(no subject)
Time for another rambling update. Class has started - and yes, the singular is in fact appropriate. I take nothing but anatomy currently, so it's a sweet 30 odd hours of anatomy every week - including 3 or more hours a day of dissection of human cadavers. I smell...uh... bad after the day is done. But it's all done by the first week of October, so it's all right. Though in 2 weeks of classes, I think we've covered 600+ pages of material. Not so sure how I feel about THAT. Oh wait, yes I am - it blows.
Right, so I clearly haven't been living the high social life at this point, given my schedule. But I have met a whole lot of cool people, and had some hilarious discussions. One of these discussions with a very cool girl in my class led to us trading "interesting" stories. And her's was so amazing, I feel the need to relate it. Be warned though - it's really dirty:
Ok, so apparently she ended up needing to stay at the home of an acquaintance of a friend for a night. And somehow (I'm unclear on this point), no one else was in the house that night, so it was just her in this house of someone she doesn't actually know. The house was DIRTY - shit everywhere, dog food all over the floor in the hallway (and even stranger, no dog), smelly clothes galore, etc. So looking at the couch and mounds of crap all over it, she decides to check out the bedroom and see if that's any better.
Upon walking into the bedroom (which turns out to be just as bad), her shin bumps a cardboard box on the floor and she looks down. Lo and behold, the box is filled to the brim with many versions of the same item - yes, the box contains perhaps a dozen or two buttplugs.
Trying not to freak out, she talks to herself saying such things as "Alternative lifestyles are fine. Even if I don't want to touch stuff like that." She decides to go brush her teeth while processing this new, unneeded info. She walks into the bathroom, and what is on top of the toilet bowl? A buttplug. She looks over at the sink counter, and what's next to the soap dispenser? Buttplug. What's underneath the hand towel hanging on the rack? Buttplug.
Naturally, she backs out of the bathroom, checking behind her as she moves, to make sure one isn't going to poke her from a blindspot as she goes. She returns to the bedroom, carefully skirts the box of doom on the floor and approaches the bed cautiously. Looking down, she realizes the sheets are no good. Cumstains all over them. Then she notices that something ELSE is all over the sheets, little droplets of something. She's confused for a moment and then glances over at the nightstand. What is standing next to the bed? A sharps container. You know, those red boxes at the doctor's office for disposal of needles? Yeah, this thing is filled with needles and razor blades. So (for the slow ones in the audience) that's BLOOD all over the sheets. I guess she spent the night curled into a corner somewhere under her jacket.
Moral of the story: Always check where you're about to sit for unattended buttplugs. And razor blades. Your butt will thank you.
Right, so I clearly haven't been living the high social life at this point, given my schedule. But I have met a whole lot of cool people, and had some hilarious discussions. One of these discussions with a very cool girl in my class led to us trading "interesting" stories. And her's was so amazing, I feel the need to relate it. Be warned though - it's really dirty:
Ok, so apparently she ended up needing to stay at the home of an acquaintance of a friend for a night. And somehow (I'm unclear on this point), no one else was in the house that night, so it was just her in this house of someone she doesn't actually know. The house was DIRTY - shit everywhere, dog food all over the floor in the hallway (and even stranger, no dog), smelly clothes galore, etc. So looking at the couch and mounds of crap all over it, she decides to check out the bedroom and see if that's any better.
Upon walking into the bedroom (which turns out to be just as bad), her shin bumps a cardboard box on the floor and she looks down. Lo and behold, the box is filled to the brim with many versions of the same item - yes, the box contains perhaps a dozen or two buttplugs.
Trying not to freak out, she talks to herself saying such things as "Alternative lifestyles are fine. Even if I don't want to touch stuff like that." She decides to go brush her teeth while processing this new, unneeded info. She walks into the bathroom, and what is on top of the toilet bowl? A buttplug. She looks over at the sink counter, and what's next to the soap dispenser? Buttplug. What's underneath the hand towel hanging on the rack? Buttplug.
Naturally, she backs out of the bathroom, checking behind her as she moves, to make sure one isn't going to poke her from a blindspot as she goes. She returns to the bedroom, carefully skirts the box of doom on the floor and approaches the bed cautiously. Looking down, she realizes the sheets are no good. Cumstains all over them. Then she notices that something ELSE is all over the sheets, little droplets of something. She's confused for a moment and then glances over at the nightstand. What is standing next to the bed? A sharps container. You know, those red boxes at the doctor's office for disposal of needles? Yeah, this thing is filled with needles and razor blades. So (for the slow ones in the audience) that's BLOOD all over the sheets. I guess she spent the night curled into a corner somewhere under her jacket.
Moral of the story: Always check where you're about to sit for unattended buttplugs. And razor blades. Your butt will thank you.