For those who do not know, tomorrow, February 14th, is Singles Awareness Day. In layman's terms, this "holiday" is know as Valentine's Day. As two single ladies (All the single ladies, all the single ladies, all the single ladies. Now put your hands up! And thus ends the only Beyonce moment we will ever have. We were doing the dance a la SNL, in case you were wondering), we thought it would be polite of us to get the word out on this most unfortunate of days. If you are one of the fortunate ones to have some form of significant other for tomorrow, we salute you. (Note that our salute is coated in layers of sarcasm and crotchety, old cat lady bitterness.) But for all of our fellow singles, we ask that you join us in celebrating this most wonderous of holidays by going to your local CVS/Walgreens/Wal-Mart/Target/etc, and purchase a pack of those neat, little conversation hearts. Those sappy pieces of candy that taste like nothing in particular that look made of stamped chalk, that say little tidbits of cheesetastic Valentine's goodness like, "I Love You", or "Be Mine", or "Cutie Pie". Now why would we want you to purchace such offensive little morsels? Well, we have some instructions for you: upon seeing a couple, grab a handful of them and throw them at said couple, shouting phrases such as, "I DON'T Love You!", or "NO! You CAN'T Be Mine!", or, our personal favorite, "NO! I Will NOT Send You a Love Fax!" To which we say, who the hell faxes anymore? Please. Do NOT take this mission lightly, or as a joke. Just as something to brighten your day. (Note: this joke will made that much more hysterical if you run around dressed as Cupid. Really. Trust us.)
And so we end our Public Service Announcement. Our good deed for the day. Scout's Honor.
In case you guys didn't notice, we didn't post a blog yesterday, or on Wednesday, for various reasons. But boy! Did we have a day on Wednesday. We guess it had something to do with the fact that we discussed Pleasure Parties in our last blog and our friends read about it (Hi, guys!), but, for some odd reason that we really aren't up to investigating, our day seemed to revolve around the topic of sex. And rather awkwardly so.
It all started off with us walking through this little outdoor market, flea market style, but with odd, faux Obama shirts that declare "Obama's My Home Boy", and of course, The Condom Lady. Now Condom Lady is a rare breed, rarely seen in broad daylight, for they are creatures of the night. But on the very special occasion that they DO happen to venture out into the sun, it's to the market, a plate o' condoms in hand, ready to pounce on any unsuspecting victim, questions at the ready to make you squirm at the sheer thought of the answers. We were ever so fortunate to avoid The Condom Lady, for her fowardness frightened us and we scurried away, only to be comforted by the loving arms of the Muffin Man, a chocolate chip muffin in each hand to soothe our frazzled nerves. Well Played, Muffin Man. Well Played. And although we appreciate this blessing from the heavens that was the Muffin Man (and to a lesser extent, our rush to go to math class), we can help but wonder as to what The Condom Lady's questions would have been. We have thought of a few: "Do you NEED protection?", "Have you been tested for gonorrea?", "Do you know the time?", "Herpes! Are you familiar?", "How many times a week, on average, do you have sexual intercourse?", "Do you participate in such sexual intercourse?", "Do you masturbate?", "When you masturbate, do you focus on one area, or do you provide lovin' to your whole body?", "Do you know of an excellent restaurant?" But we do promise you this, Dear Reader: one day in the not-so-distant future, we will go on a safari, in hopes of encountering The Condom Lady, again. We swear.
Next order of business: The Todd. Oh, The Todd. That den of rampant uncensored sexuality, established in 1969. We must mention that the threshold of The Todd looks like something that we would expect a drunken trucker to be stumbling to at 2 AM, his hat askew, a finger rubbing his belly button as he stared at the photographs of the women on the front of all of the packagings, knowing that that's as close as he's going to get to that type of ass unless some form of payment is involved. And while the various toys and treats found within The Todd (no pun intended) stand out in their own special way, we can only think of a few things to say about the entire trip. One: the lingerie. Example: we kid you not, a costume was two separate strips of strategically placed playing cards hoping to pass for a bra and thong. Or the surprisingly covered up Girl Scout uniform, for those who are into that type of kink (Funny story about Girl Scouts. But that, dear friends, is for another day). All of it was so deliciously tacky, so ridiculously skanky that we can't help but applaud those who dare fit into those scraps of string and lace. But the cherry on the top of this proverbial ice cream sundae, was at the very end of our trip, when we were exiting The Todd. Taped to the side of the checkout counter was a poster for a Pirates of the Carribean-like porno with an all-female cast and, as we were leaving, one of our friends (a girl) says, as though it was no big deal, "Oh. I've seen that one before." And while that statement alone brought the lolz, it was the reaction from the guys behind the counter, who just about lost it as they doubled over in laughter. It was so unexpected from our friend that it was one of those great moments that we shall treasure: "Hey, guys. Remember that time? You know the one when we went to The Todd?" Oh, good times. Good times, indeed.
