Tuesday, June 30, 2009

RTT - As Random as Random Can Be


  • This whole wearing no panties thing is great until I go to the doctor. When the nurse says "Take off everything except your underwear" I have to tell her I'm not wearing any panties. Then she gives me the hairy eyeball look that says "Hussy!". I've taken to keeping a pair in my purse for these awkward moments.
  • Speaking of purses, what is it with these girls and their ginormous purses. I know huge purses are all the rage, but why do you have to bring it everywhere? I was at a bar and a bunch of girls were dancing on the dance floor. Their purses were so big they looked like they were dancing with suitcases. Everytime one of them turned, they would smack the other with their purse. Why do you need a purse in a bar anyway?
  • Pink Floyd is one of the most depressing bands EVER! Just listening to them makes me want to mainline Prozac.
  • I do not like ice in my beverages. I need them to be chilled only. I also drink my water at room temperature and I don't like it chilled. I am a picky bitch.
  • I saw a bumper sticker the other day that said "If you're going to ride my ass, at least play with my hair." The driver was a young girl. I found myself being proud and horrified at the same time. Gawd! I'm getting old.
  • My job requires me to have memberships for dozen of websites. I'm not a super technical person by nature. But, if there is a bug in the programing I will find it. Not intentionally. I just have a knack for coming across problems. Tech support HATES me!
  • I'm also that person ahead of you in the grocery line that grabs the item that will not scan and has no price tag.
My iPod slush is as follows:
1.Welcome to the World - Kevin Rudolf
2. Piece of My Heart - Jan Wayne
3. This Ones For the Girls - Martina McBride
4. I'm Shipping Up To Boston - Dropkick Murphys
5. Slave To the Music - Nick Skitz
6. Now that We Found Love - Heavy D & the Boys
7. The Choice is Yours - Black Sheep
8. Gloria - Laura Branigan
9. Push It - Salt-N- Papa
10. Je Cherche Un Homme - Eartha Kitt

That's a wrap, lovers. The long awaited "rabbit" review is tomorrow. I've worn myself out on this one.

Friday, June 26, 2009

BuildingThe Perfect Man

The other day I was in my office when Partner #1 popped in to have a quick meeting. As he was saying his parting words, I noticed that he had really nice eyes. They had long, lush lashes and an excellent shape. I don't remember what color they were, but they were really pretty.

After he left, I decided to daydream for a few minutes. Maybe a little virtual "afternoon delight" with VinDiesel. I stared out the window at the miserable weather, the rain pouring in sheets down the glass and the trees whipping wildly in the wind. It was at that moment thought how great it would be if I could build the perfect looking man. Now, Now! Don't be judging me. You know men do it. Eager for my new game, I decided to challenge myself and limit the body part selection to just the guys in my office. As a whole, not one of them does anything for me. In fact, some of them gross me out entirely. Sure, I may have had a sex dream about one of them. It still gives me an all over body shudder when I think back on it.

Anywhoo, here's a look at my thought process:

Okay, so we take Partner #1's eyes....maybe his lips too and add Red Sox Fans hair....wait a minute....no, not his....let's use SurferDudes hair....yeah, he's got a nice mane....hmmmm....what about the butt. Whose butt should I use....great now I'm stumped. Everyone here has a terrible ass. Am I hungry? I could be hungry. I just had breakfast but I'm still starving. Okay, maybe I can use SurferDudes....his butt's cute. Ewwww. Now I feel icky. Whatever. Now the legs. Definitely RedSoxFan. He's got killer stems....wait....weren't they....nope, I remember now, they're good....well, at least his calves are....not so sure about his thighs....great, there's that icky feeling again. Arms, now I need arms. Damnit! Why don't any of these guys work out? There is no one here that has good arms. I guess I could use Partner #3. Ugh, that's like putting motor oil on a hot fudge sundae. But, he seems to be the only option....why won't it stop raining....do I smell donuts....focus, I must focus....a chest, I need to put a chest on my imaginary man......seriously, what is with this rain. It's been like 30 days now. I'm gonna need to build an ark. CHEST!! My man needs a chest. Partner #1? There is a possibility that his might work. He's a little on the slender side. Not sure if it would work with SurferDudes ass....where is that fucking donut smell coming from? Did someone bring donuts in this office? SHOULDERS....my pretend man is shoulderless! Who should have to give up his shoulders? Oh! PatsFan. His are super wide. And excellent choice.....HEY, he has a donut! There are donuts in the office. This is just not working. The men I work are making this stupid game impossible and there are donuts here somewhere. I give up.

