WHY I LEFT GUADALAJARA / SOMETHING YOU MIGHT FIND USEFUL
Tonight, Rafa suggested I try this method of bedtime meditiation he enjoys. So I did, hoping it would land me in some really deep and inspiring transcendental dreams—space travel, maybe, like we’d talked about—but not such vivid images and sensations of drinking tequila through my dick.
I offer for your consideration the clever apparatus that enabled the indulgence:
One problem that might inhibit the modest among us: I seem to have thought that the funnel could be worn for a moment and then passed to a friend, just as you initiate a siphon with your mouth and allow the hose to carry on solo while your partner works on the next car’s tank. I thought that my friends and I could partake as a group, but I learned quickly that I’d wear the novelty device until the shot glass was empty, or damage my penis and the funnel with it. So nobody could really do anything but stand there and watch.
What you might find of further interest is that the packaging, below, keeps things Kosher for Rite Aid and Duane Reade.
