Posts Tagged ‘hilarity’

TMI Thursday: The Little Death. That Delicious Little Death.

January 14, 2010 13 comments

You know how this works by now, loves. Welcome to TMI Thursday: The Sex Toy Edition

Word of warning before we start, I’m going to be talking about masturbation in this post. A lot. So if that kind of talk makes you uncomfortable, then please go here and come back another day.

You’re still here Reader?


It’s going to be an interesting ride to say the least.

My thought upon seeing the Pocket Gal was: “This isn’t going to cover me.”

But I figure I should give at least a little credence to one-size-fits-all and put it away. Not going to use it when I’m not horny. It’s like eating when you’re not hungry. No fun.

So come Tuesday, I was feeling The Itch.

Figuring I had about two hours before Scarlett got home from work, I decided to take my toy out for a spin.

Gotta admit though, I felt horribly weird at first.Then I got into it.

Having gone cold turkey for a while, my orgasm was more intense than normal. Had it not been for that I wouldn’t have gotten nearly as much use out of this thing. And when I say more intense, I mean my legs were like jelly and I had that glorious little high of post-orgasm happiness.

I tried it again last night for the purposes of my review and well, my opinion of it kind of lowered a bit.

Because I like to end things on a good note (TWSS), let’s start with the negative side of this sitch.

  1. The toy is short. We’re talking 4″ inches here. Unless you’re below-average length, there’ll be no going balls deep on this one. It is good for stimulating the tip of the penis and the ribbed texture does feel good but unless you’re going through a serious dry spell there is nothing spectacular on this front.
  2. The big problem I have here though? Cleaning. The end is open so you will have to clean up the mess afterwards. Plus this thing isn’t pure silicon so you can’t really sterilize it. Using a condom here is definitely recommended as that simplifies things greatly. Also would not recommend using this to practice oral skills on for this reason and the fact that it does not feel good to the tongue. At all. Don’t ask.

So on to the good side of things now.

  1. The material is transluscent so you can see yourself moving in and out. For those who are very visually stimulated, I can see this as a turn-on.
  2. This thing is superbly portable. I’ve checked and it fits into the pocket of jeans, coats, backpacks, or in luggage for those solo trips.
  3. Training. Guys and women who are thinking about getting this for their FWB/boyfriend/husband, remember how I said that this toy was short and good at stimulating the tip of your penis? This toy does work as a good, if not great, trainer as it is easier to control ejaculation with just the tip. What does this mean? More lasting power. Something I can’t imagine anyone would really complain about.

My final thoughts?

For my first toy, it is a decent go. It’s very affordable at a bit over $20 plus shipping. Works as a tool for orgasm training, if not oral. A bit on the short side, which was a negative for me, but I suppose it being termed the Pocket Gal is an apt description. All in all, it seems to be so OK it’s decent. Not too bad, not too good. Just average. Honestly, I suggest saving up for some of the better ones. The Fleshlight looks promising.

All in all, I give this one…

3 Katies Out of 5

‘Til next time loves…

*Seriously. This was a lot of fun to write.

**I seriously want to hug everyone who commented on Monday’s post. You people rock my socks.

***The “I’ll Be In My Bunk” image belongs to beefranck and is inspired by a line in Firefly. You can guess the meaning.


In The End, So Worth It

July 16, 2009 7 comments

They sit down on the bench, looking up as the city was silent and the stars were out in full force. Her arms wrapped around his elbow as they both waited for the other to start the conversation both knew had to happen.

“We’re not going to be able to keep this up once we leave.” He’s the more pragmatic of the two.

“Would you want to?”

“Yes,” He saw no reason to hesitate or lie now.


“Because I honestly like you and have started to love you as a friend.”

“I must admit it; I will miss that blunt honesty. So the sex has nothing to do with it?”

“This whole thing has pretty much convinced me beyond doubt I’m not programmed for casual sex. Case in point, our one-nighter turned into a month long fling.”

“Just a fling?”

“We kept it that way. Why is something I’m not sure of.”

“One, the distance. Two, neither of us is ready for more. I still love [Tony] and you are only just getting over [Eva]. Not to mention the fact that both of us are pretty much open sores on legs.”

“That’s a lovely mental image.”

She elbows him swiftly in the stomach accompanied with a brown-eyed glare.

“No one likes a smartass.”

“You do.”

“Hmm, true enough.”

“So what does this make us?”

“Friends. With the definite potential for more” She kisses him on the cheek then on the lips before shifting to half-sit in his lap. She gives him a wicked smile before moving.


“Coming from you, that’s rich.”

He sticks out his tongue. “I think if not for the fact that we’re both still hurt, we would be dating right now. But I must admit that the past month has been fun. Plus I get a friend out of the deal.”

“You are the only person I know who from serious to silly that quickly.”

