An Embarrassing Itch - Broadcasted

Well, well, well...I've managed to do it again. When will I ever learn? Huh? Oh...NEVER? You're probably right... You may recall that back a little while ago, I accidentally posted a job description here at work with "labias are on tv damnit!" in the middle of the requirements. Yeah, like that wasn't bad enough...

When writing these posts, I check for accuracy in my spelling and grammar and will google certain subjects to help insure some integrity in otherwise normally foul subject matter. So, for the post below, I googled The Clap to make certain that it isn't spelled with an extra p or an extra l or some such weirdness. After entering the website that you may find through the provided link, where they happen to be marketing PLUSH DOLLS of what they imagine to be the LIFE FORM of "The Clap - Gonorrhea" and "The Pox - Syphilis", I was called away from my desk to run downstairs to a class.

Before I continue, I would just like to ask, WHY do we need plush dolls of STD's? Is it therapy for the recipient of one to have a little stuffed microbe (or...life-form representation) of what is tearing their private parts up? "Isn't this CUTE!? LOOK at this little cutie-pie! It's sooo soft and cuddly and sweet! You'd have NO idea it's causing a burning in my danger zone like NOBODY'S FUCKING BUSINESS!!!! AAAHHHH!!! But, thank heavens I have this adorable little plush doll to take my mind away from how I'M GONNA SCRATCH MY PUSSY RIGHT OFF!!!! AAAHHHH!!!"

I've been lucky enough to have never been inflicted with an STD. However, I would gather that if someone gave me a plush doll of what was destroying my penis, my inclination would be to immerse it in gasoline, then set fire to it. And then with tongs, I would calmly hand it back to the thoughtful person who gave it to me. I think that this would be more appropriate.

Okay, back to what I was doing. So, I ran downstairs to take care of the problem. Problem fixed and I returned with my BOSS. He wanted to check his email quickly from my desk. The screen saver was on. My brain was off. He sat at my desk, jiggled the mouse to lose the screen saver and VOILA!
THE CLAP - Gonorrhea right in his face.

Speaking of embarrassing blotchiness, you may want to check out this story from our friend Moobs.