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I’m torn yet again.  I don’t know which way is up but I am beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel.  Communication is key!  My relationship with her is over once more.  It ended as it always does, she attacked me.  This time there is no going back.  I can’t support her and raise my daughter.  It’s time to do as my friends are telling me.  Take care of ME!

They say that I’m a helper.  I always want to help people.  Raise them up but fall short when it comes to me.  I put my life on hold to help others.  I let them walk all over me and then get hurt on top of that, either physically or emotionally or both.  It makes me sick knowing that’s how they view me.  I know I’m as strong as they say I am.  How else could I survive this long?

It’s time to start doing for me.  School starts in the fall.  I’m going to focus on my goals again.  No woman is going to come in between that again.  I am making this promise to myself.  I am keeping my promises.  Every year, a drive to the beach on or around New Year’s.  A book to write in and reflect.  Pages filled with promises.  To prevent the heartache felt the year before.  If I would have honored my promises to myself, put myself first, I never would be here.  4 days after we started dating a year ago.  I found she was someone I didn’t get a good vibe off of 6 months earlier.  Her hair color was different… only when she danced did I know it was her.  I could have walked away then.  MY RULE… broken.  She got in my phone to delete her old number when she figured out that that was me from 6 months earlier… without telling me for 2 more days…. MY RULE.. broken.  Seeing her ex-girlfriend’s numbers on my cell phone bill.  3 of them…. MY RULE… broken.  She got jealous because she didn’t know the friend I was talking to at the club and I didn’t want to interrupt her pool game to introduce them to each other.  She takes off out of the club, friends try to stop her, I try, people call her, I call her, she steals the car…. MY RULE… broken.  She comes back, attacks me, steals my credit cards, all my cash, my cell phone, and my other car that had gas in it…. MY RULE… broken.  And it just goes on and on from there.

I let myself down.  I have no one to blame but myself.  All these rules I made to protect myself I just threw away.  But them she gets help.  She goes to a facility in GA from NC to escape her probation and jail time.  Months later I find she has no one*….. MY RULE… broken.

*See, that’s a very special rule.  If someone doesn’t have long-lasting friendships or their family has nothing to do with them at all, neither side of the family, no siblings, no cousins, no one, I see that they cannot maintain lasting relationships with anyone.  They burn every bridge they constructed but lies are more flammable than facts and pure emotion.

I allowed her back.  She promised me she had changed.  She got better.  She knew what she had to do.  Well, that was up until I got her out of another state.  A soldier was the sucker from VA to NC.  And I was the sucker from NC to GA.  She has had people feel sorry for her for years.  She knows how to throw blame well and will do the same to everyone that comes her way.  I had to learn the hard way.  I should have listened to her exes.  They warned me she would say going away and getting help was what she needed.  That she knows what to do and how to control her anger.  I had to learn the hard way, just as they did.  She played on me wanting to help her.  She played on her not having anyone.  Well it’s not my fault.  She did that all on her own.  She uses.  She’s lazy.  She lives off of other people’s energy and their money.  Well, I’m not playing the sucker anymore.  It’s not fair to me.

So now it’s about me.  She can rot in her own private hell that only she can create.  Right now she’s in jail yet again.  12 charges in just 7 years and now racking up more.  And she wonders why no one will hire her?  They know better.  Why didn’t I?  Why couldn’t I see this a long time ago?  Why didn’t I listen to myself?  Why didn’t I follow my rules?

Now it’s time to do so.  Now it’s time to focus on me.  Now it’s time to put me first as my friends I’ve had for years are telling me to do.  I see how blessed I am.  I am surrounded by people that care about me and they are all over this country.  I maintain my friendships with healthy individuals who really do love and care about me and what’s best for me.  That, now seeing her and her life, is more than some can say.  My friends are not fake.  I don’t have friends because of drug use like she does.  Ones that are there as long as you have some coke or crack then disappear when the drugs are gone because you’re no fun.  I have friends who take care of themselves.  Who don’t involve themselves with drugs.  Who don’t have to chase after someone to feel good about themselves.  They know that strength comes from within.  They know that they are only as strong as they believe they are.  And most importantly, they are there to help their friend redirect their life.  To offer suggestions to get back up where they used to be.  To be better and stronger and healthier than before.  And my family.  I can always turn to my Dad.  My sister is there to take my mind off of things.  Without them, I’m weak.  With all of them, I’m blessed.