And so we end our Public Service Announcement. Our good deed for the day. Scout's Honor.
In case you guys didn't notice, we didn't post a blog yesterday, or on Wednesday, for various reasons. But boy! Did we have a day on Wednesday. We guess it had something to do with the fact that we discussed Pleasure Parties in our last blog and our friends read about it (Hi, guys!), but, for some odd reason that we really aren't up to investigating, our day seemed to revolve around the topic of sex. And rather awkwardly so.
It all started off with us walking through this little outdoor market, flea market style, but with odd, faux Obama shirts that declare "Obama's My Home Boy", and of course, The Condom Lady. Now Condom Lady is a rare breed, rarely seen in broad daylight, for they are creatures of the night. But on the very special occasion that they DO happen to venture out into the sun, it's to the market, a plate o' condoms in hand, ready to pounce on any unsuspecting victim, questions at the ready to make you squirm at the sheer thought of the answers. We were ever so fortunate to avoid The Condom Lady, for her fowardness frightened us and we scurried away, only to be comforted by the loving arms of the Muffin Man, a chocolate chip muffin in each hand to soothe our frazzled nerves. Well Played, Muffin Man. Well Played. And although we appreciate this blessing from the heavens that was the Muffin Man (and to a lesser extent, our rush to go to math class), we can help but wonder as to what The Condom Lady's questions would have been. We have thought of a few: "Do you NEED protection?", "Have you been tested for gonorrea?", "Do you know the time?", "Herpes! Are you familiar?", "How many times a week, on average, do you have sexual intercourse?", "Do you participate in such sexual intercourse?", "Do you masturbate?", "When you masturbate, do you focus on one area, or do you provide lovin' to your whole body?", "Do you know of an excellent restaurant?" But we do promise you this, Dear Reader: one day in the not-so-distant future, we will go on a safari, in hopes of encountering The Condom Lady, again. We swear.
Next order of business: The Todd. Oh, The Todd. That den of rampant uncensored sexuality, established in 1969. We must mention that the threshold of The Todd looks like something that we would expect a drunken trucker to be stumbling to at 2 AM, his hat askew, a finger rubbing his belly button as he stared at the photographs of the women on the front of all of the packagings, knowing that that's as close as he's going to get to that type of ass unless some form of payment is involved. And while the various toys and treats found within The Todd (no pun intended) stand out in their own special way, we can only think of a few things to say about the entire trip. One: the lingerie. Example: we kid you not, a costume was two separate strips of strategically placed playing cards hoping to pass for a bra and thong. Or the surprisingly covered up Girl Scout uniform, for those who are into that type of kink (Funny story about Girl Scouts. But that, dear friends, is for another day). All of it was so deliciously tacky, so ridiculously skanky that we can't help but applaud those who dare fit into those scraps of string and lace. But the cherry on the top of this proverbial ice cream sundae, was at the very end of our trip, when we were exiting The Todd. Taped to the side of the checkout counter was a poster for a Pirates of the Carribean-like porno with an all-female cast and, as we were leaving, one of our friends (a girl) says, as though it was no big deal, "Oh. I've seen that one before." And while that statement alone brought the lolz, it was the reaction from the guys behind the counter, who just about lost it as they doubled over in laughter. It was so unexpected from our friend that it was one of those great moments that we shall treasure: "Hey, guys. Remember that time? You know the one when we went to The Todd?" Oh, good times. Good times, indeed.
ahahahaha! So freaking hilarious!
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