July 19, 2005

Don't Mess With Orgasmatron

Another one of the reasons why I hate living at home is that I can't take advantage of the $.49 vibrator 'personal massager' sale going on.

Sure, I've used my vibrator once or twice (a Valentine's Day present to myself, which ended up being more trouble concealing than fun), but it sure would be nice to have one in every color, don't you think? Or at the very least, mix it up a bit. Or have one so that I have the option of mixing it up a bit.

But I can't justify shipping it home, because then family members will want to see what I got in the mail, especially because it'd be arriving around my birthday, and I don't have my roomn umber yet for the dorms, so I can't send it there.

Le sigh.

It's a good thing that I think vibrators are more trouble than they are worth (cleaning, the secrecy, etc). I mean, it's much easier to just zip up my pants if the roommate stumbles drunkenly through the front door than it is to hide a "personal massager."
Here lies a most ridiculous raw youth, indulging himself in the literary graces that he once vowed to eschew. Now he just rocks out.