As far as I know I am not Irish, however, rumor has it that EVERYONE is Irish on St. Patrick’s Day. Let your inner Leprechaun shine!
Considering I’m not a big fan of drinking in excess or the color green one would think March 17th would be a dud for this girl. Hell to the no!
There are plenty of other ways to celebrate this “holiday.” Have you ever heard of Irish Soda bread? Sweet mother of everything wonderful. I crave this delicious lump of dough the second I turn my calendar.
Irish Potatoes are another delicacy that seems to surface the second Cupid leaves town. I’m not sure if any official scientific studies have been conducted to determine the level of sugar ingested by consuming one of these gems, but my unofficial study has determined the level is Diabetes. Insulin dependent diabetes to be exact.
Let’s not forget one of my old time favorites Lucky Charms. Oh, yes, these can be purchased all year round in the cereal isle of your local grocery store. Honestly, nothing says “magically delicious” more than picking out all the marshmallows and hiding them from your sister … hehehe!
Here’s a little something to get those Irish or sudo Irish eyes smiling today.
The bar for shenanigans has risen.
Apparently the myth is true, little piggies do go to the market.
Do not let this cuteness fool you.
The moment you realize everyone can read.
Someone will pay dearly for this trivial expression of shenanigans.
May your troubles be less and your blessings be more, and nothing but happiness come through your door.
Let your Shamrocks & Shenanigans ride shotgun while you …. Enjoy the Ride!
Happy St. Patty’s Day!
As you know from my previous post I recently experienced the art of Floating. What is it you ask? Well, it can be described as the best freaking thing since sliced bread by me.
In the beginning, it took me awhile to get comfortable. Naked and alone in pitch black room takes a minute to absorb.
I closed the door but left the low light and music on at first. The water was body temperature warm and soothing. Eventually, I did turn the lights and music off as I slipped into the quiet, peaceful zen. It didn’t take long before I was able to completely let go. Free at last.
The coolest part for me was having no concept of time whatsoever, and not caring about it at all. It feels so good.
Float Spas are popping up in my area, but from what I understand floating is nothing new, however, the experience has certainly changed. Once you add the word Spa it becomes sexy.
Apparently, floating also went by the name Isolation Tank, and are you ready … Sensory Deprivation Tank, as far back as 1954. This sounds scientific, not sexy so there were no appointments needed.
Today isolation tanks are located in beautiful rooms with inviting names like “Oasis” or “Grotto” that are chock full of amenities like fluffy towels, robes, scented soap, and shampoo. Anything to divert you away from the fact that you will soon be naked as a jaybird.
My room was spectacular with its private shower, candles, and a hint of lavender. This is how you get your zen on. The room my husband experienced is best described as a Pink Floyd lap of luxury fusion. Trippy with a dash of zen.
The idea behind the floatation therapy is to provide you with a way to pause the hectic, saturated world and enter a state of deep mental and physical relaxation. It takes you away from the endless sensory experiences that seem to consume us these days. It should be mandatory for teenagers and college students.
Just imagine if you could go into your head and give it a good Spring cleaning, leaving not a single dust bunny to clutter your thoughts, allowing you to focus on whatever you please. It basically brings out the best in your brain. My mind left fresh s a daisy.
As for the physical benefits, whew there is something to be said about feeling like a noodle. My muscles take a beating at the gym at least 4 times a week, so they were very grateful for this treat.
The magnesium from the Epsom salt-infused water brings your muscles back to life. It relieves tension and makes your skin incredible. I left looking like a smooth glow-worm.
All in all, it was peaceful, relaxing, invigorating, enlightening all rolled up into one amazing 90 minutes. This was a first for me and my husband, and we would both do it again, and again, and again. As they say, whatever makes your boat float, or in this case, booty.
Enjoy the Ride!
I’ve come to the conclusion that extreme anything is just too weird for me. It doesn’t matter what the subject is, I’m basically too lazy to be extreme. Seems like a lot of work.
