gaze.

Since I hit the big Four-Oh this year, however, I've been craving change.

Plus my hands are a little tired.

Late one night I was up and caught an infomercial on cable. Grown-ups sitting around a table communing with froofy cocktails and eating exotic dips with chips. Men looking aroused and yet relieved, women appearing satiated and yet still excited.

One was actually smoking a cigarette with a gratified smile, even in this overly PC day and age.

I wanted to be there with them. I wanted to BE them! What were they selling that grabbed me so fervently in my girly parts?

A bullet. A silver bullet. A magical silver bullet. With unlimited power! I pulled out my credit card and ordered right away.

Within a week, I got my bullet in a discreet brown box. No absurdly flashy company logo proclaiming the contents that had to be hidden from my husband, children or mail carrier in case they shock or traumatize easily.

I can't begin to tell you how it's changed my life!

Its smooth silver body is not too big or too small. It's absolutely the perfect size to get the job done! It has multiple accessories, but I'm not quite that adventurous yet.

I can use it for hours.

It doesn't complain that it's tired. It doesn't complain that I'm impossible to please.

It doesn't complain if I don't shave my legs.

Hell, I could accidentally pop a fluffy, and it won't run out of the room screaming that I'm gross and I've ruined everything!

After an hour or two alone with my beautiful silver bullet I feel so energized that I could take on a crowd of 50 or more---men or women alike. I could take on the high school football team. I could take on the Rotary Club or the Chamber of Commerce.

Dare I say it? I could even take on the PTA, and give those bitches something to smile about. They'd be so contented they'd have trouble walking out of the room!

My bullet has turned me into an insatiable slut of the first order.

I've never done a product-placement post, and this isn't one now. It's an honest-to-gosh endorsement.

I truly believe that every man or woman could enhance their lives with this product. This silver bullet would be the perfect gift for everyone on your holiday list, especially for those who have inflamed joints or arthritis.

I wouldn't give it to kids though.

In this day and age, where almost everything can be accomplished electronically, I think that introducing this product at too young of an age could be potentially harmful.

If young people don't learn how to "do" it by hand, how are they going to cope if say---the power goes off, or there's an internal electrical malfunction in the unit?

And if they don't know how to take care of themselves manually, they might just stumble around bereft, walking into walls, literally starving for some "lovin' in the oven".

Some of today's kids are stupid that way. If they go to a library to use the computers and the Internet connection is down, they'll pace in circles muttering, "Well damn! I've got nothing to read!"

Doh!

It might be a great going-to-college gift for a young person. I mean, if they haven't figured out how to "do it by themselves" before then, they'll probably never get the hang of it.

For a wonderful view of this amazing bullet, click here. Don't worry, it's safe for work.

No lascivious, drooling pictures of nymphos showing their stuff.

Oh wait, were you expecting this?

Ha. ;-)