Doubt that the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move his aides, Doubt truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love’

(Hamlet – Act 2, Scene 2)

 

I would not wish any companion in the world but you’

(The Tempest – Act 3, Scene 1)

 

‘I pray you; do not fall in love with me, For I am falser than vows made in wine’

(As You Like It – Act 3, Scene 5)

 

The Bard had it right more often than not, but even he (see above) was ambivalent when it came to that most powerfully volatile of human endeavors – LOVE. With Valentine’s Day around the corner and Fifty Shades Freed in a theatre near you, it’s high time to give some thought to L-O-V-E. Shakespeare has, