I’m on a lot of painkillers, part 2

Okay.  So turns out that my finger is broken, but only in the way that the rest of me is broken, i.e., no bones are shattered but it’s still technically fucked up and useless.  Thus, I’ve had to type everything this week using one hand and I deserve a medal for this.  But I have to write down part two of my cruise experience because I’m on a lot of painkillers and if I don’t do it soon I’m not going to remember it.  If you’re finding this blog for the first time ever I recommend reading Part 1 first because this is going to be confusing for even my most ardent reader.  Or maybe just skip all this and go look at pictures of kittens.  Your choice.

Day 2:  So we arrived someplace in the Bahamas, I think?  And then we took another boat to some other place but I don’t know the name of it.  God, I should work for the Travel Channel.  The important thing here is that we ended up on a tiny pirate island filled with dolphins and crumbling 100 year old towers and rumors of buried treasure.  It was awesome until we were packing up to leave and Hailey got lost for the first time ever and I had a panic attack that I still haven’t recovered from.

"Look mommy! My shadow is a monster! Also, get your xanax out because as soon as you turn around I'm going to run back to the boat and hide in there because your panic attacks amuse me." She didn't say that last sentence out loud but it was totally implied.

Day 3:  Hailey begged me to let her go to the on-board kids camp so I dropped her off and on my way back to the room I realized that I’d lost my lipstick, which is a HUGE FUCKING DEAL.  I have to have lipstick on at all times or I feel naked so I went to the gift shop to buy some, except the cheapest tube they had was exactly the price of an unlucky number that I avoid at all costs so I asked the clerk if I she could charge me a dollar extra and she said no because she wants the ship to sink, apparently.  I told her that I’d just give her a tip and she said she wasn’t allowed to take one which is ridiculous because I’m supposed to tip the waitress who brings me over-priced drinks but I’m not allowed to tip a clerk who might very well be keeping the entire ship from sinking by simply not making me have to use that unlucky number?  I explained that that was totally ridiculous and she agreed although I’m not sure if she agreed for the same reasons and she recommended that I buy the only other tube of lipstick they had, which was $35 but I felt pretty certain that Victor would probably sink the boat intentionally out of spite if he found out I’d spent $35 on a lipstick because of a phobia, so instead I bought the unlucky number lipstick and then I promptly ripped off my thumbnail trying to open the lipstick package.  I blame Victor for this since the $35 lipstick would never have caused this sort of injury.  It was bleeding profusely and the clerk offered to call the ship doctor but I waived it off because it was kind of a relief to know that my bad luck was probably over and also because I knew that if I didn’t go lay down I was going to pass out because that’s what happens whenever I see blood.  So I quickly walked back to the elevator to take me to my room but my thumb was bleeding like mad by that time and there was a small puddle of blood beside me when another couple walked up and looked at it warily.  “Someone spilled their wine” I explained, both because it sounded more festive and also because I didn’t know if they passed out at the site of blood too and I didn’t want all of us passing out at once into a puddle of my blood because that’s unsanitary and also because it would look like some kind of drive-by shooting to whoever found us and that didn’t seem fair to anyone.

Then I got back to the room and used the head of a creepy towel animal as a tourniquet and drank some booze from the mini-bar which I know was over-priced but I was in pain and it was medicinal so stop judging me.  Then I sat down and read a book where the swanky main character toasts to the furniture and I was all “That’s awesome.  I never drink to furniture” so I toasted to the coffee table and the lounge chair and I felt very cosmopolitan but then I reread the paragraph and it turns out she was toasting to the “future”, which makes more sense but is incredibly dull.  Then I toasted the buffet and took horrific pictures of my mutilated thumbnail so I could show Victor what he’d done to me while he was out having a work meeting.   I might have had too much to drink.  Again, I blame Victor.

Day 4:  We’re supposed to be flying home but we have 7 hours before our flight so at the airport we found a guy who said he’d be happy to take us on a tour around Miami.  Because there’s nothing safer than getting into a car with a stranger who hangs around the airport.

Summary of the tour:  “Look kid!  A horsey!”

Hailey, horsey, little Havana.

“And there’s Humphrey Bogart in a car.  For some reason.”

I don't know either, y'all.

“And here’s the shop where you can buy all your animal penises.  I’ll be back to pick you guys up in few hours.”