See, the perfect man is unattainable. Especially if food is involved and the creator has a little A.D.D.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Let Go Of My Ears. I Know What I'm Doing.

"I am the Queen of the Blowjobs", I announced to TH when we first became friends. So sure of my schlong tending talents, I never stopped to question his pleasure rate when he began receiving the treatments. I figured I'd had alot of practice, therefore I had skills. It wasn't until years later he made a smart ass comment about my "Queen" statement. Eager to banter, I shot back with "But, I was and I still am the Queen". He smiled, "You've gotten so much better".

Wait.....what did he say? I'm "better"? Does that mean I wasn't the best?

After I recovered from my psychotic breakdown and scotch taped my self esteem back together, I wondered: How do we ever know if we're royalty or just if we just royally suck?

If I could write about my first "head" experience without ending up in the doghouse, I would. I'd gladly share my tale of shame, humiliation, gagging and my (former) standing rule of "I'm not swallowing any of that stuff". But, that was during my probie days. I'm a veteran now. If I could count on my fingers all the times I've given TH the smoothy treatment, well....I would have alot of fingers. Maybe even hundreds. After all, we girls have that one special week per month where we just don't feel so fresh down there. It is necessary to travel south and pray to the one-eyed monster to keep our man happy and blue ball free. But, before I even get into my thoughts, techniques and all around opinions of the subject, I would like to go on record as saying "Who the hell thought up the term blow job". Last I checked, I believed there was suction involved.

Well lovers, here's a little history lesson.

The term "blow job" was originally prostitute slang for fellatio (I always feel so grown up when I say that word). It really didn't become part of the American language until the 1940's. It was reported that either the gay underground or the Jazz Era brought it up from the gutter. Truthfully, I don't remember exactly when the first time I became acquainted with the term. But, I have fond memories of sitting in the back of the school bus, listening to Andrew Dice Clay on my Sony Walkman. I recall him questioning who was the first woman who thought it would be a good idea to stick that thing in her mouth. Come to think of it, I ponder that myself. Of course, the same could be said for the first man who thought it was brilliant to travel to WooHa land. I wouldn't go down there and I have one.

I will go entirely on the record as saying, I like it. Yup. I said it. I like to do it. Sure it's not my favorite thing on the menu (cough-doggystyle-cough) but I order it from time to time. Thanks to our massive Library Of Porn and plenty of practice, I can safely say, with utter certainty, and TH will back me up on this (if he ever wants to get one again) that I give some very fine fellatio (ooh, there's that word again). I have mastered teeth placement, lip pressure, tongue movement and the great art of swallowing.

Let's talk about swallowing for a minute. Now ladies, I will go out there for you all and say what you want to say, but don't have the heart to admit to your man:

YUCK.

Yes gentlemen, it's gross. We may say it tastes good, we like it, we love it....but we're lying. It is a gnarly mouthful of steamy, thick, salty ickiness that we ingest for your pleasure. Sure, there are those of us (me) who trick ourselves (me again) into believing it's a protein shot. Speaking of which, I will (again) plead will all men that they give us the "warning" before the volcano erupts. A "I'm gonna cum" will work very nicely, thankyouverymuch. Your love juice moves at the speed of 28 mph when you blow your load. If you have trouble imagining our pain, spray water from your hose nozzle in your open mouth. See. Hurts like hell doesn't it. That's the last time you'll joke with your friends about how our eyes watered when you busted a nut.

And what is it with the facials? I know that the guys in porn do it, but why do you have to? The porn guys do it for effect. If no one sees it, (i.e. it's ingested) how do you know it happened? When we're with you, we both know it happened. In porn, no one ever sees the aftermath of the spray. Did you know that your jizz dries at the speed of light, becoming the consistency of rubber cement and bonds like Super Glue. And if it gets in our hair, all bets are off. Didn't you "There's Something About Mary". They didn't make that shit up. I still wonder why NASA hasn't thought up a use for it yet. They're always having problems with those tiles falling off the space shuttle. Slap some spooge on the back of that tile. It won't be going nowhere after that.

