Incidentally, I also put together a storage thingie. I used a hammer and of course, hammered my thumb. Oh, the agony. And then, I tripped over the hammer and the claw part ripped a big chunk of skin out of my foot. In conclusion, I hate hammers.
I think I might be a prude. Which is odd to me, considering my near encyclopedic knowledge of sex things (you know what they say-those who can't, teach). But I was faced with something that a friend did and I realized that I would never, ever, EVER lick Jack Daniels off of a strange man's stomach and dildo in front a room full of people, or even alone, I guess. That just seems gross to me. So, I guess I'm a prude. Or sober. Either way, it puts a definite cramp in any potential future perversions. Bummer.
Oh well. At least if I run for political office in the future, I won't have to worry about pictures getting out. The craziest thing I've ever had caught on film was the time I drove Mistress Chicken's dualie (doolie-you know, the really big trucks with six wheels instead of four.) around a city block.
I know. I'm a wild child. Completely out of control. Somebody stop me!