Kill Tha Wabbit

I had the apartment all to myself.  Ruby was away for a long weekend–again.  My roomie has been a ghost lately, she pays rent, though is rarely home, nor do we hang out like we did in the past.  I prepared a luscious dinner of  Trader Joe’s Chicken Enchiladas (come on, they are quite tasty considering they are frozen Mexican) and performed my New Moon stalking for the evening.  I had big plans for this evening…alone…in my empty, roommate free apartment…and they included my cute little pink pet and three C batteries…

Fine, I am a huge dork. I poured a glass of Merlot, lit a few candles; if no one will romance me, then I may as well do it myself. Yes, take care of everything myself. Hell, if you want it done right, may as well do it yourself.

So I started…slowly. This is a quality product, three speeds, various rotations, and a little plastic bunny attached at the base whose ears vibrate faster than his Energizer counterpart is able to beat that drum! I know many people have described, written about, and documented on film their experiences  with this product, though if you have tried it, then you will agree. This is the definitive woman’s little helper.

Now I was getting somewhere, daaaaaaammmmmn it felt amazing. I believe that I may have been well on the way to outdoing myself, while quite literally doing myself. I felt it, the sensation in my toes, chest, and right along my happy little trail;  YEEEEES! I AM AMAZZZZZZZING!!!

Wait! What?! No!!! Can’t be!!!!!!! NOOOOOOO!!!!! The device sputtered a few short vibrations and then…stopped. I lifted it up…looked at it in horror, as I realized that the batteries lost all of their juice before I lost mine. AND I had no replacements. I was so close!!!!!! I could really cry. WHHHHHHHYYYYY?!?!?!?!?!?! I couldn’t even finish manually, as the mood had officially died with the toy. I  killed The Rabbit. –Frankie