And the Ben & Jerrys pint that you couldnt be bothered to throw away last night. And the bra hanging listlessly over the side of the laundry basket that you havent gotten around to washing yet.
Its the same principle as always wearing clean underwear, in case youre in an accident and a paramedic unexpectedly has to see you in your drawers. You just never know when you will be left standing in your front yard cringing while the two tall, hot, Asian police officers do a walk-through on your house to make sure no butcher knife-wielding creeps are lurking in there.
If your housemate forgets to lock the door, and you come home after dark to find your house unsecured, the logical thing to do is immediately call the police non-emergency number and ask a nice officer to come take a peek into all your nooks and crannies (not those kind I wish) and make sure its safe for you to enter. All women know this. (You know this, right?) If, however, you know that the first thing the hapless officers will see upon opening your bedroom door is the Eroscillator (endorsed by Dr. Ruth, no less) lounging on the floor next to your bed, you have to stand in your yard and actually think about which would be worse: Eroscillator discovery, or butcher knife-wielding psychos. It takes some thinkin.
And, when you finally give in to common sense and your own paranoia (your naked ass is, after all, all over the internet) and call the police, instead of appreciating the hotness of the young officers or how nicely they fill out their uniforms with their very muscled shoulders as they bravely forge into the darkened house, all you can think about is how you are going to look them in the eye when they come back out. If you were honest with yourself, you might admit to halfway wanting there to be a shooting in there to distract them from the impending embarrassment.
And then, when they come back out, big manly weapons all safely holstered, saying, Maam, its all clear. Would you like to come take a look around? you are suddenly pleased to be standing on a murkily lit front sidewalk where they cant see your crimson face, and you squeak an affirmative, and give the place the most cursory possible glance because you really just want them OUT, you do not want to confirm whether or not someone has absconded with your late night sweaty palmed entertainment. And when the second officer lingers a moment to talk about the cute kitties, and gives you a very broad, very cute smile, you lie awake later that night, Eroscillator in hand, and wonder just what he meant by that anyway.
Its really better to just hide the vibe.
Its the same principle as always wearing clean underwear, in case youre in an accident and a paramedic unexpectedly has to see you in your drawers. You just never know when you will be left standing in your front yard cringing while the two tall, hot, Asian police officers do a walk-through on your house to make sure no butcher knife-wielding creeps are lurking in there.
If your housemate forgets to lock the door, and you come home after dark to find your house unsecured, the logical thing to do is immediately call the police non-emergency number and ask a nice officer to come take a peek into all your nooks and crannies (not those kind I wish) and make sure its safe for you to enter. All women know this. (You know this, right?) If, however, you know that the first thing the hapless officers will see upon opening your bedroom door is the Eroscillator (endorsed by Dr. Ruth, no less) lounging on the floor next to your bed, you have to stand in your yard and actually think about which would be worse: Eroscillator discovery, or butcher knife-wielding psychos. It takes some thinkin.
And, when you finally give in to common sense and your own paranoia (your naked ass is, after all, all over the internet) and call the police, instead of appreciating the hotness of the young officers or how nicely they fill out their uniforms with their very muscled shoulders as they bravely forge into the darkened house, all you can think about is how you are going to look them in the eye when they come back out. If you were honest with yourself, you might admit to halfway wanting there to be a shooting in there to distract them from the impending embarrassment.
And then, when they come back out, big manly weapons all safely holstered, saying, Maam, its all clear. Would you like to come take a look around? you are suddenly pleased to be standing on a murkily lit front sidewalk where they cant see your crimson face, and you squeak an affirmative, and give the place the most cursory possible glance because you really just want them OUT, you do not want to confirm whether or not someone has absconded with your late night sweaty palmed entertainment. And when the second officer lingers a moment to talk about the cute kitties, and gives you a very broad, very cute smile, you lie awake later that night, Eroscillator in hand, and wonder just what he meant by that anyway.
Its really better to just hide the vibe.
