Well, well, welll! What do we have here? Bet you didn’t expect to see me ’round these parts after Monday’s big manifesto. But just goes to show how surprising life can be. Sometimes you don’t feel like blogging and then life throws a dildo at your feet and suddenly you’re full of inspiration.
Oh, that’s not a gross metaphor. Just a true anecdote from the disgusting metropolis I call home.
I spotted this um, big boy, on my commute home the other night, just laying on the dirty grate outside of my subway stop, directly next to the artisinal pickle stand.
That’s also not a metaphor, they really sell real pickles.
I spotted it out of the corner of my eye and kept walking past and then the second my brain registered “that’s what you think it is!!!” I screeched to a halt and whipped out my camera faster than you could yell “stray weiner!” and the pickle sales guy saw me and was like “oh hey did you drop something” and I was like “oh yeah!” and he may have been vaguely sexually harassing me but the whole thing was just too surreal for me to get my #yesallwomen hat out so I just laughed and ran away.
WHAT A WEIRD GROSS DIRTY CITY THIS IS!!
Also so sad for whoever dropped this 😦
This is the second best piece of sexual paraphernalia I found on the streets of this town, the first being an unmarked DVD case, inside of which was a disc labeled “Grandpa and the Shemales” which my friends and I found late late laaate one night leaving a bar back when we were young and cool and stayed out until 4 AM. We took this dirty porno out of the gutter (whyyy?) and went home and popped the disc into the DVD player (kids, this is what people used before Netflix was invented) and made it about three point eight seconds before turning it off in horror. Even in a fuzzy stupor of a million Miller Lights or whatever it was we consumed back in our youth, this video was TOO MUCH. Just too much. Basically a greatest hists compilation of all the most perverse perversities you can think of. Actually if you can think of the things that we saw on this DVD I don’t even want to know you because you are DIRTAY. Normally I’d be like “whatever floats your boat!” but even my alleged open-mindedness has it’s limits and maybe sometimes DON’T FLOAT YOUR BOAT, you boat should sink, you freaky DEAK.
Obviously I still own this DVD and, though I find it utterly grotesque and dirty on literally every level from the physical -it did come from the gutter, after all – to the psychological, it is my most treasured possession and I have now moved it with me to three separate apartments.
Perhaps I am the freaky deak?
I did, however, leave the errant dildo laying on the street, don’t worry.
I really hope my mom’s reading this now. She must be SO PROUD.
To cleanse your palate, here is a story totally free of dildos. At least to my knowledge – you never know what weird stuff people are up to.
Star of the story: This Cup
I am obsessed with hydration to a level bordering on insane. I always drink at least the recommended 64-oz of H2O per day if not much more. I never leave home without a water bottle and at work, am constantly filling and chugging and re-filling this big sippy cup. I remember in high school the field hockey coach was kind of scary – I didn’t play field hockey, I lack the hand-eye skills – but there was this rumor (or real story? Who remembers these things!) going around that she wanted the girls on the team to stay hydrated so she would check the color of their pee at the end of the day and if it wasn’t totally clear, she’d yell at them.
Did I make this up? What a weird thing to make up, but even weirder, I guess if it is true. Anyway that was the first time I learned about visible signs of dehydration and have been totally obsessed with the color of my urine ever since and get way stressed if my pee isn’t clear.
Why on EARTH do I feel like this is an appropriate fact to unleash on the world the world? I need help. I am clearly subscribing to the Lena Dunham school of over-sharing.
I am the voice and clear pee of my generation!
Good lord, Liz.
ANYWAY, the other day I went to fill up my water for probably the eighty-fifth time. The office water cooler is right inside the entry to our little kitchenette, so usually there’s a bit of a jam up to get to the microwave or the fridge or whatever. As I was filling my water, a young gentleman colleague I’d never seen before was reheating something in the mikey. I filled my cup, set it down on top of the water cooler, idly screwed on the lid and made the major rookie mistake of picking it up by said lid.
Big mistake. HUGE.
I must not have screwed it on tightly enough because suddenly all I had in my hand was the lid, the cup flew to the floor and water was EVERYWHERE.
I am not joking. It remains the greatest mystery of science to me how liquid can seem so small when in a cup but when spilled, appears to grow by a billion gallons. I had water on my pants, on my shoes, it was all over the water cooler, the floor…the rando young man heating up his leftover Chinese food.
Instead of being mad, he seemed deeply concerned for my safety, probably because instead of just calmly reacting like a normal human, I loudly gawped and yelped and flung my gangly arms all over the place and generally made a scene.
Oy yoy YOY.
I then went into the bathroom to dry off and ran into two colleagues at the sinks. I recounted the story and the first response outta both of them was “THAT’S going on the blog” because I am a cliche of myself at this point.
WOW this whole post just makes me sound like a raving madwoman. Owning it. Thirty and Flirty and Oversharing About Pee and Dildos. All Day. Errryday.
Have a GREAT weekend, you guys!! What are you up to? We’re going to an Indian engagement party out in NJ to visit Brian’s parents (ugh, the inlaws. Am I right, folks?! Whackawhacka) and also attend an Indian engagement ceremony which means I get to wear my sari again! Holla!
Peace, Love and Hydration,