“I defy description Dear so don’t bother trying.” He pauses. “This could just mean I’m nuts but how would I know?”

“Point.” She sees him about to open his mouth. “Mind out of the gutter. You do know that I expect you to come to the beach to visit.”

“You never have to try hard to get me to come to the beach.”

“And if we are both still single and attracted to each other?”

“Then we deal with it when it happens. No use worrying over it now. For the moment, we are friends, anything else can come later.”

He hugs her, feeling her nuzzle against his cheek as she returns it.

“Shall we head back in?”

He doesn’t answer but slides from under her to stand and hold out his hand. As she takes it, they walk inside the building. They end up talking until the Sun begins to peak through the trees about everything from school to Twilight to the heaven that is apple pie. Future looks bright indeed.

While both have been burned by love, the past month had healed a bit of the damage. Both would tell you it was completely worth it.

*Ex-SO names changed to protect privacy.

TMI Thursday: Blissful Ignorance FAIL

July 2, 2009 9 comments

TMI Thursday

As Lilu always says: “Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!”

It recently occurred to me that I had covered almost every bodily function except piss. This oversight shall now be corrected.

This little nugget takes places years ago, when Clinton was still president, Fbook didn’t exist, and I was still innocent.

Now when I was younger, I was a wild sleeper. It was not uncommon for me to wake up halfway sprawled on the floor in the middle of the night. Nor was it for me to find myself bruised from banging against the wall.

Apparently somewhere down the line, I picked up the nifty habit of sleepwalking.

Once when my mom’s much younger sister was spending the night with us, I tried to go out the front door at 3 AM. The only reason I didn’t make it out was because our alarm went off.

For the next year, I’d have various incidents in my sleep like trying to eat one of my sister’s dolls or once finding myself laying on the kitchen floor. Weird shit like that.

The last incident, now that was a doozy.

I woke up one morning, showered and got ready to catch the bus. I notice my mom and sister giving me weird looks but don’t pay much attention to it. As I’m walking into the kitchen I notice a few drops of yellow liquid on the floor, again I write it off.

It’s when I see that our trashcan has been cleaned overnight and still smells of bleach that I start putting things together.

The final clue? I remember using the bathroom in my dreams.

The conclusion I reached…yeah, not pretty.

As soon as I get home, I ask my mom if I did anything weird the night before. She changes the subject. I ask my sister. Same thing.

To this day, I still don’t know for sure if I pissed in our trash can in my sleep. If so, I’ll just call it early practice for those nights where I’m drunk enough to piss in strange places (hasn’t happened yet to my knowledge).

Whoever said ignorance was bliss should be punched in the crotch.

This Rainbow Tastes Like Righteous Fury

March 19, 2009 4 comments

Clark Kent: “How was your St. Patrick’s day Mr. Kendall?”

Me: “Just great CK, although it took me a while to wash the green out of my hair.”

Skittles: “Your hair was green?!”

Me: “Hey I’ve seen the pictures from yesterday, your face was green so don’t even.”

Group of little girls across from jungle gym: “Hey CK!” [cue giggles]

Skittles growls under her breath while CK looks like he’s praying for a hole to open up underneath him.

Me: “What was that all about?”

CK: “Well you see…uhm…”

Skittles: “Those…girls decided to kiss him yesterday because he’s isish.”

Me: “You mean Irish.”

Skittles: “That’s what I said. So now they always want to hang out with him.”

As I watched Skittles stare them down in all of her 3’4″ blond fury, I had a sudden daydream. She’s dressed in the white gi of Ryu from Street Fighter, two of the girls laid out cold at her feet while the last is on her last legs. Skittles roars and with a cry of “Shin Shoryuken!” uppercuts her while jumping into the land. The girl falls to the ground while Skittles pumps a fist in glory. Over her head the word PERFECT appears.

I shake my head to clear it and give a pitying look to a beet red CK.

Me: “Skittles, why don’t you two go seesaw or swing instead of glaring holes through other girls.”

She brightens up, taps CK on the shoulder, yells out “TAG!” before taking off. CK, with all the attention span of a 6 year-old  boy, takes off after her yelling.

Who needs soap operas when you have first graders?

Life On Tobacco Road

March 10, 2009 4 comments

This is to help me calm down after certain comments made during lunch today. Enjoy kids.

How can you tell if someone has relatively close ties to North Carolina?

Easy. Ask about their opinion on college basketball.

You may find a few diehard NC State fans (bless their little loyal hearts) but the majority will answer with a reply of varying vehemence supporting one of the Tobacco Road schools. If  their answer is none of the above then they either do not follow college basketball, are not from here, or are not human in which case you should ignore them.

I kid, I kid.

But seriously, the UNC-Chapel Hill/Duke rivalry is a brutal cult to those uninitiated. To those who grew up with it or go to one of the aforementioned schools, it’s a way of life. “Survival of the fittest” at its best.

