This has nothing to do with Easter Sunday, but it was so weird that I had to give it a quick blog post…
Not one hour ago, I was walking to the drug store on the corner when I saw a Liberator sitting on top of an overflowing trash can.
If you’re not in the know, a Liberator is sex furniture manufactured for yuppies. You can read all about it if you can endure reading their cheesy website, but essentially, it is a wedge-shaped piece of foam ostensibly used for comfort and support during sex. I don’t have one myself–the humble pillow has always worked for me–but I know what they are because Rolling Stone magazine has run Liberator ads for years.
So there it was, in a New York City trashcan: someone’s used Liberator. It was definitely used. Looked a little ratty. Well, I hope it brought someone(s) lots of happiness.
|“Bedroom Adventure Gear,” puh-LEEZE! AMATEURS|
I almost took a photo of it with my cell phone, because I thought it was funny. I really wish I would have.
Now I am going to run to the Frick. Fortinbras is sending me on another art scavenger hunt. I am hoping to go out to dinner with Heinrich when he gets off work. I haven’t seen him in a while and I’d like to catch up, and it would be kinda sad to spend Easter Sunday alone and watching House.
(Actually, I wouldn’t watch House. Errol Morris just made a documentary about Donald Rumsfeld, and you can stream in on Amazon. Morris’s film on Robert McNamara, The Fog of War, is one of my favorite movies. I watch it once a year.
I have two more weeks of rehab, and then I’m going to visit my mother if I can afford plane tickets.