So now starts a new life.  I’m going back to school and everything is in order to do so now.  I need to push myself to better myself but that won’t be a problem.  I’ll just look back at Brandi and see what I don’t want to be and who I fear becoming.  It is life.  It’s not easy all of the time but it’s what you make of it.  I’m making something of mine and of me.  I have the opportunity to do so.

Things can only go up from here.  And I promise myself that they will.  It’s time to focus on me and that’s exactly what I’m doing… from now on.

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Name: Ventura
Age: 30
Location: LA, California

How do I trust my gf of 6yrs? I met my gf almost 6yrs ago. It was only about 4mos after we met when she went out of town and left me house sitting her place. I wanted to surprise her by giving her place the once over. Some how my cleaning up came across her cellphone bill. I stated to glance over it and noticed one particular phone number was being called A LOT. She kept about 1yrs worth of past bills and I looked through those as well, only to find she had been calling that number like crazy. I was SHOCKED. I called the number myself and some woman/girl answered. I didn’t know what to think. I thought the worst. She was seeing someone, some x behind my back. She wasn’t scheduled to return for about another week, but we had daily phone calls. I confronted her over the phone and asked her who and why was she calling this woman sooo much. She said it was some woman she had messed around with, who turned psycho and would call my gf and tell her she was “outside her house”, “outside her job” and that she felt scarred so she would call her to see where this woman was really at. She told me she was going to tell me eventually when the time was “right” ( I didn’t buy it). She eventually came home and we agreed to put it behind us….6 yes on I can’t get over it. Whenever I see she is spending too much time with almost anyone I have a trust/jealousy freak out. She tells me she loves me but I just don’t really know. Just recently I’ve noticed that her and a fairly new friend of hers have been emailing/texting/calling each other a good amount of the time. Can you give me some advice? HELLLLLP

Read the TLL Advice Panelists answers after the jump…

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The Lattachino Glass Double Dildo by Don Wands, available from Sex Toys, is a gorgeous dildo. Lattachino refers to the swirled glass process. I’ve been lusting after this dildo for ages because it’s absolutely beautiful and reminds me vaguely of a circus tent. Also, I love glass and metal toys because they hold their temperature really well and are completely non-porous which supposedly makes them able to be completely sanitized and shared. Supposedly. Not in this case, necessarily, however.

After I received the Lattachino Double Dildo and used it, I went to wash it, and discovered that the dildo was filling with water. This means it must have taken on … moisture … from playing as well. This did not bode well with me. After trying to get the water out, I discovered this dildo is hollow and was plugged up with a dot of something that appeared to be glue. This glue plug obviously leaked, and so I pulled the plug out with a straight pin, and emptied the water out of my pretty glass dildo.

And to be honest, this was the last time I used it. The hole is on the big end, which is the end I like best. I’m left with the option of using the small end or using the big end with a condom, and if I’m going to do that I might as well use some other kind of toy because I’m losing the feeling of the glass and the slickness that a glass toy offers. I don’t know if this particular dildo was a dud, or if this is a common problem with all of this style of dildos, but I do know that I own four glass dildos and this is the only glass dildo I own that is hollow. And has a freaking hole.

Get this to put on your mantle if your living room theme is dildos, but you aren’t likely to be happy using this for sexy purposes. I hate to give this a bad review because it’s so gorgeous, but I used it once, won’t be using it again, and would not recommend buying it. I would, however, suggest you check out some other glass dildos over at Sex Toys.

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Relationships. Short films with bad endings. Beautiful in the beginning and usually unbearably painful and/or gross by the end.

Girl meets girl. Love blossoms. Brings with it a deluge of hopes and dreams and such. Most of which come crashing down around you anyway.

The fortunate amongst us get to live out their dreams. For the rest of us it’s just a series of roller coaster rides.

I, predictably, am one of the less fortunate. And like that wasn’t bad enough, I’ve managed to get stuck in between two loves.  And when I say that I don’t mean that I’m sailing in two boats. No. It’s more like I’m drowning while two boats stand by and I’m wondering if either will come to my rescue. Boat One is the one I originally fell off of and Boat Two is a friendly boat that keeps sending strangely mixed signals my way. So now I’m drowning AND confused. Great. Just my luck!

No. That sounds too vague. Let’s see the facts for what they are, yeah?

