Commenting on the post below, Ask the Cool Cookie
urged me to shave and get out of the house and go do something, apparently in that order. I am always obedient to commands from cookies, so I did just that. Super Agent Fred and I were on the move at the crack of dawn, or possibly just after noon today. It looked like dawn to me. We went off to lunch (tasty,) browsed a fancy art supply store to look at $17 sheets of paper, and agreed to go see a Philip Glass opera on Sunday cause we’re all fancy and stuff.
We also dropped back by my house for me to unload some random stuff on him like R Man’s sketch pad and paper, a charming little dope pipe, and some clothes of Fred’s that had been floating around here for a while. I also tried to talk him in to taking some old sex toys of R Man’s, but he wasn’t having it. Still, it’s only your best friends on whom you can try to urge second hand naughty paraphernalia. By the way, if you’re looking for a pair of cuffs lined in the finest of sheepskin fleece, let me know.
Speaking of equipment one doesn’t run into at Macy’s, I bought a new plaything with the horrendously accurate name of Fleshlight Jackass. I refuse to post a picture of it. There are limits which even I will not cross. If you’re so fascinated, you can go look here
. Is everybody back now? Good.
The poor little thing is supposed to be an artificial butthole. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I mean, until they finally come up with the sex slave android I’ve been waiting for. And can I just say, it’s the 21st century, still no Judy Jetson apartment buildings on elevated stilts, still no Howard Johnson’s on the moon and still no Genuine Mario Lopez Model Sexbot™. What’s with that?
For those of you considering the Fleshlight Jackass, let me just say “Lame.” Wait for the sex androids and save your money, that’s my advice. I’d say the closest approximation to the experience would be a handjob from some guy who’s just had a stroke. Not that I would know. I’m just guessing.
Let me know when this rolls off the assembly line, m’kay?