Ladies, you may have a firm "I will not give head" rule. That's cool. I respect you for that. Everyone has their tastes, limits and likes/dislikes. Hanging with the main brain is not for everyone. But, before you swear off becoming deep throat, I ask you this: Why would you give up the chance to literally have his balls in your hands? Or...my favorite...lead him around by his balls? Learn a few tricks with your lips and you too can be Queen of Blowjobs.

Until tomorrow, I bid you farewell, my faithful subjects. Live well and suck hard!

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Random Tuesday Thoughts - IS IT OVER YET???


  • I would like to discover the person who added "in sickness and in health" to the marriage vows. When I find them, I will force them to spend time with TH next time he has the flu. Seriously, lovers, the man is making me crazy. He has been sick for 3 days now. I have waited on him hand and foot, bowed to his every whim and he is still complaining. Do you think he will remember this wifely pampering the next time I'm sick? No siree. He'll just get takeout 'cuz I'm too sick to cook and tell me to feel better.
  • I've just gotta tell you that things totally suck right now. I will not blog about it, but I'm a cranky, moody bitch.
  • I ran my first 5K this past Saturday and I ran the entire thing without stopping! Of course, my time sucked royally and that is why I'm not posting it. Although, I might have done better if I hadn't taken a 1 hour Body Pump class, then a 1 hour kickboxing class and mowed my lawn before the race. I am an exercise psycho.
  • Oh, and I should mention that I ran for a team that was sponsored by a local upscale lingerie store. I even got a fun tshirt. I told the owner that we should have run in bras. My suggestion was met by a very cool look and a stern "No". Okay, okay....not everyone digs my sense of humor.
  • If one more person call my office and says "Hi, this is (insert name here). Your number is on my phone and you just called me" I will personally find and disembowel them. Nothing irritates me more than a someone not listening to their voicemail before returning a call. Or better yet, there is no voicemail and they're just calling to find out who called them. Instead of sweetly saying "I'm sorry Sir/Madam, but we have 15 associates in this office. Are you working with someone or might you know the name of the person who may have phoned you? Maybe it was a misdial" I would like to say "Listen douchebag, there is at least 15 fucking people here. Why don't you be less of a jackass and listen to the voicemail that was left instead of being a lazy fuck and just calling back and bothering me. No, I will not walk around the office and ask 15 people if they might have called you. Go fuck yourself". Wow, that felt really good. I just might try that today.
  • Seeing that TH is out of commission, I am incredibly randy. Because he hasn't left the bedroom in 3 days, I haven't had a chance to fix the "problem". The bedroom is where all my toys are stored at the moment. I keep trying to sneak one out, but even in his delirium, he sees me. Of course, it didn't help that he was a total rock star last Thursday night before he came down with the plague. The man is a living God. I know I tell you this all the time, but seriously - he is amazing. I keep asking him if he's feeling better - both for my sanity and libido.
Here's my iPod on shuffle:
1.Get Stoned - Hinder
2. Pocketful of Sunshine - Natasha Bedingfield
3. Cry For You - September
4. Maneater - Nelly Furtado
5. My Life Would Suck Without You - Kelly Clarkson
6. It's a Ruse - Rosey
7. Just Dance - Lady GaGa
8. Bring on The Day - Charlotte Martin
9. Face Down - The Red Jumpsuit
10. L' Incontro - Andrea Bocelli & Bono

That's a random wrap, lovers.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Random Tuesday - Being Catty, Fries and Batteries.

Conversation heard around our house this weekend:

Me (calling from upstairs): Hon, I'm naked up here. Do you want to do something about it?

TH: Not right now.

Me (annoyed but not giving up): Why not?

TH: 'Cuz I'm on the couch watching golf and I don't want to get up.

Me: What if I come down there?

TH: I'll still be watching golf.

