So, I am not shocked in the slightest that the alcohol, weed, and sex toy markets are doing darn well during this apocalpandemia; I’m pretty sure our household has helped those industries along ourselves. Here’s my funny (to me, but really just mainly awkward) I-bought-naughty-stuff story.

I bought a fucking machine. Yes. A machine that fucks. I’m not just using the word fucking as an expletive about a random machine, I bought a fucking machine, and get this, (gigglesnort) it’s called, “The Dicktator,” but I call him Burt (because of the standup comic Burt Kreischer and his “I am the machine” – Google it, it’s funny.). (I would like to apologize, I spend a lot more time alone these days and wooooo-boy! I find myself hilariously funny. I know from past experience that I’m my own best audience.)

Anywhoodle, this feels like a longer story than it needs to be – so, ordered this insanely expensive mechanical tool (giggle) and shipped it to the wrong address. I mean, it USED to be my address, but now I get mail delivery to the house (I live on an island, our set up is weird). So, I said, “OH NO!” and texted our very sweet, elderly, very religious mail lady (it’s a small island) and explained the package mixup. I did NOT explain the package contents and thankfully, she didn’t ask!

Happily, everything worked out okay in the end (snerk!) and I have had some most excellent threesomes with good ole’ Burt.