Greetings From 37,000 Feet!

Ah! Technology. I am currently in the air on my way to Arizona and look at this – WiFi in the air. Just throw your WiFi in the air – and watch Netflicks like you just don’t care. Last time I took this trip I was smooched between two large gentleman. Middle seats on planes suck – to put it plainly. I was lucky enough to score a window seat which is pretty cool especially when flying over the Grand Canyon.

I apologize for being out of touch this past week. If you’ve ever moved across the country, I’m sure you can sympathize with the hecticness. Hectic in a good way as I was able to see and say goodbye to my friends. Bad because there is so much going on. Starting with Diana Nyad and her failed 4th attempt to swim to Cuba. It’s sad because my vagina, Poonatz made this same journey 3 years ago and survived. Mostly because vaginas look like jelly fish and are ignored by sharks, unless they are bleeding. I know, GROSS but people, it’s been over a week since our eyeballs have met. Did you think I’d come back with an article about rainbow Unicorns and Jesus?

Anyway the story goes that when I lived in Miami I was surrounded by the finest most well-endowed gentleman in the world. Most of whom were of Cuban/Columbian (or both if I was Powerball-lucky) decent. Needless to say my vagina became spoiled and a bit of a big-penis snob. She developed a keen nose and full awareness to size and shape of a man’s flag pole and was able to spot a big bulge even if it was swimming in baggy jeans. Upon returning to Connecticut, the land where I was raised, a land that is lacking both in sexy-time and penis size – Poonatz become depressed, despondent and all in all disappointed. Not only were the men mediocre – but the coffee was watered down too. Miami has the best men and the strongest coffee in the world (at least the scope of my world, which to some is small). Imagine the horror on Poonatz’s face when she had to endure pinky-size penises and a Dunkin Donuts “dark roast” which is essentially is like drinking water-dirt in a cup. Shame.

It was a mutiny on deck the night Poonatz decided to abandon ship. We live on a marsh which drains into the ocean – the Atlantic Ocean – the same ocean where Cuba stands erect in the golden sun. Knowing her map well, she detached herself in the night, crawled away from my body and flung herself out of a window and into the backyard. During high tide the water rises to form a lake so that all she had to do was float, like a delicate flower back to the land where she wished she was from. The rest is history. On occasion I’ll receive a collect call and a postcard. But the true whereabouts of my vagina remain unknown.

This is fucking ridiculous story. I hope you enjoyed it. Stayed tuned. Poonatz may return with a story or two from the land of Arizona. I know she digs sweat lodges, Native American hotties and eagles. So if you see Poonatz show up with a name like wolf-bear-claw, hide your sons and lock all doors. I didn’t get the name Lady Tiger for nothing.

BTW: if you fly Southwest, the WiFi doesn’t work so save your $5.

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