Last night I popped into the grocery store for a pack of gum before hitting the gym. There is something euphoric about chewing while sweating my ass off that makes the experience a little less horrible. Clearly, I enjoy chewing or I wouldn’t have an ass to sweat off!
I noticed something going on in the line next to me. A crowd had formed. There were three-baggers in place, and I believe smoke coming from the conveyor belt. The only thing missing was paparazzi.
Of course, the Newsy Susie in me had to inquire. Turns out I was about to witness an extreme couponing moment. I confess I have watched the Extreme Couponing show more than once. Because I like to witness insanity at its finest.
Let me just put this on the record. I’m all for using coupons and saving money, however, I am not into math beyond 50% off or buy one get one free, especially while shopping. Nor to I have a bunker to store 5,000 bottles of laundry detergent that I got for 30 cents.
Just listening to the explanation as to how someone would manage to purchase 100 bottles of shampoo for 2 cents is enough to give me a headache. Literally!
So, back to the insanity at register 2. This woman had an entire cart filled with CASES of yogurt, and more waiting to be rung up. Doesn’t yogurt expire?
My bones were getting stronger just looking at that amount of calcium in one spot.
Next on the belt were stacks of Lipton side dishes in a bag. Or shall I say bloat in a bag.
I’m not sure what else she had because I was too busy watching her frantically rummaging through her purse. Oh no! She FORGOT something.
It couldn’t possibly be coupons since there were enough to build that border wall we’ve all been hearing about sitting right in front of the cashier. Who has time for that level of clipping?
I’ll never know, and neither will you because the next thing I heard was “I live right across the street, I’ll be right back.” Followed by deafening SILENCE.
Enjoy the Ride!
Well, well, well look who is celebrating their 5th anniversary with WordPress. Ah, it feels like yesterday.
Last year, in celebration of this glorious milestone, I posted an essay that is sadly more relevant today Weapons of Mass Destruction Have a Face. A big orange face to be exact.
So, here we are, one year later, with the shit literally hitting the fan. Oh, happy day … not.
In just 365 days we went from watching this country’s biggest hit reality show to actually being contestants. I’m just sitting here desperately waiting for this show to be cancelled.
The show, as I like to call it, is “The Opposite.” That’s right folks, we are all participating in a new reality where our host is the opposite of being honest, treating women or anyone else who isn’t white like people, speaking openly, confronting situations directly, having patience, and basically just being a good solid citizen. The Opposite is now leading our path. Where we’re heading has yet to be determined.
In just a little over 30 days our host has brought several teams to the surface.
First, we have Team Merica. The bible thumping flag waving team who wouldn’t know the constitution if it were narrowed down to a bumper sticker, who take pride in naming at least two of the seven dwarfs, yet cannot muster up the name of a single Supreme Court Judge. They believe every alternative fact presented, including, but not limited to, our former president being a member of Isis.
The White Team is a sub group to Team Merica that includes well-intentioned educated folks who for whatever reason cast their vote. Some say it’s because he’s a businessman, others believed that he would “clean the swamp”, but most, in my opinion, did it because they were tired of a Democrat “giving away” everything they earned.
Next, we have Team Resistance. Not hired actors or paid by a 3rd party to participate. They are a feisty group made up of men, women, children, babies & dogs. They are taking to the streets to have their voices heard bearing signs, pussy hats, and passion for all that is good for the greater good. Their voices are speaking out for common human rights for all people. They are demanding answers from their elected officials regarding our planet, our healthcare, our animals, our freedoms, our sanity and OUR COUNTRY.
Then we have Team Oh Fuck. This group really, really, really thought they were doing the right thing when they went to the voting booth to cast a vote for “something different” and now they sit quietly pondering the definition of “different.”
Next up, Hollywood. This crew brings money, glitter, glitz, glamor, a microphone and a stage to spread a message they feel should be heard. This group has members on all of the above teams.