Damn, we are a hot couple.
  • Where did the saying "I'm gonna beat the shit outta him" come from? Why would you want to beat the shit out of anyone? Wouldn't that be messy and a bit on the smelly side? What idiot came up with that one?
  • I am convinced that Mariah Carey cannot leave the house without showing at least 3/4 of her boobs. I wonder if it's in her contract or something. Regardless, she is a disgusting, talentless whore. Yes, I am jealous. Of her boobs. Not the disgusting, talentless whore part.
  • I think that it is hysterical when my dog farts and scares himself. He jumps and then quickly looks in the direction of his ass with a look that says "WTF just happened?" It doesn't take much to amuse me.
  • Automatic toilets never work for me. Either they flush when I walk in the stall or just as I'm starting to "hover" (I refuse to sit on public toilets). After I've peed, I spend the next 5 minutes or so jumping from side to side in the stall trying to make it flush. This is especially amusing when there are people waiting in line for a stall. I'm also that woman who is frantically waving her hands underneath the automatic towel dispenser. Those fucking things won't work for me either.
  • WARNING! CATTY COMMENT COMING UP! I enjoy it when we have new people join kickboxing class. Especially when it's one of those women who sashay in and make a big scene. They have their cute little outfits on and they push their way up to the front and make a big deal about being up there. They start flirting with the instructor and make sure we all notice them. Suuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrre we notice them. We notice when they are falling all over the place halfway thru the class and have to duck out in embarrassment. See here sweetie, if you had walked in like an nonbitch and stuck to the back until you learned the routine your wouldn't have been branded as a stuck up cunt. Whew! That felt good!
  • I have found the secret to getting fresh french fries every time you go to McDonalds regardless of the hour. Order them without salt. They have to make them fresh. Then, just put them in the bag with a few packets of salt and shake. VOILA! Fresh french fries. You're welcome.
  • I have made the decision to start using rechargeable batteries. I'm going thru packs of them!
My iPod is hiding from me so I am without the random 10 this week. That's a wrap, lovers.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Spending the Weekend With Bunny

A very special thing happened to me yesterday. I got something cool in my box...ahem...mailbox that is. No, I'm sorry to say it wasn't something for my contest 'cuz none of you have the balls to send something in. Instead, I received something that will make my weekend complete.

A new toy.

Oh boy, Oh boy....a shiny new toy. A fun new mini rabbit waterproof vibrator. I have found a new favorite site to order from Eden Fantasy's. You must go there and pillage immediately!

And just for you ('cuz I know you secretly want me to) I will test out my newest find and give you a full review on Monday.

Batten down the hatches! It's gonna be a wet n' wild weekend!

Thursday, June 11, 2009

A Day In The Life Of A Convention Booth Hooker

Oh, the things I will do for the firm. Oh, the levels of filth I will stoop to.

It's not every day I get to leave the office. In fact, I never get to leave. Maybe I'll take off for an hour to do an errand. But, I never get to spend the day cruising around, attending meeting after meeting or having elegant business lunches like the Partners. So, when I was invited (read: forced to attend) to the 33rd North American Heating & Energy Expo in Boston I felt like an escapee from Gitmo.

Now, I know those of you who know my true identity (I feel like Wonder Women when I say that), must be wondering why in the hell my firm would attend an event like that. It has absolutely, positively NOTHING to do with our business. But, let me tell you. There is big moola in fuel and if nothing else, our firm is all about the $$$.

Here are a few things I learned during my time as a convention booth hooker:

1. I will never again under estimate the power of my legs in heels. While I may be on the muscular side and I don't have super long, thin stems like Cameron Diaz, my legs got more attention than the information we were trying to hand out. Partner #3 kept looking at me and smirking. When I asked him what the hell was going on he said, "I keep thinking that these people are looking back over their shoulder to see our sign, but they're really getting a second look at your legs". Hey, what ever gets them over to the booth.

2. Unless you want to be cripple for two days straight, do not wear 4 inch heel strappy sandals if you have to stand for 6 hours in a row. I did sit on a stool every few minutes, but that just made the attention towards my legs worse. It's been two days and my feet, back, legs and toes are KILLING me! I have five gigantic blisters and I am hobbling around.

3. While the above comments make me sound like a complete whore, my attire for said convention was completely appropriate. My dress was a conservative grey, knee length, sleeveless Calvin Klein dress with a belted waist. My shoes were not hooker heels, but beautiful black chic heels with demure straps.

4. Do not business flirt with Italian men. They will take your attention seriously and will invite you back to their hotel room for ice cream.

