Pigs in Tow

As I’ve said before, as weird things happen when a person’s on LSD, mishaps and clumsy happen when a person’s on PMS. It is inevitable; it is true. No bones. And one must accept and work with such in the universe, before manipulating the shit and fuck out of it.

That said, when I sat down on a toilet in the bathroom at work this morning, I smelled something. It was the scent of potent shower-curtain plastic. Ah, I knew that smell. You see, Melissa not only gifted to me, but re-gifted, a bright piggy pink, double-headed dong as a moving-in present. That’s in addition to a Brian Eno CD and a Lego-Pirate keychain. Now that’s friendship. I received the dong at our party celebrating the birthdays of Melissa, Mark, and Lauren, and my moving into Mark’s. It smelled like the most potent new shower curtain. That night the dong partied hard, felt itself in the hands of many drunks and non-drunks, lubed up and smacked flesh, dangled out the unzipped pants of grunting boys. By night’s end, there were teeth marks and a chunk out of it. Mark did his duty as a thoughtful boyfriend, brought the dong into the shower with him and cleaned it. Then he kindly stored it in my new underwear drawer. This morning I finally decided to remove the dong from my underwear drawer, concerned about the potency of its scent. Good thinking on my part. While I was sitting on the toilet in that bathroom earlier, taking in the scent of shower curtain, it occurred to me to lean over and sniff my underwear. Sure enough, they smelled like pink dong. Mystery solved.