Last but not least we have Wall Street. They bring money, mo’ money and of course, mo’ money, which can easily allow them to rule the world … literally. Just remember folks the lack of a moral compass, a soul, and their cloven hooves will eventually lead to their demise. Hopefully.
So, in just over 30 days since the season premiere of “The Opposite” we’ve certainly been kept on our toes with the daily cliffhangers. What’s next? never sounded more terrifying.
Our new host likes to keep the teams confused. As they wander around questioning whether facts are truth or if lies are now alternative facts, which in our old world were just lies, he is vigorously flushing their tax dollars down the drain on his weekend getaways, our satellite First Lady, and my favorite, the 2017 Feed My Ego Tour a/k/a 2020 campaign rally. What just happened?
While the teams scramble to fact check like Ninjas, desperately trying to determine which news is real, fake or somewhere in between, Executive Orders are being signed sealed and delivered faster than a middle of the night Tweet. Diversion at its finest.
Thing have been tense between the teams. While each team frantically attacks each other via social media outlets, the wool is pulled further over their once bright hopeful eyes. Next stop, slaughterhouse.
Let’s just hope that this show will be cancelled long before the Season Finale scheduled to air November, 2020. Until then, crank up the music and Enjoy the Ride!
Is it possible to have a lifetime of happiness jammed into one week? Yes, yes it most certainly is possible.
It all started on Saturday, February 11th when we went on a double date with vodka and Neil Diamond. Oh, I know I have your attention now.
I’m not a drinker, not even wine, not even socially. Typically if I’m going to go “hardcore” for a night on the town, I’m doing it with sparkling water, and …. hold on to your seats… LEMON.
With that being said I’m really not sure what possessed me to order a Cosmo, and I have NO CLUE how that escalated to having my own damn shaker at the table (twice), but it happened. Maybe it was all the love in the air…hmm.
We went out to celebrate our anniversary, which just happens to be on Valentine’s Day, which is also the busiest night on the planet to celebrate, which is why we avoid it like the plague. We’ve lived we’ve learned.
This year we were invited by a family member to see the Real Diamond Band, a Neil Diamond cover band at a local venue, along with our two very feisty aunts. When opportunity knocks…answer.
Let’s hear it for Aunt Jean & Aunt Sophie who at 75 & 78 make Thelma and Louise look like freaking church ladies. True story!
Once the party got started, Aunt Sophie took to the dance floor with her air guitar in tow, whispering “I feel 25!” in my ear as she headed out for her first solo of the night. Aunt Jean was in charge of replenishing the cocktails in between dances. A task that kept her busy throughout the evening.
All I can say is there is something religious about singing Sweet Caroline at the top of your lungs with a group of strangers. Hallelujah!
No good story ever started with the word salad, this is fact.
Next up was Valentine’s Day/26th Anniversary. Nothing says I love you more than attending a therapy session with your mate. Flowers & chocolate are temporary, getting to the truth lasts a lifetime.
As if that wasn’t enough for one week my son turned 22 on Friday. It’s still hard to believe how quickly time passes. One minute you’re picking up their toys, the next you’re picking up the trail of socks, towels, shorts …… So, in reality, time flies when you’re bending over.
I’m kidding, not really.
My Zac is a determined young man making his mark in the world. He is bright, hilarious, and keeps truth in the forefront. Never ask his opinion unless you’re prepared to hear the truth.
Just when you think there is a break, my birthday hits the floor. That’s right ladies and gentleman I have gained another year. The BEST part of my day was Mother Nature, in all of her glory, provided this February birthday girl with a recording breaking 70-degree day. Can we get a round of applause?
I was showered with good wishes, food, jewelry, a new FitBit, a birthday hat at the gym, and a ton of LOVE lasting for days. Who knew turning 53 could be so grand?
