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Bambi… meet Thumper.

ImageThumper is my rabbit. Not the warm, fuzzy and friendly kind. Warm and friendly, maybe. Fuzzy? Nah. More like… vibrating.

Anywhoo… how to start this story? It’s actually kind of a short story because I don’t want to get into the details of the “crazy landlady” here (that will come) so this will just be short and sweet.

I was renting a room near Boston recently. It wasn’t the most ideal situation but, it worked. It was cheap. It was clean. And I was able to have my pooch with me. I’m a simple girl and that’s all I really need. Or so I thought.

Privacy, apparently, is important, too. One night I decided it was time for a “girl night” to supplement (or completely make up for the lack of) my sex life. Yes, yes… girls have needs, too. I had been out with my friends, had a few strong martinis, talked to my crush and was feeling a little frisky.

Hello, Thumper.

This story is not about my night with Thumper (you dirty perverts!). This story is about the next day.

So, I lived with a crazy and her two sons. Occasionally, they would have her friend’s kids over to spend the night. No biggie. This particular night, some of the kids were having a sleepover in the living room (downstairs). One of them, a 4 year old girl. Let’s call her Bambi.

Bambi had been there before. She was cute but, also kind of annoying (in the pretentious, spoiled, I get everything I want, kind of way). She also loved my pooch. And by love, I mean absolutely obsessed over.

So, skip to the next morning. I had been up late. I may or may not have made out with Jameson (the only “stable” man in my life for the last 5 years) and I may or may not have left Thumper on my bedside table.

Again, no biggie.

6:30am, I hear Bambi in the hall calling out my dog’s name… me, in a semi-state of hungover ridonculousness, in a state of pure shock and horror, slowly realize that I’m also hearing the sound of the doorknob to my bedroom door turning.

Oh, hello Bambi.

Bambi… meet Thumper. Giant, pink member Thumper, sitting on my bedside table, 12 inches from your 4 year old face.

Awesome.

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