It’s quiet in my house today. I need a day like this, a Sunday like this. I’m getting laundry done, doing the dishes, trying to get rid of the Vundo virus on my laptop. Thinking about my next blog post. I’m in my workout clothes because it’s a beautiful day and I’m going to try to get out and sweat some of the alcohol out of my system.

I had a few drinks last night, out of necessity. We went to a surprise 50th birthday party. It was thrown by our friend’s new (and second) wife. She hates us. The invitation said wear a hat, wear red and black, be original and NO gag gifts. So my husband and I wore wigs. Wigs count as hats, they cover your head. His was a Bill Clintonish dapper grey and mine was long, curly and red. We outfitted another friend in the long, curly black wig I wore a few weeks ago to another birthday party. He looked like Howard Stern but cuter. I thought we were original. We also obeyed the red and black request. I wore a black shirt, the wig was red. My husband wore a shirt with red lobsters on it and a hat, on top of the wig, that said “Hottie” in red lettering.

But there is no surer way to guarantee that I’m going to give the guest of honor a gag gift than to put on the invitation “NO GAG GIFTS”. It’s like putting a bag of Kettle Thai potato chips in front of me and saying don’t open the bag for a week, and when you do open it, only eat 10 chips. Impossible. I love potato chips. So, my husband and I made a little trip down to the Adult Video Warehouse last week. We hadn’t been there in a while. They do have some quality items but we were looking for some things with a little shock value. And we found them.
WARNING: These next few sentences are not for the prude or easily embarrassed. You know who you are. No, I’m not talking about you, my brother.

First, we picked out a set of anal beads, in blue, thinking that our friend might actually enjoy them. He’s into that kind of thing. Then, we found an item called a Portable Pussy. If I were a little less prude myself, I would post a picture of this because it really is something to see, and it really is portable. But you can Google it. We figured this gift would be particularly useful because, after a few more months of being married, the sex is going to stop. These items were wrapped in paper that had drawings of penises on it (circumcised and not) and placed in a blue Tiffany bag with no card.

(Listen, I told you not to read this if you were going to be embarrassed.)
Our “real” gift to him was an expensive bottle of aged rum. We put a card on that gift. It was a picture of a penis pressed against testicles and dressed up to look like a man going to a party, birthday hat, bow tie and all. It’s funnier than it sounds. We named him Pedro. On the inside of the card, it says, “Have a ball on your birthday!” When I described this to my mother, once she stopped laughing, she asked me if it would be possible for me to buy a few more of the cards so she could give them to her friends. I love my mother. I wonder what she wants for her birthday.