Yesterday was the grand finale of the festivities. My husband planned a “surprise” for me, which would be fine if I were one to enjoy surprises outside of hitting the Power Ball, or my husband wasn’t the guy who gave me a turbo hair dryer for Christmas. He still thinks that was a great idea.
Have you ever heard of Floating? Click on the link and learn. I could never put into words how the experience was other than I would swear I saw a unicorn. Magical.
There was something liberating about the floating experience, or maybe that was just the unicorn talking, I won’t know until I try it again.
Enjoy the Ride …. make it magical!
On Thursday I had to take the fur babies to the Vet for a dental procedure. Easier said than done friends.
The hardest part was leaving them there for the day. The fact that they were being held, while listening to how cute they were as they were kissed on the head made it easier … for them, not me.
The procedure is equivalent to human routine cleaning. Except dogs are knocked out cold.
My luv bugs had no pressing issues other than having breath with the scent of Satan’s anus due to tartar and plaque buildup. A mint will not help breath once it reaches the Satan anus level.
The tech informed me that I should be getting a call on their status after lunch. When 12:01 came and went my concern started. I waited until 2:30 before making the call to check on their status. A lifetime … it was a lifetime.
At that time I was told Landon was still being treated, Peanut was waking up nicely with a “beautiful smile” and the doctor would call when all was done. Perfect!
When the doctor called she was very kind. She informed me that no teeth needed to be
extracted, but that Landon had a “crooked canine tooth” that could give him trouble in the future. If she said he needed braces it would have sounded completely normal coming out her mouth.
Fast forward to 7 pm when we went to pick them up.
This is when I started to think we might be a little crazy. We were discussing looking forward to seeing their excitement. Somewhere in between packing their coats and leaving the car running so they wouldn’t be cold.
The thought of them being high as kites never really crossed our minds. Peanut came out crying like the drama king he is and Landon stared at nothing with a little smirk. They were officially the crying drunk and that one guy who went too far at the party.
While all this was going on in the waiting room the receptionist presented the bill. I’m pretty sure it was brought to the desk with a forklift, but we were too busy with our high dogs to notice.
All I do know is that when these luv bugs smile I need to see a SOLID GOLD GRILL.
That evening the messages of concern from friends were blowing up my phone. Inquiring if they were in any pain. Wondering if they were “ok”. Pet people flock together.
The responses are as follows:
Landon is happily staring at nothing. Loving every second.
Peanut is being held like a baby. Milking every second.
My wallet is the only thing in any sort of pain. It’s still shivering in the corner.
They are being waited on by their two human roommates. Being hand fed scrambled eggs.
As we approach Oscar season, please look for Peanut’s name on the list of actors being considered for the ultra dramatic role as “dog who had his teeth cleaned.” This little guy has put Bette Davis to SHAME over the past few days.
Sport your smiles and Enjoy the Ride!
The Blessed Project hosted by none other than the QUEEN of Wild Rides Susie Lindau, could not have come at a better time this season.
It’s not that I don’t recognize my blessings, I do, I really do. It’s just that sometimes life sweeps in to rattle me in another direction. No doubt I am part squirrel.
This is why we need to take advantage of the opportunities when they are presented. So a big round of applause to Susie for providing us with the chance to be still. Even if it’s just for a moment feel the peace.
Recently I was Blessed to witness my mother’s joy, as she watched her whole family sing in unison the old classic “Happy Birthday” before she cast her 90th wish.
If joy had a face … this my friends would be what it looks like.
In September I was Blessed to celebrate the wedding of my nephew, and to gain this beautiful woman as my niece. Their wedding was spectacular!
The love for this couple was explosive throughout the entire celebration.
It’s been unanimous within the family that we all want to go back for a few more hours on Cloud Cullen.
Every damn day I am Blessed to come home to these two snowflakes.
No matter what went on in the day, these little lumps of love are there to remind me that I am indeed the best thing that ever happened to their world.