On the one hand there’s my girlfriend, or at least that’s what I think she is. We’ve been together for about two years. We don’t talk. [No. That'd be absurd.] So, well, yeah we do. But only about the world and ideologies and grave feminist issues and such. We meet, we argue and we retire to separate rooms for the night. We’re great friends. The problem, I believe, lies in the fact that we are only that and nothing more. Why two perfectly intelligent and articulate women won’t acknowledge and/or express the fact that it’s over is beyond me. But then again, I’m one of the women involved in said weirdness so what do I know.

Now, on the other hand, is this girl whom I’ve kinda known for a while but never really spoke to. Recently, however, that changed. We talked. For hours on end, night after night. And that isn’t when I got the weird signals. Well not all of them. Being the bright thing that I am I went out with her [as in, left building A and went to building B; not as in a date or anything] one evening and got drunk. And I don’t mean slightly buzzed. I mean HAMMERED. So now I don’t remember most part of said evening because I was outta-my-wits sozzled. The parts I do remember, and very vividly at that, are the ones that confuse me. I remember the long drive into the night. I remember everything that could’ve happened, everything that almost did. But what I remember most is the look in her eyes. So intense that it burned right through me. And yet we sat in that car for most part of the night, doing nothing, saying nothing. No words. Just silence. And the night. And sometimes music. No lines were crossed. But some got blurred. Shadowy lines and personal histories stood between us like a smokescreen as we sat there. Fighting our personal demons. And losing. Both of us.

And now here I stand. Between a love that isn’t and a love that may never be. Between a distant memory and a hopeless dream.

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Please note, the portions of this post that are behind the link contain nudity that would not be safe for work, but which is tasteful. Do not click through to the rest of the post if you’re easily offended.

So you’re on the lookout for places to get your queer porn fix? Maybe you’ve looked elsewhere, maybe you’ve seen mainstream, but you want something different. You want photosets that aren’t just stills from the video action. You want video action that isn’t all about making porny faces for the camera, but IS all about the actors clicking with eachother (and doing other naughty things together…). You want to see bodies of all shapes and sizes, genders of all flavors, strapons and toys, sexualities as fluid as yours may be (or may not be). No Fauxxx is a site dedicated to erotic photography and videography, and even features some erotic writing, a “shop” featuring toys No Fauxxx likes, which are sold through Babeland, and Erotic DVDs featuring No Fauxxx models. I first heard of No Fauxxx through The Crash Pad Series, once I learned that Trouble and Pepper, two Crash Pad models, ran the similar No Fauxxx. No Fauxxx is an alternative queer porn site that has just tons of photo sets and videos featuring queer folk of every shape, size and color. There are some names who I recognized from Crash Pad Series, including Pepper and Trouble, Syd Blakovich, Lorelei Lee, Madison Young, Jiz Lee, Shawn, Scarlett, and probably a few that I missed. If none of these names ring a bell, then you should head over to No Fauxxx and check out some wonderful queer folks!

Again, do not click through to the remainder of this review if you are easily offended by nudity.

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The other day, I was tying away at my job as a medical transcriptionist, and one of the doctors dictated something like, “This is a 24 year-old pregnant individual…” and my mind went off on a rant right then…or it started to and got smacked right down.

Let me explain.

Having been through a very lonely and depressed pregnancy about 26 years ago, I have always been a bit irked by the phrase “we’re pregnant”. WE don’t get pregnant, regardless of the make-up of a couple. The person who is pregnant is the one who goes through all the bodily transformations, emotional upheavals, and other goodies that come with growing a baby in utero. The other person, whether male or female, gets to watch, hopefully help, support and encourage the pregnant one, but that person is NOT pregnant. Even in a lesbian couple, even if the current non-pregnant partner has been pregnant before. Each pregnancy is its own history, and NO ONE besides the pregnant one really knows what’s going on; and often not even they do. That’s my belief, based on my one and only, not-so-pleasant pregnancy experience.

So, when this doctor stated pregnant “individual”, in my head I got all uppity and was saying, “No, INDIVIDUALS don’t get pregnant, WOMEN get pregnant….”

Then I ground to a complete halt.

Thought of Thomas Beattie, the “pregnant man”.

I had an “Oh, wow!” moment. And realized I had to let go of that “only women get pregnant” idea. Because, regardless of his physical “equipment”, Thomas Beattie IS a man. In his head; in his heart; in his brain. And he did get pregnant. Twice.

