Friday, October 04, 2013

No, I'm a PROFESSIONAL Spokeswhore!

We walked arm in arm to find some cola and water, and managed to do so after wandering around to about five different tents. Our wandering took us past the carny game where you swing a big hammer and maybe win something for hitting the bell.

“I’ll win you something for buying me a water,” said Ms. Mayhem.

And so she paid to take a stab at swinging the hammer and didn’t do so bad. I took a swing at it myself, but we did not successfully win; however, we were allowed to choose a toy for being cute riot girls. From there we discussed our plan for Blondie and as the Screaming Weasels finished up we wandered up pretty much to the front of the stage and got our spot on the rail.

Once situated at the rail we continued our talks about life, love, sex, and so on.

“Was he good?”

“Dishy. Yours?”


“What kind of condoms do you use?”

“Mostly just the usual.”

Here the conversation stopped.

“The usual?” I repeated. “Oh no, I’ve got lovely condoms, you simply must try some.” I pulled out my magical condom bag (I don’t leave home without it). The condom bag is a peacock bag that was a Christmas present from my beautiful Artist. I like to keep it full of condoms so that I think about her and all the times we ended the night with a victory garden around the bed. It’s handy.

“Far out, man, yeah,” said a guy just behind us on the left.


“No, just your conversation is awesome.” We started chatting with him and the cute busty girl he was standing with, and before you know it I was passing out condoms to a group of about ten people. “I’ve done condom testing. I swear, these are the best condoms money can buy, tell your friends.”

I should be a spokeswhore.

There are many thank-yous, and as the sun dipped below the horizon, the magical hour of seven approached and suddenly the drums on the stage began.

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