Well, once again it's Christmas, and I must admit I am not at all full of the spirit this year. Why? Well, you could say it's because my boyfriend and I split up, or that my parents got divorced and my dad got hitched to some woman he probably met on CL, or because I'm too fucking cheap to buy Christmas presents.
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Well, all of those things are true, but that's not what Scrooged me this Christmas. In fact, there's no Scrooging going on at all, because I'M NOT GETTING LAID. That's right, folks, I'm not getting any of the ho-ho-ho. No one, not even a fat man in a red suit, is squeezing down my chimney this Christmas. In the past six months, I've had sex exactly once, and it sucked. And I'm starting to get horny. Really horny.
There are ominous internal signs of my horniness. My hypothetical "age range" has increased by about ten years in either direction, so that I now carry three accessories in my purse for the right moment with that special guy: condoms, Viagra, and lollipops. I've had sexual fantasies involving the hairy-chested bartender at my favorite drinking establishment, the guy who delivers produce to the restaurant I work in, my forty-five-year-old married boss, a character in a novel I read (an imaginary man! Not only imaginary sex, but imaginary sex with an imaginary person!), John Cusack, the guy at the gym who always wears a Rage Against the Machine T-shirt, and that guy who comes into my restaurant every day with his laptop and orders coffee. I can only pray that my preoccupation goes unnoticed by my friends and coworkers.
So, you ask, why don't you just get it over with and get it on? It wouldn't be difficult. I'm attractive, in shape, late twenties, intelligent, decent sense of humor, up on current events, blah-de-freakin-blah. Not like any of that shit really matters to most guys, as long as you have a fully functional and disease-free female genitalia. Well, here's why I'm maintaining my abstinent streak and giving myself the gift that will keep on giving, an Aqua Rabbit waterproof vibrator:
1. My new vibrator will not start begging me for a blow job before I even get him out of the box.
2. My new vibrator will not ask me to "snuggle."
3. I will not have to make awkward post-coital conversation with my new vibrator. I won't even have to look at him. He'll be stashed neatly away in my nightstand drawer.
4. My new vibrator will not tell all the other household appliances that I like to do it doggystyle and be smacked on the ass with a wire hanger.
5. My new vibrator will not shut down just when I'm about to have an orgasm, and if he does, it's nothing that three fresh AA batteries can't fix.
6. There is no chance that my vibrator will give me an STD or impregnate me with a screaming, snot-tipped baby vibrator.
7. When I'm done, I can turn my new vibrator off and he won't grumble or try to lay a guilt trip on me. I won't have to endure ten more minutes of monotonous pounding while I stare at the ceiling and make up my daily to-do list in my head.
8. My vibrator will not steal the covers in the middle of the night or fart in bed.
9. My vibrator will not beg me to get a Brazilian bikini wax or any other costly procedure involving the ripping out of my taint hairs by a complete stranger.
10. Anytime I want to I can upgrade to the larger, more powerful Synergy model with oscillating action, six speeds, and five interchangeable attachments. My old vibrator will not threaten me, speed by my house at night with his stereo blaring, tell his friends I was a "psycho bitch," or call me up at 3 a.m. drunk and remind me of all the great times we had.
You know why? Because he's a fucking vibrator.
Merry Fucking Christmas!…and I mean that in the best possible way.