On Thanksgiving, I was especially Blessed to have everyone I love under one roof. My sisters who are always generous with their time and efforts. My brother-in-laws for being loving and caring men. My nieces with their intelligence, baking talents and beauty. My nephews who are passionate about everything from world affairs to Harambe the gorilla. The significant others that slip right into place with the craziness. My children for being such loving beings and my husband for always helping to make my day a little easier.
Blessings included were enjoying each others company, eating delicious food and laughing together. Playing Cards Against Humanity until our ab muscles hurt. Finding humor in every conversation on the table and most of all NOT TALKING POLITICS FOR A SECOND. (There were rumors of some quiet texting on this subject, but nothing was proven)
I’m Blessed to have good friends who recognized that a night of Running Through The Lights is exactly what I needed.
I’m Blessed that they are persistent in their efforts to get me to workout, sweat, laugh, pee and cry.
I’m Blessed to have virtual friends that are loving caring beings in and outside of the blogosphere.
I’m Blessed that they continue to show me love. Send virtual hugs. Make me laugh. Pray for me. Provide free therapy and genuinely care.
I am truly BLESSED for this photo that speaks for itself.
Enjoy the Ride!
Don’t forget to pack your blessings!
I recently ran late for work, which is very out of character for this early bird. Of course, it had nothing to do with me. Nope, I have to blame it on the dog. The ole “the dog ate my homework” just reached a new level.
Every day before I leave for the salt mines I take my love bugs for a walk. They are well aware of this routine and are normally waiting on me. This particular morning Peanut was suddenly MIA. As I was calling him I could actually hear the panic in my voice. Pets are not spared from my zero to catastrophic reasoning.
I ran up the steps expecting to find a four-legged comatose dog, but instead, I found a stuffed Ladybug smoking a cigarette in the hallway. (not really we don’t allow smoking in the house) and Pee Wee paralyzed by an erection in the bedroom! (erections are always welcome, except in this moment) Oh yes, this was happening.
Look, if you’re going to be late, I’m certain the line “I’m sorry I’m late I had to wait for my dogs erection to recede in order to take him out for his morning poop” will not only work, it just may go down in infamy at work places across the land. No questions asked.
My first jaw-dropping excuse came from Jackie, a young girl from the hood, who I had the pleasure of knowing early on in my working career. She called out one morning with this gem. “I won’t be in today, my boyfriend dropped his gun on my foot and I can’t walk.” It’s solidly shocking enough not to question its authenticity. Feel better and leave his ass is all that can follow.
Of course, all excuses can not be as great as these two, so we settle for what I like to call “The Lazy.” This is when you just roll over, pick up the phone and make that call before ever uttering a single word. You proceed to sound as if you’ve crawled through the dessert for a week while stating you are soooooooo sick you feel as if were hit by a truck. Yes, the groggy morning voice works but it’s lazy, lacks creativity and leaves you in the position of answering questions about your miraculous recovery the following day. Effort and imagination are your friends, people.
Then there is this classic, “The Silencer”. You start off strong with “everything is coming out of both ends.” Although this statement will have you on and off the phone in a nano second, it will also leave the door open. The recipient is left to wonder “how in gods name are you making this call?” or they are imaging you sitting on the toilet. Now one of you must die.
But I must say, nothing to date has even come close to the lengths one of my sister’s co-workers went in order to dodge a huge meeting in NYC. Are you familiar with the saying “less is more”? Well, you’re about to be.
This guy was one of those co-workers that had an all talk no show kind of work ethic. We’ve all had one of these in our lives.
My sister on the other hand is nothing short of a psycho perfectionist with standards through the roof. Martha Stewart meets Walmart.
She knew there was no way in the world he was prepared for this presentation. Even by his lazy standards.
Mr. Unprepared headed to the train station with his empty briefcase. The briefcase of deceit.
The next day the office received a call that Mr. Unprepared was a no-show to the meeting. Shocking.
