Enter…Bubblegum. (And who wouldn’t want to?) Bubblegum is, like me, an unhappy transplant in a state she neither created nor understands. Unlike me, she is a clit-to-the-grit corporate conquistador and someone who owns things. (Whereas I am generally soft, dough-like, blunt, and a renter of all things save my cats and my anatomy. Though the latter can be disputed.)
Anyway. Bubblegum makes her bubbilicious debut today as a sort of, ahem, unwrapped correspondent from the sexual fringes of corporate domination. She has a story she would like to relate to you, through me (after all, if I am anything, I am an untrimmed mouthpiece of womanity)…
Ah the lover, he is almost completely the opposite of me – he hates the city, sort of has that John Wayne persona down to a science. He wants to take me fishing. He is a steel construction builder working here for the next 6 months, lives in a state which shall remain nameless. Totally blue collar, with matching John Wayne persona; he hates the city, loves the country. (Oh - and he has not had sex in two years. Or so he says.)You know the type. Obviously he is not perfect. But he’s okay for right now.
So the story. I am a safe sex kind of girl. I also hate latex, so off to the store I go to purchase the expensive non-latex condoms. There I am in CVS trying to find any brand that is non-latex, and there are two men looking at the condoms – one on each side of me. Of course one man reaches over to get the Magnums, and out loud I said, “Oh, please,” which made the other man burst into laughter. Little did I know. About little that is. (Story time continues, after the jump.) MORE>>