Yeah. Go back and read that again.  It’s not a typo.

So was the raccoon giant or is the penis giant? Because I can't tell which noun is being modified. The cashier didn't know either and seemed surprised I was even asking her about penis bones. Obviously she doesn't read my blog. Also, YOU WORK IN A SHOP THAT SELLS PENISES. Know your shit, lady.
No shit, y'all. I can't even make this stuff up.

And I didn’t buy any of the penises because I’d already fell in love with Pocahontas Wikipedia who was hiding on a back shelf but I couldn’t afford him so instead I bought a bunch of necklaces with dead bugs in them.  This is when Victor threatened to cancel my credit card because he doesn’t understand art.

Why yes, they *are* totally bad-ass.

In short?  Best Miami tour ever.  And none of us got stabbed.  Bonus.

Comment of the day: Through a weird series of events, I actually own a raccoon penis bone, still in its original package… wait, let me rephrase that, still sealed in a little plastic bag. (The *original* original package would be a dead raccoon’s penis, which would be a weird thing to have lying around the house.) Anyway, I have no use for the damn thing, so it’s yours if you want it.  Also, I need to stop reading your blog at work, because screaming things like, “Oh my God, I’ve got a raccoon penis bone!” never fails to draw concerned looks from my employees. ~ Evn

118 thoughts on “I’m on a lot of painkillers, part 2

Read comments below or add one.

  1. Jenny you might want to invest in some of that quadriplegic typing software since you seem to be accident prone. I can’t believe you did not buy any animal penis bones…they look totally ideal for stabbing.
    .-= Alice´s last blog ..Hey You Guuuyyysss! =-.

  2. Obviously there had already been enough bloodshed for one trip! I think going on vacation with you (or frankly doing anything with you) would be QUITE the adventure!
    .-= Heather´s last blog ..Breaking Down =-.

  3. One hand? Jesus, Jenny, you are a true fucking professional. Someone get this woman a Pulitzer. And the Tony Award for Living Theatrically In Real Life.

    I’ll await my beetle necklace with great anticipation. And Tequila, because it just seems right.
    .-= Fuck Yeah, Motherhood!´s last blog ..Live Through This =-.

  4. Wow – sooo much better than my tour of Miami. Which was in the back of a taxi cab whose windows were glued shut, and the ac was broken…which would have been fine if I wasn’t sweating profusely in fear for my life every time we took a corner at 90miles an hour…as the cabby drove with his knees. Fortunately, he did not charge extra for showing us this amazing skill of his.
    .-= Domesticated Gal´s last blog ..Just Call Me Donna Reed =-.

  5. “giant racoon penis bone” will be the name of my new band. i’ve been starting new bands all over the place lately. we’ll probably have to be “formerly known as…” a lot because there are just so many really cool band names that i could name my band. i’m like the genius of band naming.
    .-= mylittlebecky´s last blog ..best. picture. ever. =-.

  6. So on one hand I’m happy to see you’ve posted about the penis’ in boxes, On the other hand I’m not. Why? because 1) you didn’t buy one for yourself aaand 2)…I’m now going to have nightmares for the rest of my life. Why? Because I’m absolutely HORRIFIED of chicken feet. And those chicken feet there, next to the Raccoon penis bones are absolutely horrendous.
    .-= Rebekah Mae´s last blog ..Le homme avec le blanc BMW. =-.

  7. I think Miami was trying to kill you. You got hexed.
    Though those bug necklaces are pretty freakin awesome.
    That voodoo chicken foot is what I see in my nightmares about America’s Next Top Model.
    .-= Bridget Callahan´s last blog ..Ain’t No Thing =-.

  8. I didn’t know peni had bones! I wonder what a cast would look like on one… would it just stick out of his fly. You’d have to explain the situation a lot.

  9. Oh, I’ll join you – I’m on painkillers for surgery I had last week. It is awesome. I have never before appreciated the amazing awesomeness of painkillers. Cuz you know they don’t actually do anything about the pain, they just make you high so you don’t give a fuck.