This simple act now transpired into frantic phone calls to his cell, the hotel, the client, his family and anyone else on the planet who may have information on his whereabouts. This went on ALL day.
Imagine a full-blown investigation, manhunt, milk cartons being prepped for his photo and my sister feeling a tad guilty for all of those lovely adjectives she used to describe him. Just a tad.
Shit got real when his wife showed up at the office in tears with their baby and his parents with the faces of fear and anguish. All of this over not being prepared.
After hours of worry for everyone, and the revelation of huge holes in his timeline, he surfaced to state that he was robbed and disoriented. Really now ….
Ironically, once again his creativity fell short. If you’re planning on going to this extreme you better be the master. This guy wasn’t even close.
He came back to the office with no signs of a struggle, other than his smile. Talk about leaving the door open for questions. “I ate some bad sushi from a street vendor” would have been the appropriate way to go in this situation. Short and sweet.
This guy was the definition of Douchebaggery!
While everyone was fawning over his safe return, my sister was giving him the “I know what you did last night” eye. He knew that she was on to him.
So, what do rats do when they’re trapped in a corner? They head to HR with lies about their trapper. Oh yes he did.
Let’s just say he probably never saw the knock on his door, followed by the words “Hey Pussy, can I talk to you?” coming.
Enjoy the Ride! No questions asked.
I recently saw the quote “Alcohol, because no great story ever started with someone eating a salad.” This may be true but something tells me I could get a great story out of eating salad. There’s always a story.
Recently I went to the local mall in search of some fancy shoes to wear to a wedding. My feet have not seen anything fancy in years, so this was not going to be easy. I already ordered and returned two pair. Cinderella I am not.
My first mistake was bypassing Macy’s. The logic, if that’s what you want to call it, was to try stores I never shop in first. Why?
First up: Shoe Carnival. How inviting does that sound? I was in, out and emptied handed in 5 seconds. Carnival is the key word.
Next, I headed down to Boscov’s, where everyone on the planet seems to find amazing merchandise basically for free, except me. As I was browsing the shoe department my intestines began to rumble…oh yes! Glutes tight as I head to the ladies room.
I proceeded to do the shit shuffle from the shoe department, up the escalator, through the furniture department, where I was blocked by a kid throwing a full-blown temper tantrum over the lack of Pokemons. Get the hell out of my way!
This journey seemed 5 miles long through tar at this point. I headed down some godforsaken 1980’s hallway to the turn of the century bathroom where the gates of hell opened. No words.
Now that I was a least 2 pounds lighter I headed back out to the Mall with every intention of heading home. But no.
I made a sharp right and headed to Sears, because who the hell knows. There I was gazing over the shoes when a women dressed in red from head to toe, approached me with this statement. “If you keep smiling I’m going to file a lawsuit against you.” Alrighty then …
As I look for a glimmer of sanity I notice a man looking at me shrugging his shoulders. Seriously! That’s all you have is a shrug?
Ugh, I stood there alone smiling and now fearing a potential lawsuit. I decided home is where I need to go. Nope.
Just as I was about to escape I noticed the smile police browsing books at Barnes & Noble. She appeared very normal in that moment.
Next thing I know she is heading my way as if my smile was on the list of the 10 most wanted! Suddenly she is inches from me when she gave me another warning. “I told you to stop smiling!!” Good thing I hit the bathroom before this moment.
I found myself hiding in the Hallmark store texting my daughter and sisters about the incident, just in case I went missing. I learned that trick from Law and Order SVU.
At this point a normal person would have been sprinting to the car … not me.
Macy’s was my last stop. Within seconds I had a beautiful pair of sparkly shoes on my hooves. Life was good again for a nano second.
A lovely woman sat down next to me admiring my selection. I loved these shoes! I would have loved them more if I had the 4th toe on my Right foot amputated, but that was not an option. Yet.
