I love, love, love the emails I get. On occasion… on many occasions… it gives my mind the chance to wander into Inappropriate Land. I feel at home there.
Here’s a fascinating email:
Does this mean that ladies are supposed to have a conversation with their jayjays?
I suppose an intimate convo between a 20-something and her jay might go something like this:
JayJay: We need to talk.
(Moment of silence while JayJay tries to find the right words to say)
JayJay: I don’t know where to start, so I’m just gonna put it out there. I’m not happy with what you’re putting inside me.
Sara: What are you talking about?
JayJay: That sloppy fat ass you brought home last night!
Sara: Well, well........ I was lonely. And…
JayJay: This isn’t the first time. And you let him throw up in me! Do you know how gross that is?
Sara: I mean. Things got out of control, like, pretty fast, and I wasn’t thinking…
JayJay: I liked you better when you were into rabbits and eggs. Leave it to the pros!
JayJay: Why do you hate me so much?
Sara: I had a lot of Fireball, okay?
JayJay: Stop. Drinking. Fireball.
(The conversation breaks for a moment)
JayJay: I love you. Why can’t you love me? Just you?
Sara: Because I could go blind, right?
*End of scene
Editor-in-chief Kathy Vogel shares what's on her mind... through her fingers.