I really loved all those thoughts that started swirling around in my head because one of my favorite things to do is to play devil’s advocate. I love tripping people up over their dearly-held notions, even if, maybe especially if, it’s my own self.

So, okay, now I will no longer be able to say to myself “only women get pregnant” and feel superior over this. But, I do hold out that in a monogamous, coupled relationship, “WE” still do not get pregnant!

Until someone opens my mind a bit further. Bring it on!

GG

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Today I was honored to publish the 1000th post on The Lesbian Lifestyle! This September TLL will also celebrate it’s 5th year of bringing our stories to the web. As the managing editor of TLL I have met so many wonder individuals via this blog. My favorite part of the blog, the reason I keep it going after all this time, is receiving all the emails thanking me for letting someone know that they aren’t alone. The truth being that it’s the stories of so many that touch women from around the world.

Since the blogs first post on September 16th 2004 TLL has done well with numbers. TLL currently has:

• 1000 Posts
• 15 Pages
• 105 Categories
• 791 Tags
• 3452 Comments
• 406 Registered Authors
• 368 RSS Readers
• 1340 Twitter Followers

Thank you to all who have been with us for the past 4+ years. Thank you to those who have just found us. My biggest thank you goes to those of you that have had the courage to post your stories and those who have been kind enough to share portions of their lives with others.

Over the years some of the people have changed. The Lezzy’s have evolved and TLL got a new look. We’ve added content that I hope interests the readers and I am always open to new ideas. I am proud that TLL hosts the webs only all lesbian blog awards and the fan favorite Midtown.

Thank you for being a part of this blog. I hope you’ll keep coming back for years to come.  We’ll be here, I promise!

Kelly

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I spotted her from across the room–seductive eyes, kissable lips, breasts begging to be worshiped. We locked eyes for a second before she made her way to the bar. She brushed against me while she ordered her glass of wine. The feel of her ass against my dick set off that familiar tingle between my thighs. “I’m Cara,” she said after taking a slow sip of her drink.

“Alex.” The red of her lipstick made my throat dry. All I could picture were those lips wrapped around my cock. I took a sip of beer to clear my throat. At that moment, I was glad I’d decided to hard pack. She set her glass down on the bar and pressed her body close against mine to whisper in my ear.

“Dance with me.” Before I could reply, she’d taken my hand and pulled me out onto the dance floor with her. She backed up against me, grinding her ass back into my hips. With each second I grew harder and harder. I wanted to fuck this girl. Her dancing was a slow tease, nails scratching down my stomach, her pussy grinding against me. My hands roamed over her entire body, all the while I wished her clothes weren’t between my hands and her skin. The whole crowd melted away and only she and I existed at that moment. I had a raging hard on and she knew it. She wanted to make me suffer. I do not take teasing lightly. To test her, I grabbed her wrist and pulled her hard against me.

“Let’s go.” A moment of understanding. A flicker of flame in her eyes. She walked wordlessly beside me to the bathroom. While waiting in line, she continued her dancing, her hips speaking the primal language of sex and desire. One hand ventured behind her, rubbing my dick through my pants. A low growl escaped my lips and I tightened my grip on her other wrist. Her body responded beautifully, a quickening of her pulse, breathing speeding up, a gasp.

With the bathroom free, we walked in, an understanding had been reached. “On your knees.” She dropped instinctively, hands reaching for my belt. “You want to suck my cock?” I took a step back to unbuckle my belt. Pants looser, I unzipped my fly and rubbed my dick through my boxers. A quick tug at my harness pulled my dick upright, straining against my underwear. Cara nodded in reply and licked her lips.

“Yes.” I pulled a tube of cinnamon lube from my pocket and smeared it on my palm, pumping my cock against my clit. She leaned forward on her toes and licked the head, tonguing the slit, swirling around before sucking my dick into her mouth. Heaven. I closed my eyes and fucked her mouth, leaned against the wall. She wrapped her hand around the base of my cock and pumped it hard into my clit while her lips wrapped around my dick.

“You like that, Cara? You like my dick in your mouth?” One hand tangled in her hair. She nodded, I pulled away from her mouth and shoved two fingers between her lips. She sucked my fingers, swirled her tongue over my skin, taking me deep in her mouth. “Yeah, like that…” Red lipsticked rubbed off on my fingers. “You like that cock?” I thrust it back into her mouth, her eyes wide, locked on mine. While she sucked my dick, I noticed her hand between her legs, under her skirt, fingering her cunt. The sight made me even harder, wanted to explode. I had only planned for a blow job, but I had to fuck her.

