Spin the WHAT?

Moving into this new apartment got me thinking about old apartments. I once lived with my friend Shanna on Franklin by Rudolph's and when we moved in we of course scoured the entire apartment probably with toxic combinations of bleach, ammonia and Windex to get rid of the gross people dirt most likely left behind by previous tenants.

I happened to be elbow-grease scrubbing out the hallway closet when I felt something in an out-of-the-way corner tip over. I jumped! I used my rag to reach and find the item. And then I really screamed.

It was a pink vibrator (I'm so sorry) shaped like a you-know-what (I'm SO sorry).

I was so grossed out and so was Shanna but we were laughing so hard at the disgustingness of it all when Shanna got the great idea to see if it still worked. She turned it on using two paper towels.

Yep.

We died laughing. She put it on the floor. We died laughing some more. It started to spin. Then we really lost it. Because it was like, at times pointing at me and then at times pointing at her like a game of spin-the-bottle. And of course when it was pointing at me I felt ashamed and Shanna laughed at me and when it was pointing at Shanna she felt ashamed and I laughed at her and round-and-round it went.

I don't know if I've ever laughed so hard again in my life, except maybe when Cory put on my stretch pants and did ballet poses in them.