    Love the blog 🙂

  10. Did the voodoo people tell you what purpose chicken feet and penis bones served? Also, if your dad is a taxidermist, you can probably get free penis bones should the need arise. BAH-DUM-PUM. Also, the Pocahontas Wikipedia link takes you back to your home page…

  11. Is it possible to do a drive-by shooting while on a boat? Maybe if it was one of those people who had a scooter and went around on it because he/she have trouble walking? Because one of those people doing a drive-by shooting would be kind of awesome. In a comic book sort of way.
    .-= Kate´s last blog ..Check out the new banner =-.

  12. Its post like these that I like to think about people who don’t really *KNOW* you (you know cuz you and me are like BFFs now)…and I like to think about them reading this and thinking ‘its funny how she makes stuff to sound real’ because I want to scream in their face and said “ITS REAL PEOPLE.”

    Yup. that is funny to me.

    Oh and I now fully understand the term ‘boner’. thanks for that.
    .-= The Glamorous Life Association´s last blog ..If they came today, this is how it would go down. =-.

  13. I’m very disturbed to see them selling Racoon anatomy of any kind, let alone the kind that ruins the images I have of them spontaneously multiplying like tribbles – that is, without any sort of Racoon let’s-get-it-on going on. I like my woodland creatures friendly and G-rated. The voodoo chicken foot, on the other hand, is temptingly bad ass.

  14. i totally would blame all of these misadventures on my husband!

    i can’t believe the raccoon bone is as big or bigger than the bear bones. wtf. that’s gotta hurt the girly coon.

    humphrey in the miami hizzle. – love it.

    the dead bug necklaces are rad!
    .-= Patty Punker´s last blog ..Getting Ready for My Spring Tour =-.

  15. If you had just gone without the lipstick, and skipped the beetle necklaces, I’m sure Pocahontas Wikipedia would have been within reach. I’m not sure who to blame on this one. Hailey for making you lose your lipstick? Nah, she’s too sweet. You for your selfish need for lipstick? Eh. Victor? Obviously.
    .-= a´s last blog ..Show And Tell – Stealing Mel’s idea =-.

  16. Okay, guys, here’s the thing with the raccoon penis bone (I swear I am not making any of this up). In the rural South, back in the day, if a boy had a crush on a particular girl, he’d give her a raccoon penis bone tied with red thread to wear as a necklace. The bone itself–also called a “baculum,” “coon dong” or “Texas toothpick”–could also be worn by men as a symbol of their potency or (ahem) endowment: Think of it as voodoo Viagra. If Viagra was made out of raccoons. Or something.

    As a side note: Jenny, through a weird series of events, I actually own a raccoon penis bone, still in its original package… wait, let me rephrase that, still sealed in a little plastic bag. (The *original* original package would be a dead raccoon’s penis, which would be a weird thing to have lying around the house.) Anyway, I have no use for the damn thing, so it’s yours if you want it.

    Also, I need to stop reading your blog at work, because screaming things like, “Oh my God, I’ve got a raccoon penis bone!” never fails to draw concerned looks from my employees.
    .-= Evn´s last blog ..Quote o’ the Moment – Musings of a Preadolescent =-.

  17. I love reading your blog because not only are you the funniest person I’ve ever read, but the people who post comments are almost as funny as you! (But definitely not as funny, just almost!) Mr. Paul Maul, I love this: >“No bones are broken but still technically fucked up and useless.” Thank you, this may be the greatest metaphor for life that I have ever heard.< That is EXCELLENT! Wish I'd written it!

    I can't help but wonder why all those body parts (feet, penises, etc.) have silver caps on the ends so you can string a piece of leather or cord through & hang them up or wear them around your neck. WTF is that all about?? Also, the bears' penis bones being so small made me a little sad. Poor lady bears. I mean, where do you go from there?? If your big bear man is hung like a raccoon, you're pretty much never going to have an orgasm, are ya?!?

  18. Where can I get a copy of that kitten book?
    Isn’t your father a taxidermist? Couldn’t he make a stuffed squirrel in a canoe for you?

  19. I am reading this at work, LMAO and trying to make up the back story about what I am researching that involves animal penis bones and drinking with furniture in the event that IT checks the log files.
    .-= Jennifer´s last blog ..What’s in a name? =-.

  20. And here I thought that “toasting your furniture” would have involved a large fire… and a very large toasting fork.

    But imagine the size of the smores…

  21. I bet the girl bears are seeking out the raccoons with the giant peni because let’s face it, the male bears don’t stack up. Once you go giant raccoon penis you never go back I bet!
    .-= Steph´s last blog ..Dream Big =-.

