I find a blogpost that meant a lot to me. So much so, that I yank it out of the archives and repost it. This particular one struck me as so funny…especially since I am spending a lot of time alone lately…*cough*.
Have a great weekend.
Masturbation…Jewish Princess style…
(February 27th, 2006)
so there I was, minding my own business.
No. Really. I was.
“Minding my own business” is probably a very polite way of saying “so I was in front of the computer, getting myself off, when all of a sudden…”
Oh yeah. Like you don’t. Pffft. Whatever.
Let me take you back, back, back…way back, to a time before the hotband was in the picture. To a time when internet porn reigned supreme in CP’s life, because frankly A) I was checking out women, not men, B) The ex was a little lacking in the “give it to me night and day, baby” department and finally C) I don’t know. I was bored, it was there.
Again. Don’t judge me. You know damn well you do it too. You just don’t admit it on your blogs.
So there I am, in my computer chair. No kids at home. No (ex) husband was home at the time. It was just me, my computer and my portable little friend, Buzz Lightyear.
*blinks* Yeah. Like you don’t have a name for your vibrators (and/or penises!).
Lawdy, so judgmental!
I am pullin’ up some sweetass lesbo porn, a few threesomes, some gangbangs, couple of upskirts…you know, your average male porn, except it was being enjoyed by me…a female. Isn’t that so erotic? *eye roll* (I can literally hear my hotband panting all the way from NYC) *snort* HONEY! You’ve heard this story already. Get over it.
Anyway, when I feel I am primed and supremely ready for the thrills to begin, CLICK! On goes Buzz Lightyear! Yes! TAKE ME THERE! To Infinity…and BEYOND! Mouse in the right hand, Buzz in my left (yes, I am ambidextrous. I am also sodium free and low in monotriglycerides) and going to funky town! Wee hoo! When all of a sudden…
My nail breaks.
Now, most women would have ignored this completely and continued with their quest to find the honeypot, the top of the mountain, the promised land. Nope. Not CP. I cannot bear to look at the brunette babe, spread-eagle in front of me, a vision of celluloid perfection…WHILE I AM SPORTING A BROKEN NAIL! No. The Jewish princess in me takes over. This simply will not do. I mean, come on. How tacky is this? I won’t even look at porn that has a poorly manicured or pedicured model. It’s not that I am a porn snob, it’s just that I am…well, okay, so I’m a porn snob. But if I expect the most from my porn, then dammit, I will be nothing less than perfect when I cum too!
I place Buzz down on my bare lap, pants down around my ankles and lean down to my purse to get out my nail glue.
*stab stab stab the top of the tube of glue with safety pin and SQQQQQQQUUUUUUUUUUEEEEEZE…*
Crazy glue explodes everywhere. CP drops her fingernail. Bends over to pick up said fingernail, gluing her extremely large tits to the crazy glue that has pooled in her lap.
“SHIT!” exclaims CP.
“Bzzzzzzz,” replies Buzz Lightyear with a muffled cry from below my mammaries.
“HA!” snorts extremely hot brunette spread eagle on my computer screen. If she could be laughing at me, she would be.
“What the fuck could be worse than this,” thinks CP aloud, while trying to dislodge her vibrator from between her nipple and her labia.
*sound of garage door opening*
“HOLY FUCK,” I shriek, and jump jump jump, bent over, ass out, tits glued to thighs, into my bathroom and turn on the shower.
“Honey,” says the (ex) husband, “are you here?”
“I’m in the shower,” I call back.
“But I’m here,” says the hot brunette still dangling on the computer screen.
It was sort of hard explaining to my (ex) husband why there was a naked woman on my computer monitor.
“There was??? Really???” I feign complete ignorance. “Oh my gosh, someone must have sent me a virus.”
After 8 years, I think the patch of skin on my upper thigh is finally the same color as the rest of my thigh. For a long time, I had a tell-tale dildo shaped white spot where my tan tore away in the shape of my vibrator.
I now refer to it as my “birthmark”. It’s this version of the story that allows me to keep my PTA membership intact.