5. Blue collar guys are so much easier to deal with than the white collar guys (or as I call them - The Suits). If a blue collar guy wants something, he'll just come right out with it. The Suits are stealthy and sly. They use big words and shiny objects. If you like my ass just say, "Hi, I like your ass." Don't get all cute and say "So, are you having a good time at the convention? Oh, and by the way, limn, tintinabulation, obfuscation, sesquipedalian do you see this shiny pinkie ring?" That just confuses me.

6. I must never again forget to have coffee in the AM and I must always eat lunch on time. At 2 pm I was running to the food court before I passed out from hunger and I was distracted by the goodies at the silent auction table. One of the convention coordinators was at the table talking to an expensively dressed Suit. When he saw me oogling the gift baskets and called me over to say hi. Even though I was on the verge of full of keeling over, I decided to be polite. When I walked towards the Suit he glanced at my convention badge and say, "Hello, Mistress Serena. What does Satan's Workshop do?" I just stood there with an open mouth and blinked at him. Lack of caffeine and low blood sugar had completely wiped out my brain. I couldn't remember what my firm was about and what we specialized in. I managed to sputter out a few sentences and couldn't answer him when he asked where our booth was so he could stop by later. He just smiled, shook my hand and left. Perky little convention guy said, "Ooooooh, he is a really important contact to make. He owns everything." Great. One of the most important people at the convention and I made a complete, blubbering fool of myself. Thankfully, I managed to get his info and have started an email relationship. SCORE!

7. If I was the only one at the booth, people would consistently stop to say hi. If Partner #3 was there with me, the flow slowed to a trickle. I kept shooing him away. He would wander back around after 20 minutes or so and I would hand him a bunch of business cards with a smirk on my face. Maybe if he didn't look so grumpy and bored people would have been more attracted to him. Maybe he should have worn a dress and heels.

8. Apparently my absence on Wednesday was distressing to many attendees and exhibitors. People were asking for me. I had hoped my presence wouldn't have mattered. Now, the worst will happen. I'm gonna have to do it again. I have become the firms "Booth Bitch".

I have always sneered at those girls who dress in tiny outfits and sashay around the exhibition booths. Now I pity them. I had to take a 30 minute shower to wash the expo slime off me.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Random Tuesday - By The Numbers


  • 6 - The number of hours I am forced to stand at my firms booth at a convention in Boston today. My presence there is beyond ridiculous. I don't have the credentials to discuss that type of business. When I asked Partner #3 why on Gods green earth was I going to this circus, I was told that the attendees would be 90% male. My mere existence would bring them to our booth like a moth to a flame. Then, the guys would take over. It's nice to know that the Partners are willing to pimp me out for the good of the company. Partner #3 actually had the nerve to ask me how I was going to wear my hair and frowned when I told him I was planning to wear a suit that had pants. Maybe I should wear a thong and Lucite heels? Why hide the fact that they are using me as bait disguised in a business suit.
  • 3 - The number of miles I will run in my first road race this weekend for http://www.womenrunningwild.com/. This is the start to my training for the team triathlon in August.
  • 2.5 - The number of consecutive miles I can run without passing out or throwing up on myself. I've got a long way to go. I'm really out of shape for competitive running.
  • 456 - The number of gnats (little bugs) that I have eaten during my training sessions for said race. I only have time to run in the very early morning or early evening. These are the two times of day that these nasty little fuckers swarm in clouds on the side of the street. I never see the mass until I'm about to run thru it with my mouth open, gulping in air.
  • 8.5 - The number of times this weekend I tried to sneak away to spend a few minutes with my new favorite toy. We are dog sitting 2 dogs this weekend. That means there are 4 dogs in our house. They follow me around the house like a pack. If I try to have some "me time" they sit on by the edge of the bed and stare at me. If I lock them out of the room, they sit outside the door and whine. TH and I managed to grab a quickie by turning on the stereo real loud. Nothing says lovin' like doing it to Ratt.
  • 11:52 pm - The number on my computer monitor when I caught myself massaging my bare left boob while thinking of what else I should list on here. I'm hoping that this unconscious act doesn't become a habit. It's not the first time I've mindlessly felt myself up.
  • 11:56 pm - The number on my computer monitor when I caught myself doing it again. It was the right one this time.
  • 14 - The number of hours I spent building my new website before I hit the wrong button and erased the entire thing. Did I back it up, you say? Of course not! I am truly an idiot
  • 22 - The number of minutes someone spent on my site after searching "How do I make my husband wear panties?" I'm not sure you found the answer you were looking for, but I hope you had fun reading.
  • 1.75 - The number in hours of sleep that I lost last night thinking of all the things I might forget for the convention today.
That's a Tuesday wrap, lovers!

