Boy, do I have a story to tell you. A few weeks ago, I had my birthday and I really really really REALLY wanted a butt plug. My boyfriend, who else, was of course more than happy to get me one. He actually ordered a set of three online and had them delivered to my place.When they arrived, he came over all excited wanting to see them, so I brought them out and we sat on the bed unwrapping and inspecting them one by one. I don't know if you know but butt plugs usually have their base designed to work like a suction device thingie (just like car blinds that you stick to a car window have for example). When my boyfriend figured that out, we started sticking them to walls and flicking them and having a jolly good time like two 5-yearolds (not that 5-yearolds should or do play with butt plugs, but you know what I mean (probably)). But as I sat in my boyfriend's lap facing him, looking at all of those butt plugs stuck everywhere and looking at his perfectly smooth forehead, a shiny bright light bulb went off in my head so I grabbed a plug, pulled it off of the wall, slammed it onto his forehead and said: "Look, you're a unicorn!"
He shot me the look and I almost peed myself laughing. But then I got another bright idea and stuck a plug to my forehead too and said: "Let's kiss, let's see how unicorns kiss!!!" And so we started poking each other's eyes out with those butt plugs trying to kiss and naturally that led to . . . an impromptu sword fight, duh. An impromptu butt plug sword fight and a full on butt plug fencing match. It was a lot of fun, I tell you, good clean butt plug fun. But then my boyfriend got an idea too and I must say it wasn't — unlike mine — the brightest: he yanked my plug off of my forehead with brute force and it made the loudest POP sound (at least is was loud as fuck in my head).
I swear, for a split second I thought he ripped my brain out of my scull with it, those butt plug suction thingies are strong, but I didn't let that brief moment of pain spoil all the unicorn fun. But then, minutes later, my boyfriend started laughing and pointing at my head: "Boo, what the fuck is that?! You have something . . . You should definitely check your forehead, babe." So I ran to grab a mirror and I honestly couldn't stop laughing when I saw that red throbbing circle in the middle off my forehead a. k. a. the butt plug injury. Don't believe me? Here's a picture.
When I eventually did stop laughing, the first thing that came from my mouth was: "FUCK. Richie is playing on Saturday!! I'm going to have to go out in public with this in the middle of my face!" But I still thought it was hilarious and there's no way I'd stay at home, not when RICHIE was playing.
In case you don't know who I'm talking about, let me clear it up for you: I'm talking about Richie Hawtin and you should definitely know who he is, if you've been here before since I've talked about him not once, not twice but seven times before, but let me write about him once more.
Richie Hawtin is a DJ (and that's a major understatement). He's someone whose music and career I've been following for years and I'd always wanted to meet him, ever since I first heard him live years ago and as it turned out, I did in fact meet him that very Saturday with that very bruise on my forehead. I had finally met the man after listening, reading and watching countless of his interviews, after traveling to various countries all across Europe to hear him play, after jamming my mp3 player with his sets and nothing but his sets. Watching him evolve and grow from playing at clubs like K4 (that probably means nothing to you if you aren't from Slovenia, but that's a club basically as big as your living room) to playing at major gigs like Burning Man and Time Warp as well as having his own Enter. night on Ibiza etc., etc., etc. has simply been — and I know that might sound cliché, but it's the fucking truth — inspiring. But did I tell him that, any of that? Pff, NO.
When my friend, to whom I'm forever grateful for making it all possible, said: "Richie, could you, please, take a picture with her? She's your biggest fan," I said (because I hate the term 'the biggest fan' in any context): "I'm actually not your biggest fan. See that guy there? He's my boyfriend, he's your biggest fan. When we're having sex, he's actually thinking of you."
Yup, that's what I said, I don't know why, but I did. Luckily, Richie was amused and my boyfriend loved the spot light so all was well. But then my boyfriend decided to return the favor and said: "Why don't you tell him how you got that circle on your forehead?"
We're kind of no-filter people, my boyfriend and I, but I was quite surprised that he brought that up, to tell you the truth. And I was even more surprised when I actually went on and told the butt plug unicorn sword fight story to Richie Hawtin and his entire crew. For a brief moment, I thought to myself: "Maybe that fifth glass of rum after that fourth glass of whiskey after that bottle of wine wasn't the best decision of my life, but hey, it is what it is." Fortunately, Mr Hawtin laughed (duh, he's a gentleman and that's what gentlemen are supposed to do when you talk about butt plugs and unicorns) and so did everybody else so again, all was well.
So, did I tell one of the most overall creative, insanely talented and immensely hardworking people I've ever met how fucking awesome I think he is? No. I talked about my boyfriend's sexual preferences, the hazardous aspects of sex toys and mythical creatures. Go me. But hey, I made the man laugh. How many Richie Hawtin's biggest fans can say that?
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