Of the many things I have encountered in my travels, some are more disturbing than others. I will try to duly describe all of them on these hallowed pages in due time. But it was my nefarious web surfing that prompted me to pen this post.
The husband and I were walking along our blissful suburban street, when I noticed a piece of debris on the black asphalt. Further inspection revealed it was a discarded piece of packaging that was primarily hot pink and black and featured a loud, yellow font. It struck me as dubious. I did not want to touch it, so I squatted down to get a closer look.
In order to keep these pages within a more-or-less PG-13 rating, I offer the following description: the package had been relieved of its contents, which apparently was a device used primarily as an aid for masculine self-gratification. I scratched my head and used my toe to flip over the plastic and cardboard bit of detritus.
Information on the back further verified my assumption. I will not fully elaborate, but simply say that colorful modifiers such as "hot," "tight," and "slick" were abundant.
Regarding the condition of the package, the colors were bright and corners were sharp and I surmised it had not been at the roadside for long.
"What is it?" asked my husband.
"The sort of thing that's perfect for a guy who's looking for a sure thing at the end of the evening," I said. "If you know what I mean."
He nodded and we went on our way, chuckling and joking about the find. Did the gentleman get his money's worth? Was his need so urgent that he had to road test his purchase immediately? Was he alone? What if he wasn't? What might the device look like? How would one cleanse said device after use? What if said user chose not to cleanse said device? Our musings were endless.
I neither saw nor thought about the mysterious self-gratification device packaging again.
Days later, seated before a computer screen where it seems the last delicate shreds of the world's innocence is quickly being lost, I came upon the following post. Ever since I first swept over this at Boing Boing (see links on the right), and was moved by curiosity over the picture to further investigate, I've suffered a dull nausea. I have no idea if the self-gratification device with which I brushed on my suburban street looks anything like the convenient Japanese style one described herein. However, I warn you, although not necessarily pornographic, this is an image that will be with you for a long, long time (and might not be safe for work).
Now that I've served up that delicious appetizer, allow me to continue with the meal and offer you a heaping dish of Artificial Pornography, an entree compliments of one of my all-time favorite writers, Grant Bailie.