Snow is sexy.

We got six inches of snow on the first day of spring. Yay!

So, my friend A. and I did what any normal women would do when faced with roads that were slushy at best and completely uncleared at worst.

We went to a sex toy party.

Yes. We drove across the metro to support our friend Amelia’s little home party. A trip that should have taken 25 minutes took about 45. This was fine, but meant that when we arrived, all the other partygoers had been drinking for at least half an hour.

Drunken women + sex toys + more blue margaritas = excellent blogging.

I learned several important facts last night.

1. There are lotions on the market targeted at making specific ladyparts more sensitive and – this is important – you can’t use a lotion intended for one ladypart on another ladypart. The G and the C? They don’t like the same salves. However, I’m not sure how a product that has, like, 27 different kinds of parabens in the ingredient list can be safe to put on your most sensitive tissues. But that’s just me.

2. A dildo and a vibrator are not the same. A dildo doesn’t have a motor. This sort of rocks my world because one of my favorite photos in the entire universe is all of my college roommates posing at an adult emporium in front of what we termed “The Wall of Dildos.” However, I now know that we were mistaken. We’ve been living a lie.

3. When seated in front of a basket of crackers, I will eat most of the crackers. Yes, I know this isn’t really news.

4. Adding our drunk Latina friend to your white-bread, white-girl sex party is a must. She will teach you the Spanish words of all sorts of body parts. She also has no filter. This means that when asked to taste the edible strawberry massage oil, she will recoil in horror and announce to the consultant’s chagrin that “it tastes like merde!”

5. Our drunk Latina friend was so right about the edible strawberry massage oil. It tasted like ass. When I got home, I couldn’t figure out what that sick, sweet smell was. Finally, I realized it was my arm – the arm where I’d sampled both the edible strawberry massage oil and the edible strawberry lotion. It smelled like what I imagine being a stripper feels like – nauseous desperation. I took a shower.

Lest you think the strawberry / merde edible concoctions ruined the evening for me, don’t worry. In true English major fashion, I did order a little something: a book.

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