I'm moving this weekend, which is one of my least favorite pasttimes. Packing is a total bitch. When I skipped town to go to Mexico indefinitely when I was 24, I didn't pack until the night before. And I left anything winter-like in the bin, even abandoning my coat at the airport.
ANYWAY, as I was packing up the contents of my boudoir, I stumbled upon an old dildo. The Bloke's loaded me up with so many new toys that I totally forgot about this one; I haven't used it in well over six months, but I hold a bit of sentimentality for it. It was The Divorce Dildo. It was my first fuck after I left my husband. -Swoon-
Still, the past is gone, right? I tossed it into the rubbish bins. C'mon! I got bigger and better now.
Women are downright heartless, aren't we?
(Afterthought: what on earth are the trash collectors going to think if that of all things falls out en route to the truck? Hmmm. I'm sure they've seen worse...)
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