Sex Is funny except when it’s horrifying.

Remember that time when that sex toy company approached me on my mommy blog and my co-blogger and I asked him for sex swings for our community playground and then he refused to respond to us so we posted the whole thing on the Houston Chronicle and the execs at the dildo company were all “Oh my God.  We’re so sorry.  Let us make it up to you by hiring you to write a sex column for our ‘SexIs’ magazine” and I was all “I think you have the wrong girl” and they’re like “How about you just write a lot of vagina jokes and review bad porn and Hello Kitty sex toys?” and I’m all “Wow.  That…totally sounds like me” and they’re all “And we’ll give you one million dollars and a rubber T-rex mask” and what’s really weird is that all of that is true except for the one-million-dollars-and-the-T-Rex-mask thing, which is fine because I already have a T-Rex mask.

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So then I went to look at their site because I couldn’t understand how I could fit in a magazine called “SexIs” but then I saw their banner and was all “Wow.  Clearly I have no idea what sex is anymore.”

(click to embiggen)

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So I decided to do it because it’s bad luck to turn down a job where you get paid to write about clown p0rn so you should come and check it out because it’s fairly safe for work since it’s sort of more a humor column than a sex column and I’ve blacked out all the penises.  Also laughter in the workplace increases productivity and safety so technically if you don’t get your arm ripped off in a tractor today it’s probably because of me.  You’re welcome.

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