There’s a fabulous job being offered in the UK at the moment and it sounds totally pleasurable. The pay is 28 thousand pounds a month and all you gotta do is test sex toys. I want this job. I can do this job. I will … Continue reading I’ll do anything, except…
I’ve just been to the Kruger National Park for a couple of days and gosh, it was astonishing. The game lodge, Africa on Foot, is gorgeous and rustic, we had elephant wandering through camp, saw lion bring down a buffalo, met fabulous people, swam, ate delicious food, watched the birds and bees, ambled with giraffe and drank single malt under magnificent African sunsets.
Now I’m back home and my job is to write a travel story, praising Africa on Foot, who definitely deserve praising.
But it’s really hot.
It was hot in Kruger, over forty degrees, and it’s really hot back home in Jozi too.
Which means it’s impossible to focus. Or to wear clothes. I can feel the sun on my skin and there’s sweat dripping down my cleavage. I cannot imagine stringing a sentence together let alone think of using punctuation.
So instead of writing a fabulous and original travel blog, I googled ‘best game lodge.’ I thought of course Africa on Foot would pop up and I could cheat a little with the story.
But the heat got to me and I somehow googled ‘best sex toys’ instead.
There are some fabulous sex toys out there.
I found a platinum vibrator covered with diamonds that sells for over eight thousand dollars, a dream love chair for ten thousand, and a very expensive royal dildo that makes you cry out in ecstasy every time a sapphire hits your g-spot.
It costs a million dollars and apparently Victoria Beckham has one.
There’s also a silver butt plug which I will not try or buy but it is kinda fascinating. It has a horse hair tail and who knew butt plugs had tails at all but okay, anyway, horse hair, horses, this brings me back to animals.
We saw, up close and personal, lion and leopard, rhino, buffalo, hippo, all the plains game and beautiful birds.
We oohed and aahed our way through every sighting.
Much the same one would do with a royal vibrator.
It’s still very hot.
So hot I’m struggling with grammar, spelling and punctuation.
So hot I may never write a Violet post again.
So hot I need lots of ice in my whisky.
I need a cold shower.
I need to cool down.
Or maybe I need a royal gold sapphire and pearl encrusted million dollar hits that g-spot every time vibrator.
The most exciting mail that I got today read like this:-
‘Dear Violet. I’m so impressed by your DIY as shown on your blog. Can you please give me more info on the stools and table?’
Usually, I get asked questions about the best place to meet a man, the most succesful dating apps, or where to find the g-spot.
Through my table building process, I have realised that DIY is very similar to sex.
It is very bloody satisfying.
A package arriving at the door is like foreplay.
Coaxing bits and pieces out of the bubble wrap is stimulating.
Fiddling around with screws and nails, kinda bloodcurdling.
Discovering the use of the Allan Key is as good as finding your g-spot.
And using a drill is the equivalent of a multiple orgasm.
The only difference is that DIY should be done under bright lights whereas sex is often best in the dark.
DIY, like sex, is not always easy.
But it is usually fun.
And I have had too much fun.
I’m afraid I may be a little obsessed so please excuse me while I look for my hammer.
I’m wearing a hard hat instead of heels and gloves instead of a garter belt.
And I’m sorry, dear reader.
But I may never pick up my vibrator again.