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Uh, Happy Harriet Carter Wednesday? Uh, where have you been? I’ve been here the whole time. Ok fine, you caught me. I’ve taken a little break from the wondrous world of “House of Carter” because of The Hills recaps. Trust me, it was like “Sophie’s Choice” for me. I mean, personally I think Sophie should have ditched both kids and built a single rich life for herself, but that’s another story for another time for another blog for other readers for other thoughts. Know what I mean? I don’t. Anyway, this time around Harriet is helping you stop giving oral pleasure and wiping your arse with a stick contraption. What? All normal. Let’s go!
Product # 1 – White-trash ladies in the audience, are you not quite married yet but are ready to hang up your “mouth gift” to your partner? Tired of bobbing for hot dogs and just want to get a good night sleep? Well if you answered “I’m a quitter” to any of these rhetorical questions does Harriet Carter have the perfect excuse for you! Introducing the “Nellie-Olsen-Wig-Chin-Strap-Jaw-Clench-Face-Mask 3000!” So the next time your boyfriend is asking for a little south of the border action you can simply tell him your chin strap makes it hard to melt his popsicle, in fact the oxygen mask prevents your entire face from doing anything at all. Perhaps he can play in your backyard? Either way, at least you’ll be getting a good night sleep. I mean sure he’ll be dry humping you in what I can only assume is a flannel nightgown with lace trim around the collar that zips all the way up to your neck, but you’ll be catching a handful of “Zzzzz’s” while he’s catching a handful of blue balls. And, let’s face it, if you’re wearing any of this to bed you’re already given the impression that you’ve given up on sexy nights anyway. Because if your pillow talks consists of any of the following phrases the romance is dead: chin strap, plug in my oxygen mask, CPAP, improved airflow, apnea, and/or adjustable strap (unless he’s into that, in which we’ll need to have a different conversation).
Product # 2 – I mean at this point just stand up, bend over, and give sh*t kisses to your bathroom wall, no? After about a month it will look like an artistic mural and you’ll be all the rage around your neighborhood. Or so I’ve heard…from a friend….I’ve never done this myself….not even drunk. When you reach “garbage bag” on your “Lazy-Ass-o-Meter” and even wiping your filthy bum-bum seems like a chore now you can use your plastic stick to clean up things allllllll the way back there. Simply place some tissue on your bum-wiping-contraption and then….then…well then you….I believe you…..do you put it between your legs and come out the other end in a scooping motion? I have no idea. Perhaps you go behind your back like a back scratcher and then just start slapping? Maybe you suction cup it to the bathroom floor and then stand up and start doing squats over it? It’s really hard to decipher and, well, I’m not a doctor or even smart for that matter so I’m not really sure how it works. All I know is that it (1) looks like it hurts (2) might get you pregnant and (3) pretty much is a sh*t stick. And is this dishwasher safe? I hope so because the thought of washing this contraption by hand really makes me upset. Whatever happened to the good old fashion days of using your hand to, you know, wipe yourself or just opening the door a crack and screaming at the top of your lungs “I’m doooooooooone!” until someone comes up and takes care of this mess for you? That’s the way I still roll. I mean, sure, most times no one comes to wipe me and, well, I’ve been stuck on my toilet for days, but once in a while you will get someone to answer your call and the look on their face is all worth it.
Well that concludes another Harriet Carter Wednesday. I really figured smut and poop jokes was really the right way to kick things off, per usual. Spread the word! And other things if you want.
