It's my first clit stimulator!
On my first night in the union bar at music college, I ended up hanging around with a bunch of singers, none of whom I had met before. For the most part they were rowdy boys, there was much imbibing of alcoholic beverages, all good fun. After a while, one of their friends arrives. She’s a six-foot-tall, sixteen stone goth called Bex. When I say she was a goth, I don’t mean in a sort of Emo kid kind of way. I mean black from head to foot, caked on white make-up, black lipstick, she even carried a rucksack shaped like a coffin. She looked like the love child of Marilyn Manson and Frank N Furter. Bex, on this occasion, was carrying a brown paper bag, the contents of which she was very keen to share.

It was a massive purple vibrator. It had prongs. She passed it round the table for our inspection and admiration. She was obviously very pleased with it. “I’m SO excited. I’ve never had one with a clit stimulator before. I can’t wait to get home and try it out!” It looked like an instrument of medieval torture.

“So you’ve got more than one of these things?” I said, trying to make polite conversation.

“Oh yeah, I collect them, this is my fifth. Did I tell you it’s my first one with a clit stimulator?”

For the next four years, every time I saw Bex I just couldn’t get the mental image of all of these neon phalluses proudly displayed on her shelf at home out of my head. I suppose it beats stamps.
(grandmasterfluffles Come to my Armageddon party on, Fri 12 Jan 2007, 12:13, Reply)