We were chatting about the wedding, my need for an emergency amputation, and the fact that my shoes need to be beautiful and comfortable when she began digging down into her bra. I should have known this was not just an adjustment.
Just like a magician she pulls out a pair of dentures, puts them in her mouth and apologizes for talking to me without her teeth. A rabbit would have been less shocking.
My face must have been asking all sorts of questions, because she proceeded to inform me that her 70th birthday was coming up and she no longer cared what people thought. Truth!
At this point of my tale my husband asked “did you finally leave?”
Me: No, I asked her when her birthday was?
Me: I wanted to know.
Me: Because I wanted to know if she was a Leo.
Husband: Why do you care?
Me: Just be glad I do.
Although I left the mall without shoes, I did get this post.
That wedding I was talking about is TODAY!!!!
My nephew Ryan is getting hitched to his beautiful bride Monica. Hurricane Hermine is a no show in PA, and we are about to get this party started!
Enjoy the Ride … I know I will!
This article was shared on FaceBook by a dear friend. Sex Robots Are Being Made to Replace Men by 2025. Now if that doesn’t scream “click on me” I don’t know what does.
After a nano second, I gave into my temptation and this is what I read:
Sex with a humanoid robot will become common practice by 2025, even overtaking sex between humans, says futurologist, Ian Pearson. His report on the future of sex has been published in partnership with Bondara, one of UK’s leading sex toy shops.
Is a futurologist a real thing? Yes
As you can see, this was the “idea” of a man. My first thought as a woman, a/k/a the sex with common sense, was “that thing is not going to fit in the nightstand drawer.”
It was at that exact moment when I grabbed my idea shattering oozie and began to fire into Ian’s brainstorm to replace men in the boudoir.
I hope this letter finds you well. First of all, congrats on being a futurologist! No doubt your parents are over the moon with this career choice. But I’m sure you already knew they would be cool with it before you officially broke the news.
Now, back to the reason, I’m writing. This article does not mention how you came to your conclusion, but something tells me you did not interview many women in the process, because if you did, I’m certain this idea would have died a quick death in the early stages of its development.
First, let me just quote something for your article:
“A lot of people will still have reservations about sex with robots at first but gradually as they get used to them, as the AI and mechanical behaviour and their feel improves, and they start to become friends with strong emotional bonds, that squeamishness will gradually evaporate. While some people will enthusiastically embrace relationship-free robot sex as soon as they can afford one, as early as 2025, it won’t have much chance of overtaking sex with humans overall until 2050,” said Pearson
Honestly, where does one even begin?
Should I start with the price tag, the definition of “gradual” or your time-table?
Considering I grew up in the 70’s and expected to be flying around with my jet-pack by now, I’m going to say with confidence that your numbers are way off. Can you say Jetsons?
Our future adults will be too busy paying off their college loans to spare any additional cash for one of these things. Masturbation is free.
No one has time to wait for a mechanical device to start acting like a human being. Gradual is a long time. Not to mention we’re still waiting for some humans to act like humans.
As a woman, with a real vagina, I found some flaws in your prediction from the female point of view:
- Women are not giving up closet space to store this sex machine. Closet space would be negotiated if this thing could do wash and clean bathrooms;
- Women are not jumping in the hay with an emotionally dead robot … again. This thing needs to be charming, buy drinks and again, clean bathrooms if you want sales;
- Women are not cleaning their robot man after it has their way, women don’t play that game. If this thing is not “self-cleaning”, not like the oven, which still requires work. I mean literally finding a cleaning product, scrubbing itself down; and putting everything away, including itself, you can forget it.
- Women would insist on a money back guarantee. What if this thing starts taking on asshole characteristics during the development stage? NO!
I’m sure you’re ready to refute my thoughts with some scientific facts that claim women would live longer if they had more orgasms, which I’m sure has some truth to it, but in reality woman would live a hell of a lot longer without the added stress of storing a sex robot in the bedroom.
Enjoy the Ride! Preferably with a human.