“You dirty little girl…” I tightened my grip in her hair. “Horny little slut…” Her body quivered. “You want me to fuck you?” A nod. “Beg for it.” Her eyes locked on mine, words exploding from her mouth.

“Oh Alex, fuck me…please fuck me. I want you so bad…” I pulled her to her feet and pressed her against the wall. She whispered hot in my ear, “Fuck me, Alex…fuck me hard…” I lifted her up, moved her panties aside and pushed my dick into her wet pussy. Her legs tightened around my waist while she rode my cock. Her body started to shake, moans getting louder with each thrust. I pushed her shirt up and buried my face in her breasts, nibbling her skin, licking her nipples. God, this woman would be the death of me. She started to scream, I knew people outside could hear. She didn’t care, she just wanted to be fucked. I drove my dick into her cunt hard and fast, grinding my hips against hers. It happened fast, she exploded, screamed my name while she came. “Alex…oh fuck…oh God…fuck me…oh my God, Alex…”

Her shaking body, her hungry cunt lit me on fire. It didn’t happen often this way, but my knees buckled, I came hard screamed against her neck and bit her shoulder. Fucked her til the feeling subsided. God, she was sweet.

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Midtown fans! Get your Midtown character guide here!

Do you miss The L Word? Well do we have a solution for you! TLL is happy to introduce Midtown, a fictional lesopera. Midtown is a weekly look into the lives of lesbian women in Atlanta written by Alix from the blog A Brown Girl. A new installment of Midtown will be published every Tuesday on The Lesbian Lifestyle. Please check out Alix’s blog and drop her a comment to let her know how you feel about the ladies of Midtown.

New to Midtown? Start with Part 1

Ed left the park with good memories, but a heavy heart. She made the walk back home slowly, ignoring the brightly shining sun. She ignored the calls from Ki and Ash. She didn’t want to deal with either of them right now. Right now was about Taylor. She needed to focus on the memories. She wanted to keep her alive in her mind.

Four hours later, Ed got out of bed. She stretched her tired muscles. A sense of accomplishment surrounded her sorrow. Her stomach announced its hunger with a loud growl urging her to the kitchen. She heard voices in the living room. When her foot hit the final step, the room was completely silent.

Three faces focused on her. All in various states of disappointment. They all started to speak at the same time. All of their tones were sharp. Ed shook her head to clear it. She held her hand out to stop them from talking.

When silence filled the room, Ed asked, “Why are yall yelling at me?”

“Muthafu-“ Ki sighed loudly. “We’ve been lookin’ for your black ass all day. You haven’t been returnin’ phone calls and then you have the nerve to walk down those fuckin’ stairs like everything is o-fucking-kay?” Brie went and stood next to Ki. She rubbed her back. “Somebody hold me back, I’m ‘bout to open a can of whoop ass on this big broad…”

Brie glared at her.”Don’t make me let her go! You really do deserve somebody’s foot up your ass. Where have you been all day?” Ed walked passed the trio to the kitchen.

“I’ve been here.” Her voice was terse. She pulled a beer from the fridge, opening it and taking a long swallow.

“You could’ve told someone that.” Ash spoke softly. “There are people here that worry about you.” Ash didn’t look in Ed’s direction when she spoke. She didn’t want Ed to see the expression on her face.

Ed didn’t acknowledge her statement. She grabbed another beer and went back up stairs.

A few days later, they closed Latte Pride for the funeral. There was a wreath on the door with Taylor’s picture. The funeral was full of current and former employees, regular customers and friends.

Brie and Ki occupied the seats on either side of Ed. Ed had made an attempt to keep herself together, but to her friends it was obvious that she was falling apart. Her locs looked fuzzy. Her white shirt needed to be pressed. Her black slacks didn’t look as neat, or put together, as if she had gotten dressed without thought. Her eyes were sunk in due to lack of sleep.

Ed hadn’t been at the store since she had been told about Taylor’s death. Ki and Ash were keeping the store running while Ed laid around the house. They would take turns making sure Ed ate, but they left her alone for the most part. Ash’s visits were always the shortest. She seemed to be avoiding her, but who would blame her. What sane person wanted to be around someone that was mourning their dead girlfriend?