My mom, even 21 years after her graduation, is still a devout fan. March Madness was a holiday onto its own in my family where we would all gather at my house and watch the heels make their way to the top. The volume at these gatherings was such that you could stand at the end of the driveway and be able to tell how the game was faring. Hell, my mom has a piece of Carmichael Auditorium on a plaque in the study of our house, next to an autographed Michael Jordan poster.

The students in both cities largely view the other side with distaste. I have never had one of my friends here disagree with my choice to date Eva (who is both white and a mom). Their only possible problem with her? She’s a Duke student/deluded basketball fan. This time I’m not kidding.

So when UNC beats Duke twice (looking for a clean sweep) the city explodes into a celebration rivaling that of a NCAA Championship win. People climbing up street lights only to be foiled by the grease cops applied beforehand, girls flashing strangers for beads, spontaneous keg parties, and a few thousand gathering on Franklin Street chanting the fight song. Craziness.

To close, I’d like to share with you one of the greatest Youtube videos I’ve ever seen. It could be considered a bit NSFW because of language.

Conversations With A 4 Year-Old

March 5, 2009 6 comments

“Hi Papa, I have to ask you something.”

“Of course Daybreak, what do you need to know?”

“Well,” I can practically hear her twirling her hair over the phone. “Mommy wants to know if you want to eat with us.”

“[Eva] wants to know or do you want to know?”

“Umm…umm…” She whispers (in the loud way kids do). “Mommy is just too shy to say it.”

Oh really? Your mom who is even less shy than I am? Riiiiiiiight.

“Well I have to work until tonight Sweetie but if you ask your mom nicely, maybe she’ll want to see me as well.”

She pipes a yes before I can hear her talking to Eva in the background.

“She said yes and…what was I supposed to say again Mommy?” I hear Eva sigh and speak before Daybreak continues. “She said we can have pizza tonight. So how has your day been Papa?”

“Eh it’s been just fine [Daybreak]. I’m just a bit tired.”

“You need a nap Papa, do you want me to read you a story?”

Before I can tell her no, it’s OK she has launched into a very spirited retelling of The Emperor’s New Clothes. As she finished she goes, “and the moral of the story is that you are just better off without clothes.”

“I don’t think that’s what the moral is supposed to be Sweetie.”

“But if he was nakey, he’d be free Papa.”

You know how people say you get what you did to your parents turned back on you with your own children? This must be what I get for those times I would shuck clothes as soon (or even before) I got into the house.

TMI Thursday: Open Mouth, Insert Aunt Flow

February 19, 2009 13 comments


Apparently in a previous life, I looked up at both Murphy and Karma, flipped them off, before pissing in their cereal bowls. That’s the only explanation I can think to describe Tuesday’s situation.

It is normally pretty hard for me and Eva to spend time together in the middle of the week so when an opportunity arises we’ll more than likely take advantage of it.

So when I get a text message during class asking if I had time to meet Eva back at my apartment for lunch and sex, I was all too happy to say yes. I pick up some Chick Fil-A for us both on my way home and meet her down in the parking lot of my complex.

Actually let’s skip the food and conversation to get right down to the nitty gritty.

Now I love oral sex. Both giving and receiving. So as I’m relieving some of Eva’s stress, I notice she starts to squirm and thinking it’s just an orgasm I keep focused on my task. As I was expecting fluid to leak into my mouth, I wasn’t at all surprised when something hit my tongue.

Then I notice that what I’m tasting has a copper taste to. In fact it tasted a bit like…

My eyes shot wide open and I had hopped off the bed and shot toward the bathroom sink in the span of less than ten seconds. By the time Eva realized I had moved away, I was all ready brushing my teeth vigorously. I spat the toothpaste down the drain before rinsing my mouth out and going back into my bedroom.

Apparently there was still some blood on my chin as Eva thought my sudden departure was due to injury. “Did you bite your tongue open or something?”

I shake my head.

“Then where did the blood on your lips and face come…from…please tell me that what I think happened did not really happen?”

I nod.

“You mean I started my period while you were licking me?”

I nod again.

She covers her head with one of my pillows and lets out a muffled scream. I go over to her ginormous purse, riffle through it for a few moments, find a tampon, and place it in her hand. She goes off to put it in while I try and wrap my mind around what just happened.

When she comes back into my room, all plugged up, she looks down at herself and asks out loud why her period had to come early and “can’t a girl just get laid around here?”

I start to snicker.

She gives me a death glare. I start to actually laugh.

She huffs and throws a pillow at me. I take it to the head and am now nearly crying from laughter.

As I’m wiping the tears from my eyes, she asks in her most indignant tone just what about this was funny.

I look at her for a minute, shrug, and say that this must be karma’s payback for me vomiting on her boobs.