Friday, June 5, 2009

Safe Sex - Historically

While doing some research for a future post, I came across some interesting photos I need to share with you:

For those seeking to sheath themselves in the condom of the 1600's, I give you the "Icky Deflated Balloon Looking Thingy"

Yes, this is actually a condom from the 1640's made of pig intestines (*gag*). If you don't want to use them with the ladies, well just whip one out of your pocket at a party and blow it up. This is a past time we haven't grown out of, 'cause the guys are still doing it.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Almost Wordless Wednesday - Hidden Vices

It's been a rough week at Satans Workshop. We've broken into the secret stash in my file cabinet. This box is for "Emergency Only." (there is a sticky note just to make sure).Is it Friday yet?

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Random Tuesday Thoughts - A Jumble of Stuff


  • I have 14 half emptied salt packets in my top desk drawer. Every time I get take-out I use the one that comes with the meal and never remember to finish off an old packet.
  • One of the walls in my office is a gigantic window. There is a tiny goldfinch that has been trying to fly into it for the past two days. When that doesn't work, he perches on the bottom sill, pecks at the window and chirps at me. His mate just sits in the tree and watches him. I keep thinking, "Dumb bitch! Why don't you tell your husband he's wrong"
  • I have been roped into entering a team triathlon in August. My father has asked my sister and I to compete with him. He will be biking 26 miles, my sister will swim 3/4 of a mile and I will run a 10K. Did I mention that this bloody thing is in Cleveland, OH? Cleveland in August. It might as well be on the surface of the sun! It's fucking hot that time of year!
  • Even though my house is only 12 years old, I think we might have a ghost. For some reason or another, my black thong keeps appearing in different places around the house. One day it was on the stairs and the next day it was on the kitchen counter. I have been returning it to my bureau drawer every time I find it. I don't think the previous owner killed anyone in the house. The only crime he committed was to sell all the fill and topsoil in the backyard for cocaine money before he lost the house to the bank.
  • I have to wear my iPod in the late hours of the afternoon because one of the associates sounds like a goober on the phone. It is so painful to listen to that I stick one of the headphones on and try to block it out with Metallica or something else angry. Phrases like "How are you doing with your bad self?" and "Oaky Dockey Shmoocky" make me puke.
  • Fruit flies have invaded our office. They were born in Surfer Dudes pig pen of an office and have since entered the air conditioning vents. The little fuckers evade assassination attempts, fly up your nose and buzz around your head.
  • I have an unfounded belief that soda is bad for you....unless eat it with pizza. There is something about the grease and cheese that cancels out the chemicals.
Here is the iPod shuffle of the day:

1. Black Horse and a Cherry Tree - KT Turnstall
2. Womanizer - Britney Spears (don't judge me)
3. Come Undone - Duran Duran
4. Stupid Girls - Pink
5. Mustang Sally - Los Lobos
6. Techno Syndrome - The Immortals
7. A Neverending Dream - Cascada
8. Standing on the Outside - Dokken
9. Land of Confusion - Disturbed
10. How Long - Hinder

That's a Tuesday wrap, lovers. Don't forget the contest. Send me your goodies!!!

Monday, June 1, 2009

Oh, All Right....

Some of you have strongly (to put it mildly) voiced your opinion on the nature of the prize I have decided to give away for my contest. I thought that a gift basket would be a good overall prize for both male and female contestants. I was pretty sure that the guys wouldn't be too thrilled with my latest pick for a vibrator. (I just ordered a new one and will be reviewing it as soon as it comes in the mail) I'm sure that their wives would be even less thrilled with the prospect of some crazy chick sending their husbands a sex toy.

So lovers, I submit. If you send me some of your local peeler bar stuff, you will have the choice of the gift basket OR a new toy (of my choosing). I will not offer up lap dances, (Lola, babe, I'll give you one for free when we hook up.), homemade porn or pictures of myself naked.

Now get on it! Go watch some titties and get me some goods!