Ed moved from the funeral to her car in a cloud of guilt. She shouldn’t have viewed the body. Seeing her lying in the coffin, pale and lifeless, felt as though someone had torn her heart out of her chest. She had insisted on driving herself to the funeral, she knew that she wasn’t going to want to leave with the others.

She sat in her car, listening to a cd Taylor had made for her. She watched the parking lot empty. When her car was alone in the lot, it was dark. She went to Taylor’s grave. She stood looking down at the mound piled high with freshly exposed dirt.

“Taylor…” Her name felt funny on her lips. “Taylor, I’m sorry I left you…”

She bent down to run her hand through the dark dirt. It felt cold in her hands. “It’s my fault that you’re here…” She sat down in the dirt. “If I could do it all over again, I would’ve stayed. I didn’t want this to happen.” Tears started flowing from her eyes. She started wiping them away with her dirt covered hands. Soon her face was covered with muddy tears. She laid down next to the grave, her body heaving with the force of her tears.

That’s how Ki and Brie found her 4 hours later. Ed sat in the fresh dirt alone. Her face and clothing were covered in mud. Brie and Ki helped her to her feet. Without words, they went home together.

Ash poured her third shot of the night. She was ready to fall apart, but she knew she couldn’t. Everyone was looking to her to hold things together. She had to keep the store running successfully so Ed would have something to come back to.

She let the liquor slow down her thought process. She thought back to just a few nights ago when she and Ed had finally been intimate. It brought about mixed emotions because as she was feeling her best, Taylor was dying.

When Ki and Brie came through the door with Ed, she saw a woman covered in mud. She rushed to her side. “I’ll put her in the tub.” She escorted Ed up the many stairs and sat her on the toilet in her bathroom. She turned on the water and tested the temperature.

“Stay here…” She told Ed. She didn’t know if Ed heard her, she just looked straight ahead at the wall in front of her.

Ash returned with a cup of mint tea and attempted to hand it to Ed. She didn’t reach for it, but when Ash put it to her lips, she started to sip. This simple action made Ash smile. It gave her hope.

“Can you undress yourself?” Ash turned the water off. Ed didn’t move. She started unbuttoning Ed’s soiled white button down. Ed lifted and turned whenever prompted until Ash had her completely nude. She climbed in the tub willingly.

Ash started to babble, about random things that had happened in the past few days while washing Ed’s hair. Ed didn’t say anything. Ash started to get frustrated.

“Dammit, Ed…We miss you. We need you. I need you…” Ash started crying. Ed turned to look at her, as if she just realized she was there.

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Thank you, Babeland, for the AcuVibe Mini in pink! I love this crazy little thing. Danger is this vibrator’s… middle name. The list of safety instructions is as long as your arm. Some of the best licks are as follows: “To reduce the risk of burns, fire, electric shock or injury to persons do not use on sensitive skin areas or in the presence of poor circulation.” Um, hi? My lady parts are sensitive (though they circulate just fine). “Do not operate under a blanket or pillow, excessive heating can occur and cause fire, electric shock or injury.” …mmmkay. I masturbate under a blanket sometimes to keep the noise down, but I guess that’s a big no-no for this vibrator.

Try this one: “Close supervision is necessary when this product is used by, on, or near children, invalids or disabled persons.” Presumably because these populations could not escape if the vibrator catches fire or hulks out? Additionally, I must assume the pamphlet thinks this is a real massager, rather than a massager, because I would hope you’re not buying vibrators to use on children.

I like this one too: “Do not operate this product with the air openings blocked. Keep air openings free of lint, hair and the like. Never operate on a soft surface such as a bed or couch where the air openings may be blocked. Keep your hair away from the air inlets.” …or what? Will my hair catch fire? And, if I can’t use this in bed or on the sofa, then where?

Certainly not outside: “Do not use outdoors.” Also: “Do not operate where aerosol products are being used or where oxygen is being administered.” Apparently, this is not the vibrator to buy for masturbating at the hair salon or the retirement home. “Do not use while sleeping.” Okay, I’ll try not to.

My all time favorite vibrator warning: “Do not use this product when standing on a damp floor, or when any part of the body is in contact with plumbing or any similar ground.” Am I the only one who thinks someone somewhere must have gotten hurt in a dungeon scene in a damp basement, chained to a pipe?

I’m here to report that I broke all the rules and I’m still alive. Yes, you are correct, I mas