When you think Dildo Party, you think of me.

Some people you look at and get to know and you have a good idea of their interests and things they would enjoy.  One of my more rural friends enjoys woodworking and just through a 10 minute chat with him, a new friend had discerned that he would thrive at an arts workshop later next year.  Amazon knows what you're going to like based upon things you look at, have on your wishlist or have purchased in the past.  They know that I like hair gel, Stephen King and whippets?  Wait, what was that last one?  I'm not necessarily a fan of whippets.  I've never done them, but I look at some fucked up shit on the internet I suppose and so one morning I received this email:


One thing rings true to so many ladies that they will always think of me for a certain event.  It's not brunch, it's not shopping at the mall, rollerskating, hiking, paint-your-own-pottery or pogs.  Those are all things I'd be totally stoked about. However, no one can come across a Passion Party and not invite me.  There is something about my personality that SCREAMS "I love dong parties!"  In case you aren't aware, a Passion Party or Sexy Sleepover is a "party" that someone has at their house.  It's a lot like a tupperware party or a Mary Kay think, it's sex toys.  Instead of buying food storage containers, you can order sex lubes with a bunch of friends (or family........ ................)  Instead of trying on different lipsticks and perfumes, you can purchase porn and handcuffs and dildos.

I'm not a prude.  I'm just not into parties where the only time you invite me somewhere is when you're trying to sell me something.  That's not a party, my dudes.  Let me tell you a little bit about what a party actually is. On Saturday night I invited many of my & my boyfriend's friends over the house to drink, eat, chat, laugh, fuck around and not give us any money.  We put up a bunch in effort and money to provide merriment for people we like!  I'm not complaining about any of it - we love to entertain.  What isn't a party in my book is when the only time you invite me to your house is when you have like no good snacks, no thoughtful cocktails and you want me to BUY THINGS.  No!  At least a garage sale is straight forward.  It is a SALE. Don't trick me into thinking something is a party when it's a sales pitch!

I've been invited to lots of "parties" and turned them down.  I don't want to buy dip mix, overpriced jewelry, or dildos.  I mean of course I want to buy dildos, but preferably from the comfort and anonymity of my own home.  I have turned down SO many dildo party invitations, it's not even funny.  I think the most notorious dongtervention I've turned down was the one my ex husband's sister-in-law threw for me the night before my wedding, inviting all the ladies in the family.  My ex's mother, his aunt, his grandmothers, even his great aunt WHO IS ALSO A NUN.  WHAT EVEN IS THAT I CAN'T KNOW.  I said no thanks and spent the evening before my wedding in the hot tub at the hotel with my real bitches.

The day has come though where I've finally caved and accepted an invitation to a buttplug soiree.  A cousin of mine is having one for her birthday.  Soooo... I don't know, there's that.  I've finally been broken down and my will eroded enough over time that I have accepted the fact that I'm going to a vibrator fiesta and I'm OK with that.  I'm not gonna lie, I could USE a new vibrator.  I am almost ashamed to admit that I have left a path of broken vibrators in my wake.  Maybe not "ashamed" but confused.... I'm not a marathon masturbator and I sure as hell don't slam 'em that hard or anything, but I keep breaking them.  As Jaclyn put it "it needs to be built for mileage, because I ride 'em to Tiajuana."  So fine.  You invite me to a dildo party?  Be prepared.  You wanna know what kind of messed up shit I like to do with my private parts, that's on you.  I'm gonna ask the party consultant a lot of awkward questions.  "What's the MPG on this rabbit, anyways?" or "Do you have a tester?"  To make things even more interesting, I'll bring my own vibrator, and ask "What, I thought you traded in your old one for credit, like a used car!"

Wish me luck.  I'll let ya know how it goes.

Labels: , ,