Oh, this is so naughty! Before I remembered to add my father’s last name in the quiz, my “daddy” was still Patrick Stewart, but I loved him because he took me to Disneyland.

Your Daddy Is Patrick Stewart

What You Call Him: Papi Why You Love Him: He gives good spankings

Your Sexy Brazilian Name Is

Lisandra Santoro

Louise brought this back from London for me. It is the first bag to seriously tempt me away from the devo monkey bag in five years. I do believe that squishy would fit completely within this bag. Click to see bag in larger glory.

So DrinkJack and I hung out Monday and Tuesday and it rocked…. because he rocks. Any day that starts with pancakes is good, and that’s how we started the 4th of July. Then we went to my office to find my missing camera. I lost it somewhere between paying for pizza at the Moons on Friday night [I felt it in the bottom of the bag] and Saturday afternoon. I thought maybe maybe I was feeling something else in the bottom of the monkey bag, and I had left my camera at work, so we went to check. Not so. But we got all the pictures off of Jack’s camera and uploaded to his server, to make room for more. Then we went all over Seattle. Some by car, a lot by foot. And once again I was left to wonder, why do we bring everyone to Pike Place Market? It’s like a pre-req. You have out of town guests? They must go to Pike Place, or you lose your WA State Drivers License or something.

I felt it was necessary to show Jack Toys in Babeland, so we could turn on all the vibrators and giggle at the butt plugs. And that is where we saw this. [at least that looks like what we saw.] Which gave us pause. But nothing gave me more pause than this, the “fleshlight.” Which confirms my theory that men’s sex toys are creepy, unless they are using the same toys the girls do. And yes, I had to touch it to see what it felt like. Ooky. I think is a pretty good description of the “creamy cyberskin.”

By that evening, we were tired so we headed back to my office, and then across the street to Costa’s for flaming cheese and cocktails, and Jack got to see just what a light weight I am, when it comes to alcohol. I am lucky enough to work right on Lake Union, so when it got dark, we watched the big fireworks show over the lake. That’s the first time I’ve seen a big fireworks show in many many years. I didn’t know they could make smiley faces.

The next day we headed to Ocean Shores, so Jack could get his ocean on. It was overcast, and a little sprinkly. The ocean was grey, the sky was grey, but luckily the dunes are covered in nice green sea grass blowing in the wind. It was actually quite beautiful. After lunch, we rented mopeds to ride on the beach. It takes me more than a few minutes to get the hang of those things. To make sure I am not going to plant a facer in the sand. Off we went. Going down the beach, we were going a rapid 30 miles per hour, at times, with the wind. These babies had power! We meeped our mighty horns at the other moped riders as they were our peeps. Still just sprinkling a little bit. Until we turned back, to ride against the wind. Then it started raining for real.

Turns out, rain can kinda sting your face, when you are riding a moped against a fairly strong wind. We were lucky if we could get up to 20mph. At first I thought, I should take my glasses off, as I could not see through the spots. Then I found out rain can sting your eyes as well. So I put them back on. Then I stopped once more to wipe all the mascara that was running into my eyes, also stinging. Then I was ready. My right hand was numb from the sheer power of the motor, the awesome vibrations. I had to visually confirm I was gripping the handle, because I could certainly not feel it. We rode full throttle all the way back. Most people would have called the ride back unpleasant or at least uncomfortable. But you know what? It ROCKED. Sure, we were soaked to the skin. And had sand and salt all over us. But it was so much fun. You could not help but laugh. The moped guys called us troopers. This was not your sissy beach, this was a beach for the adventurous. Weaklings and pussies need not apply.

Afterwards we ran into the souvenir shop to buy dry shirts. But had to live with soggy drawers. Got caught up in some nasty traffic on the way back to Seattle. In fact, we ran into some of your more spectacular traffic all weekend long. I think everyone was showing off to Jack, so that when he got to San Francisco, he would just scoff and say “This is pussy traffic, you should see the traffic in Seattle.” But it gave me plenty of time to talk him into a stupor. Which is fun.

After dinner, I finally let go of Jack long enough for him to jump in his truck and head south. Where he immediately ran into traffic and came to a complete stop on the freeway for the 90th time in two days. And then I found my camera.

Driving through Aberdeen, away from Ocean Shores and the Tsunami Danger Zone, Jack and I passed a blue shack, a store, with a handmade sign out front, It was advertising several things, but I only noticed two words, written extra large, underlined three times. “Pocket Rockets!” Something familiar about that…

Me: Pocket rockets?

Jack: They are small scooters or motorbikes.

Me: no they aren’t… the pocket rocket is a VIBRATOR!! Let’s turn around and go back. We can go in and ask to buy pocket rockets and when they show us stupid little motorcycles, we can say “No, that’s not what we want, we want the pocket rocket… you know THE VIBRATOR!! a pink one please!”

Later… still in Aberdeen, still within the Tsunami Danger Zone, we pass a billboard:

There are many reasons not to have sex.

What’s yours?

I guess they are taking up after those commercials that talk about your hobby being your anti-drug, but with sex instead. Somehow, it doesn’t work as well for abstinence. After much discussion, we can come up with only one really good reason not to have sex.

Because nobody wants to have it with you.

Hence the popularity of the pocket rocket, I believe.