My Dog Hates Me!

Every girl knows that the one fail safe remedy for those monthly “Aunt Flo” cramps is a nice steady string of kegel contractions.

I like to deliver my personal form of pain medication via my “magic wand” a tried and trusted method otherwise known as… a little taste of self determining heaven that comes with a long cord and plugs in behind my nightstand.

She really is the true gift that keeps on giving. I don’t have to tell her she’s pretty, witty or charming. Happy to deliver exactly what she promises, she never asks who is texting me at 3am. She is simply perfect.

I was recently asked “What? Battery operated isn’t good enough for you?”

Hell No! If I could find me a sexual partner that required a kick start and a stand… I’d take it!! Batteries are so 1992… Come on really? Who wants to be “RIGHT THERE” to then hear that tell tale battery whine sound… as you begin to buzz slightly lower and lower and lower and…. God Damn it!! Where is the Advil??

Not I, Ladies… Not I. No, I want a surefire consistent buzz!

What does this have to do with my usually adoring 8yr old German Shepard? Aha! I’m getting to that…

So my last period found me like a vice grip to the ovaries. It was a real doozy of menstrual cramp hell. The pain told me it was going to take a seriously committed relationship complete with U-Haul between “Wanda” and myself to elevate my girl parts to where they felt almost human again.

Man’s best friend apparently had other ideas.

Now, both of my dogs are pretty well trained in the bedroom department. They don’t stare… they don’t try to join in… they definitely don’t ask to go outside…No, my babies settle in and wait it out. I am blessed with discrete and considerate animals. Well, I thought I was…

That was until recently when I was in severe pain – chasing the “O” dragon as far as she would go… So, I was WAY past dinner and a movie with “Wanda” when my German Shepard (Mackie) decides to lie down on the power strip, subsequently shutting it down via the surge protector.

BOOM! Wanda has left the building along with Elvis and I am thrown unceremoniously back down the mountain I just spent the last ten minutes climbing.

Dammit, up I get – move the dog… switch the power cord back on and settle in for an attempt at round two towards the summit.

My eyes are closed and I am gaining ground pretty quickly, stupidly I open my eyes and BINGO… there’s my boy staring right at me with those big brown hound dog eyes… tongue hanging out – hot breath panting in my direction… that was a buzz kill... a true deflating moment. I beg my truest companion, in very few words, to go find a corner and lie down. He obligingly grumbles his way to a corner of the bedroom. I am back in business!

No time to be sweet talking foreplay with Wanda, we pick up where we left off. We have our little dance down to a fine art – so we skip past “GO”…pick up our “get out of jail free” card and are cruising towards Mayfair…. Jesus! Mother! & Joseph! The damn power goes off again. My sweet boy has scooted his butt right back onto the friggin power strip – OK, now I’m pissed.

In a verbal buckshot of frustration – I’m yelling at the damn dog to move his ass… how do I know he hates me? Because he moves off the power strip only to lay his hulking frame onto Wanda’s usually pretty lengthy cord.

I am so desperate to finish the job – I hit the reset on the power strip and give up on moving the dog.

Have you ever tried to write a check at the bank? You have, right? Ok, well you know the damn pen attached to the desk by a chain…Why is the chain is always too short? No matter where you go… it’s always too friggin short. I want to meet the pen chained to a desk designer. It has to be a man, it has to be. Every woman knows in order for them to be fun useable tools, pens and vibrators should always have ample cord length.

The only thing you can do with a pen on a chain is recreate your childhood penmanship inadequacies (Like it wasn’t embarrassing enough the first time around).

Apply this EXACT SAME THEORY to a corded vibrator.

It wasn’t the best date Wanda and I had ever been on but by sheer determination, we did make it all the way through the movie and even managed to share some buttered salty popcorn along the way. We didn’t bicker or argue, we didn’t seek couples counseling or support groups for people in similar situations… It did take a long time, however to her credit she was still the finest rendezvous I had had all week.

I think it’s pretty obvious my dog hates me. Why would he mess with me so badly otherwise? It’s not like I get my hands in the mix when he’s licking his balls and make him stop. I simply avert my eyes and pretend to be disgusted. I do make an effort to disguise my jealousy at this self ball licking talent. Man, if I could do that… Wanda and I would be over!
Don’t get me wrong, just like my other exes… I’d wish Wanda well and try to remain friends leaving open the smidgen of opportunity to perhaps pick up a date here and there during a dry spell.

You can’t blame a girl for leaving her options open.

Common Sense Rule to Vibrating Techniques:

Always try to plug “Friends of Wanda” directly into the wall, if at all avoidable – stay away from power strips with surge protectant switches.


Christmas Shopping Tip:
Search The Sharper Image high and low for wireless, non-corded vibrating devices for any ladies in your life that suffer from extreme menstrual crampage.
Find that item and you will shoot your way to the top of my Christmas card list!