  22. So glad there are now a few comments between mine and Evn’s ’cause not sure how I am going to leave a comment right after the offer for a brand new, unused, raccoon penis. (Eh, not sure whether it was unused when the original original package was still alive… We’ll never know now… Unless you can do a CSI thing with a raccoon penis… Now I am digressing more than the sinking boat…)

    1. Like you, I cannot live without lipstick on. And I need to have MY COLOR.
    2. I am with you on the Bad luck, Good luck even out thing. So sometimes I am relieved if my husband gets a cut on his hand because that means our house will not be burned down.
    .-= subWOW´s last blog ..“precisely ninety-one centimeters from himself” =-.

  23. Memorize this line:

    “I would have bought the less expensive kind, but it wasn’t FDA approved.”

    Best. Overspending. Excuse, Ever. Sadly, only works when outside the US. Or in one of those weird southern states where it’s socially acceptable to put your washing machine on your front porch.
    .-= Julie´s last blog ..Take a Picture, It Will Last Longer =-.

  24. The raccoon baculum looks a little bigger than normal, (though it is hard to tell from the picture). I’m guessing he was the hottest raccoon in the neighborhood.
    .-= iasa´s last blog ..Happy Hour Friday =-.

  25. You are too hilarious for words. This sounds like the kind of thing that happens to me when I travel. Except less penis bones. Or just human penis bones. Damn! Now I sound like a ho. I meant something along the lines of, “my boyfriend throws me a little penis when we travel”…or something. Anyway, I am going to see “Puppetry of the Penis” this weekend, so I guess we know what this week’s theme is!

  26. Okay, I know they call them *boners* but I was totally unaware that penises actually had bones… what does that say about me?

  27. So, the raccoon penis bone was larger than the bear penis bones. Maybe there’s something to the whole “eating garbage” thing. Then again, bears eat a lot of fish, so maybe there’s something to the whole “mercury in your seafood” thing.

    Probably not, but the raccoon penis looks like it would make an excellent lock-pick. So perhaps the men who wore it as a symbol of potency were nothing more than neighborhood thieves. In the spirit of raccoons, of course.
    .-= Ian´s last blog ..Virtual Minimalism =-.

  28. WOW!
    This is the first time I have read your blog and I loved it.(yes I read part 1 first)
    You may well have singlehandedly saved me from the mindnumbing clutches of facebook’s farmville and cafe world applications, which I have been using as ethernet tranquilizers to enable my avoidance of real life issues. I now realise that I must return to blogging so that I don’t miss your next post.

    I’m off to tell my brother and anyone else who will listen about you.
    .-= cathy´s last blog ..Perfect in Public =-.

  29. Basically, I need medication every time one of my twins steps behind me in a store, and I start swinging my head around wildly, screaming his or her name, attracting the attention of everyone in a 100-mile radius, while the poor child tugs on my shirt, saying, “Mommy? Mommy? Hewe I am, Mommy.”

    If one of them hid from me? I’d be dead. I’m sure of it. They’re going to think that’s really fun one day. Assholes.

    Anyway.

    “I’ve had to type everything this week using one hand …”

    Heh-heh. Euphemisms are funny.

    And also?

    Penis bones. So many biological questions here …
    .-= Sarah p´s last blog ..Your Friday Lenten Prayer Service, or How I Ruined the Curve for Everyone =-.

  30. How much did those penis bones cost, anyway? I use things like elk teeth and rattlesnake vertebra as decorations in my spirit masks. If I had some penis bones, I bet I could charge more. Where exactly is this place? I might have to go on a shopping trip.
    .-= Judie McEwen´s last blog .. =-.

  31. Back when I was in graduate school in zooarchaeology, we’d use raccoon bacula as swizzle sticks in our cocktails. It seemed appropriate. Raccoons have the prettiest penile bones in the entire animal kingdom, with a swooping, yet gentle “S” curve. It is rare to find them unbroken in roadkill, so when you do, it definitely time to celebrate with a cocktail and your new swizzle stick.

