Sextravavganza. (Part I)

So, here's a new post for you.

I have recently attended two very sex-central events. They were both equally disturbing and hilarious.

The first: The Naughty and Nice Sex Show.
Damn, do I ever love this thing. It's basically a sex trade show. Toys, lingerie, different kinks and sexual preferences all with their own booths. There are even workshops taught by porn stars. Believe me. I attended one last year.
I also demoed a sex swing. That ruled. And I have the pictures to prove it.
However, this year was even better.
This year, my friend's husband got me into bed. A bondage bed.

As we're all walking through the show, the ever-loving husband turns to his wife and says, "I want to see Jen on that," and gestures toward a very...interesting looking bed.
Black, fleecy sheets with what appear to be velcro restraints for both hands and legs attached.
The wife...emphatically agreed. And offered to take pictures.

I, of course, happily agreed to do it.

So, they flag down the woman running the booth. She straps me in. Suddenly a cowd gathers.
Lovely. I wish I hadn't worn the jeans with the gaping holes in the thighs.
It wouldn't have mattered so much, but I had my legs spread.
You know, so the booth lady could mount me.
I was then moved into several different positions in order to demonstrate the many different ways you could 'take' your partner while they are bound in the bitch position.
I gotta say. I didn't mind being the bitch. *cough* Anyhoo.
The velcro restraints were suprisingly strong. And, apparently the big selling point: they don't chafe. Which was true. I was chafe-free by the end. Although, it's not like booth-lady really put me through the paces.
All in all, it was awesome. I would so do it again. And, if I had the cash, I would totally buy those sheets.

However, you're gonna have to take my word for it. The pictures didn't turn out.

Triumphant return?

Guess what, all.

I am coming home for Christmas!

So, mark the 20th of December on your calendar as the happiest day of your year as that is the day of my glorious (albeit temperary) return.
I'll be leaving on the 5th of January, so be prepared to put on brave faces to hide your dismay that day.

I am tres excited to be coming home. Yay.
See you then!

Love moi :)

Journey to the heart of the jungle (Part II): You asked for it. Here it is.

Ok, you piranhas, here it is.
I hope it lives up to all this massive hype. Don't blame me if it doesn't. You rushed my creative process :P

Anyhoo. Let's begin the tale, shall we?
************************************
So, there I lie in all of my half-naked, four-shaped glory. Feeling a slight breeze on my...you know.
She went for the pot of hot wax and spreaded 'er around with her wax-stick tongue depressor thingy.
It was a little hot. But not so bad. Almost relaxing.

But not for long.

*rrrrip*
Oh my. Such a disturbing sound. It's almost worse than how it feels. Almost.
To be honest, the pain wasn't so horrible. It was fleeting. Though I won't deny feeling a little raw after...

After a few turns at mercilessly tearing out my comfortably rooted hairs she began the 'obligatory chat.'
You all know what I'm talking about. The 'how ya doin,' 'where ya from,' that everyone in the service industry worth their tip starts up if they know they'll have to spend more than two minutes of their time dealing with you.
Not that it's a bad thing. But, for most people, there is a time and a place.
Fortunately, I am not one of them.

*rrrrip*
Her: So, you go to school at SAIT?"
Me: Uh huh. I live in res.
*rip*
Her: Oh, cool.
Me:*flinch* Yeah. It's alright.

After that, some random chat about the suckiness/non-suckiness of res ensued. It was awkward and bumpy at first...no. Not that. The chat.
Well. That too.
Now, to be honest, the idea of chatting with the skinny girl who's body hair is probably only visible under a magnifying glass didn't really jive with me, but I started to get into it. Talking is my thing after all.
Plus, it was better than silently listening to my yeti heritage be torn from my body. Not to mention the post-rip sting. It was a good distraction from that too.

Me: Sooo, um, where'd you go to school?
*rrrriiiiip*
Her: Prince George.
Me: *blidsided by pain and extreme coincidence* Really? Me too! Weird.
Her: Cool. I went to DP Todd. Where'd you go?
Me: DP Todd too, actually...
*rip*
Her: Wow. I wonder if you know anyone I know.
Me: Maybe.

She proceeded to list off a few people I'd never heard of, or perhaps just didn't care enough to rememeber, as a vague idea of who she might be began to creep into the back of my mind, unnoticed for the moment.
Until...

Her: Do you know (a guy we will call Huge Crush from grade 9. For obvious reasons.)
Me: *has a VERY good idea of what's coming* Yeah. I gradded with him.
Her: Really? He's my little brother!
*rrrrip*
Me: Seriously?!! I was like in love with him in grade 9!
(No, I have no idea why I said that either.)
Her: Wow, what an interesting way to meet.
*rip*
Me: Yeah, "Here's my crotch. Nice to meet ya!" (Yup. What comes outta my mouth boggles my mind too.)
Her: I'll just tell him we met while I was waxing your eyebrows.

Funny lady.

Her: Oh. Would you like the back done?
Me: Uh, sure...(the back?)
Her: Ok. Flip over.

I'll leave the rest to your imaginations.

So, that was my brazilian experience. In all, very funny and not as bad as it's made out to be.
The after effects are nice too...although, I won't deny feeling a bit like a 12 year-old girl.

In conclusion, anyone who finds upkeep of their underpant area a hassle, I would definitely reccamend the full monty (aka Brazilian wax. It was rather liberating. And heck, I made a new friend!)...unless you don't like pain. Then I would suggest growing out your leg hair, changing your name to Rainbow-Dawn and developing a liking for granola, because au naturel is the only truly painless alternative.
But, that's just my opinion.