So after I posted on my sweet potato latkes yesterday, where I talked about how I plan to go to my father’s house and be lazy while he cooks for me, my dad read it. So when I arrived he told me that I am cooking! My own recipe! So much for parent-child dynamics. But to make up for it, he made me a martini. His martinis always knock me on my butt, so I asked for a “baby” martini, which means it has less booze.

Well, apparently I am terrible at cooking and drinking simultaneously—even fetal, first-trimester sized drinks. I was so interested in catching up with my family and enjoying my didn’t-eat-all-day-plus-I’m-a-cheap-drunk buzz that I forgot to measure how much shredded sweet potato should go in (4 cups!) to my mix, and therefore added way too many potatoes and the latkes were a serious disaster. They wouldn’t stick together, they wouldn’t fry, they wouldn’t do anything but plop in the pan and sort of sizzle. Hanukkah fail!

latke lush

However, let’s talk about my gift from my father. To lend background to my present (and show you all where I get my enthusiasm for uhm, human sexuality) let me tell you about my cousin! I have a super brilliant cousin who, while getting her masters at Harvard (smartypants), had a project where she had to design, create and market a product. Her partner in this project would later become her husband. Their product? The ‘pleasant surprise’ bag; a swanky bag for you to carry and/or store all your sex toys in.

So, if you’re a call girl traveling from hotel to hotel in the dead of night, you can carry your tricks in this posh purse-style bag with separate breathable, mesh compartments that you can remove and wash to keep things clean. Or if you’re going on a romantic vacation—or spring break!—and you want to bring all of your dirty accoutrement, now you can do it without looking like the freak you clearly are. Or, in my case, now you can just store all your sex toys in one place instead of flinging them all over your closet, causing you to swear a lot as you dig through to find what you’re looking for.

Bag next to my fuzzy 8 1/2s so you can get a size idea.

This was my Hanukkah gift from my father. (My step-mother gave me a lovely globe Christmas ornament. Christmas ornaments as Hanukkah gifts! Ironic?) After I left, pops send me a text message to make sure I get home safe and tell me to “have fun loading my bag.” Weird?

The bag used to have a website, but since it’s been nearly a decade since the bag’s birth and my cousin’s project is in her past, the site now belongs to a cruise line.

Do you see how it says your VALUABLE adult toys? When my dad gave it to me (sorry for blowing up your spot dad but what did you expect, really?) he told me he didn’t think the bag was big enough for “all toys.”  The convo went like this:

Me: All toys?
Dad: Yes, like magic wands.
Me:  You mean a Hitachi?!
Dad: Yes, aren’t they like the Jaguar of sex toys?
Me: Pffft, I can’t afford a Hitachi…
Dad: It would be weird if I got you a magic wand, right?

Yes. Yes it would be. So, what did you get for Hanukkah? Are you frustrated with all the different spellings of Hanukkah? Does your family get you interesting gifts? Does your family design accessories for sex toys? Do you want to buy me a Hitachi? Do you think about Uma Thurman wielding a deluxe vibrator and going “Hitachi Hanzo!” when you think of the Hitachi? I know that’s a lot of questions but I have had SO much COFFEE!

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