  32. Hey Jenny

    I broke my right wrist some 5 weeks ago – http://londoncitymum.blogspot.com/2010/02/so-hows-triathlon-training-going.html – and have been ‘managing’ since (I use that term lightly). That includes typing, writing (albeit worse than usual), making meals, catching public transport, and intimidating fellow passengers.
    I even tried riding my bike this evening. My kids left me their wake. Embarrassing.

    And you are whinging about a broken FINGER?

    As they say here: ’nuff said.

    LCM x
    .-= London City Mum´s last blog ..Time to make my mark in The Gallery: Spring glory =-.

  33. Can you please let me know where you can get those boar penis bones? They’d be perfect for a friend of mine.

    I also have to have lipstick on all the time, but I thought I was the only one. Thank god there’s at least 2 of us lipstick-needy in this world. FYI, I would have gone for the more expensive one. If you had taken me on the cruise with you, I would have totally told you that, and all this would not have happened…
    .-= Mary @ Holy Mackerel´s last blog ..The Passive Aggressive War Has Begun And Proverbial Fists Are Flyin’ =-.

  34. Sounds like an interesting vacay… I just wanted to tell you of the sheer joy I felt when I opened this weeks Houston Press and there was your blog in the top 10 blogs that “rock put world”! Woot!

  35. I so would have bought a penis bone. But my husband would never let me take it out of the package and play with it. You know, cause he has to beg me to take his out of the package and play with his…lol
    .-= lanned´s last blog ..The greatest woman I know =-.

  36. Fuck my furniture. I’m not toasting them for shit. They’re always breaking my toes or smacking my funny bones or bruising the shit out of my hips. They gang up on me, I swear. Sometimes the carpet gets in on the act. He trips me and then a chest of drawers jumps in front of me and leans his pointy edges towards my plummeting skull. Fuck them. They can toast there own damn selves.
    .-= Elly Lou´s last blog ..Look What I Made for YOU =-.

  37. or their. See what happens when you get me all riled up? Summabitch. I blame the chaise. Not that I have a chaise. I could never own a chaise, come to think of it. They are tricky bastards.

    I think this commenting thing is going super well for me tonight.
    .-= Elly Lou´s last blog ..Look What I Made for YOU =-.

  38. where’s the picture of the bloody finger, yeah, good enough for victor but obviously not good enough for us and we, the internets, loves you more. hmph.

  39. I meant “rock our world”….stupid iPhone assuming what I meant to say!

  40. I have tried (and failed) to figure out for seven hours the purpose of owning penis bones. I am very aquainted with one penis, and while I enjoy it’s offerings from time to time I have absolutely NO use for the bone within it. Not to be confused with the bone-r. Wait, what?

  41. I am too drunk to read the whole thing…..will continure tomorrow….but for $35 you should just start buying Chanel UltraWear….it is the FUCKING SHIT….seriously….and it doesn’t come off!!! so totally worth the $35…My friend that hosts “Corn Dog Day”, in Martindale, TX, ALWAYS wants to borrow my lipstick….so tomorrow when I see her I am surprising her with her VERY OWN tube of Chanel UltraWear…
    This isn’t a commercial, or infomercial…the facts…..
    Ok….I should probably stay off the computer for the rest of the night….but since I dropped my old laptop on the ground (last night) it hates me and so I bought a new one….I have to just be on the new computer to show the other one that I hate it, too….there are times it made me feel I was thrown on the ground but I never booted up with a blue screen with a bunch of jibberish saying “FUCK YOU” — ok that was me paraphrasing…still…
    .-= NinjaDragonFly´s last blog ..Red Eye Alert =-.

  42. The necklaces are amazing.

    I’m thinking, on twitter, I might have to change my ‘bendy’ list to broken, because god knows all my bendy friends are completely broken too and then, I could add you to my broken list. Because fuck, if we’re going to be broken we at least get to be awesome about it.

  43. Wow what an adventure..i almost died laughing at the whole raccoon penis thing..btw i love your dead bug necklaces totally bad ass and you are right to blame victor.

    ps: a little info for you in case you care…
    Throughout many cultures, the penis bone has been used in rituals and is believed to possess the power and virility of the animal to which it once belonged.

    In Chinese traditional medicine, tiger and bear bone penises are considered aphrodisiacs!
    c
    oh and also this because i found it somehow weirdly interesting and thought maybe you should know it too..The largest baculum in the mammal kingdom belongs to the walrus, which can reach a length of 30 inches (75 cm): as big as a human femur! Even large dogs have a 10 cm baculum!

