Email Orgasm

I nearly orgasmed reading my email.

Williams-Sonoma is having a cup cake pan, decorating kits, essential decorating items (for me, that would be ALL) sale this weekend, at Wrentham outlets.

That's right; good ol' J doesn't have to do much in the way of foreplay when there's a Dyson sale on somewhere, a floor cleaning model show, or, the Mother Lode, cake stuff on sale. To look at. And touch. And decide if I've already bought it, truly need it (that would be, ahem, yes) as well as if the sale is large enough to captivate my interest.

Naturally, while down there, I most assuredly should check out the place settings, serving pieces, Easter items.......really, kind of like porn, for girls.

I had a girlfriend tell me we were going to a Pampered Chef party, to look at bakeware - was I in? Well, DUH! Of course!

It wasn't that kind of party.

It was a sex toy party.

I didn't really enjoy it all that much. I learned some new things I didn't know (like the fact that clitorises come in all shapes and sizes - the book they had? some woman had one that looked like a daffodil in full bloom - her hubby ought to be able to find that I would imagine) as well as all sorts of creams that taste like stuff, and accessories to purchase for your shower, that look innocuous, but allow your partner to stand at the right height. I wisely kept my mouth shut through the majority of this raw experience; reaching orgasm isn't something I think should be done alone. Why do something myself, when someone else could do it for me, eh?

But I digress.

What annoyed me the most, was that I really was all primed to see bakeware. The host thoroughly enjoyed the look on my face when the Athena, Goddess of all that is sensual (oh boy) brought out her first lubricant, and it wasn't the new Crisco with Flour already in it that I was looking forward to.

That spray for baking? A Godsend. Seriously. Now? I cannot find it on the shelves anywhere. Amazon didn't even carry it...not, mind you, that I would be so ridiculous as to order bakeware coating spray including shipping charges, simply because I couldn't find it elsewhere.

Oh, all right.

I would.

I'd even pay shipping.

I cannot wait for Saturday. I don't really care what J and the kids do; I could spend hours in that store, cheeks pink, fingering all the wares, wondering if I would indeed use the cake mold that looks like a train. (I so totally NEED that).

Honestly.

If I'm going to be all hot and bothered over cookware?

The least I can do is order the appropriate lubricant to go with it.