    Most mammals have a unique bone called baculum (also penis bone, penile bone or os penis) in their penis. The only mammal species without baculum are the humans, horses, donkeys, rhinoceros, marsupials, rabbits, cetaceans (whales and dolphins), elephants and hyenas.

    But baculum is present in most primates, rodents, carnivores, seals. The penis bone is kept in the abdomen and, when needed, a set of muscles push it into a sheath in the fleshy part of the penis.

    It enters within the erectile tissue, providing rigidness to aid during the copulation. The penis bone varies in size and shape by species and its characteristics are sometimes used to differentiate between similar species.

    okay and now i am done because i am creeping myself out that i know any of this and wondering if i have something wrong with my brain…
    .-= melissa´s last blog ..Dearest Emily.. =-.

  44. Omg I thought I was going to be the only person in the Midwest with an almost obsession with the raccoon penis bones! I try to get hunters to bring me penis bones so I can make pins out of them for the Harley riders which they just love I might add. The process is somewhat tedious and I can’t eat chicken for quite some time following the “boiling process” but anyway I guess raccoon pelt sales are down and no one is hunting raccoons which means NO PENIS BONES!! How a woman supposed to suppliment her income without the BONE? Maybe I can ship them in from Miami although I don’t know if the bones in Miami are as big as the ones in the midwest but I’m sure they’ll do. No bones, Scarybug.

  45. Can you please take pain killers before every blog post? This was super incredible to read. For real.

    Oh, and am I dumb because I didn’t think penises had bones?

    And, the necklaces. Just a touch creepy in the fact that they are encased in a heart shape.
    .-= Kendahl´s last blog ..SkinMD Discount Code! =-.

  46. I toast my recliner every evening, then I toast the ice packs for my back. I have decided that, even though the “good” meds take the pain away, I don’t want the people at the drugstore to think I am addicted to them, and give each other knowing looks when I come in, even though I am walking funny and have that look of agony on my face. They probably think I am faking that just to get the “good” drugs. Ice works almost as well, anyway, and I don’t get the blind staggers from mixing wine and narcotics. It also allows me to continue to run with scissors without the fear of bumping into something and putting my OWN eye out.
    Thanks for the laughs, Jenny!
    rogueartistsspeak.blogspot.com/
    .-= Judie McEwen´s last blog .. =-.

  47. You must have bought the other necklace for Tanis because they SO match her “coon” earrings. No, that is not me being derogatory. She wears roadkill in her ears.

  48. Last time I was in NYC, I walked into a store with animal penii, teeth, claws, change purses made of toad corpses and other vile items, and I left, disgusted, because who would ever buy such things? Sadists, is who.

    Then I had a drink next door, and came back and bought a penis, a piece of petrified dinosaur shit, and a vile of wooly mammoth fur. “For the kids” I told myself. “I’m buying these for the kids.” (What kids? I don’t have kids!) I’m telling you, setting up that shop next to a bar was a genius move, like the whole Krispy Kreme next to the Curves tactic.

    So there’s a moral here, which is: Don’t judge, lest ye buy penis bone. Or: Let he who is without whale penis cast the first stone. Or: people in glass houses shouldn’t throw dinosaur shit. All three of those are in the Bible, I think.

  49. Methinks my fly poop bracelet may be a tad more “bad ass” than those necklaces. At least, pretty close. Or almost. But yours are most definitely prettier, so, if “prettier” is a sub-category of “bad ass”, you totally win.

  50. I am wondering if Lil Magill who everyone knew as Nancy would have been in the next room with Dan if Rocky Raccoon’s was giant

  51. I watched the kitten video, too. I loved the dialogue!
    I also checked out your advice column. I actually had an advice column once. It was in our HOA newsletter. Everyone thought it was very funny–everyone except the incoming board of directors. One question I received was about sueing the board of directors. I thought my answer was hilarious, but some people have no sense of humor. They told me my services were no longer needed. They only lasted a year and then were voted out.
    .-= rogueartistsspeak´s last blog .. =-.

  52. I injure myself often, I’m a klutz, so I keep a list of cool stories to use for those injuries that are way better than “I fell on the dog’s leash” or “I stepped on a little person and skidded across the kitchen floor.” I tell everyone else who is accident prone to carry such a list, but you do not seem to need one. Unless of course you actually tripped on a little person and are just blaming Barnaby- shame on you Jenny. Or that is awesome, one of the two.

    Also when I say little person I mean the plastic toys, not you know a human little person cause I would have no idea what they were doing on my kitchen floor.
    .-= mountainmomma18´s last blog ..I shall name him Squishy and he shall be mine/ Or things I would like to see bloggers say =-.

  53. This post prompted me to google whether or not a penis has a bone. I didn’t find the answer – but I did find some new porn sites. So thanks for that.

  54. Toasting the furniture is the only way any of us can stay sane in this world. The armchairs, especially need some lovin’.

  55. I’m really worried about all those animals walking around with limp, boneless penises. That sounds overwhelmingly sad.
    .-= Lori´s last blog ..Evidence =-.

  56. Forget the penis bones, did you see the bat skeleton in the case? Shame on them! Don’t they know the bats are dying from White Nose Syndrome (true story)? Once all the bats are dead we’ll be knee-deep in insects so I guess the bug necklaces will be all the rage because we’ll have to do something with all the insects so they don’t destroy the food crops. And you should have totally gotten the $35 lipstick. You would still have your thumbnail. And I get faint looking at pictures of dental molds so yea, I’d be on the floor at the sight of blood too.

  57. Am I the only one who didn’t know penises have bones? Although, now that I think about it, that would explain the term “boner.”

  58. Penis bones . . . being the daughter of a nurse i thought I had heard everything. Goes to show, we all need to travel more. At least you weren’t drinking from it like a straw in some drink wehn you found out what it was . . .
    C

  59. So much ado over the penis bones. Novel & interesting, yes, but the lipstick is so much more important. Had I been with you, you would have totally bought the $35 one – that girl way back in the comments took the words right out of my plumped & pouty & perfectly lined and glossed mouth. I can’t even answer the telephone without lipstick on. I seriously resemble a corpse otherwise. AND, you were on a business trip, helloooow??? You charge absolutely everything to your cabin. Pre-tax dollars, that was really only like a $27 lipstick, and when you deduct for manicured thumbnail and blood loss and bandaids and mini-bar emergency anesthesia, heck, they owe you for that lipstick. You should have used a life-line on that cruise and phoned a friend. But don’t beat yourself up – number phobias will do that to a person. I have a thing about even numbers – can’t stand them. I always buy seven apples or five potatoes or three boxes of pasta or 13 bottles of wine or 5 bottles of gin. I actually had another baby because I couldn’t stand going through life with an even number of children. Subconsciously, anyhow.

  60. OH and I forgot about the “fashion quotient” – a little thing my Mom shared with me long ago: you divide the price of a must-have item (granted, it’s usually something like a wonderful jacket, or the perfect little black dress, but, given my lipstick addiction, I have always “applied” it) by the number of times you will wear it, and voila, you have your reason to go ahead. $35 divided by thousands? That lipstick is practically paying you to sport it.

  61. Penis bones are called baculums. I know this because we learned to ID different baculums in college. Beavers, raccoons, squirrels, porcupines, and several others. We actually got a grade on it. I do not know why. But, if I ever end up on a crime scene show with a severed penis at least I’ll know what it belongs to. I ended up making a pair of mink baculum earrings and a necklace.So much better than a mink coat…
    PS There is a phallus museum in Iceland. http://www.ismennt.is/not/phallus/ens.htm A museum of penises. Please say you will go. How could you not?

  62. I just started reading you’re blog and you’re awesome. Also I didn’t know you had a kid. Was pregnancy gross, I bet it was gross. Well anyway, stay awesome.

  63. I was raised with Native American customs and we use bear penis bones to stamp down the tobacco we load in traditional pipes. No joke. It’s the perfect size and shape to pack a tight bowl that keeps burning while you smoke.

  64. I have recently discovered your blog and can totally relate to all your posts. This post struck so close to home, I had to comment. A few years ago when I was first working at LSU in Baton Rouge, one of my co-workers asked me to make a joke present for one of her crazy friends: a pair of raccoon penis earrings. They are awesome, but even my red-neck relatives were shocked.

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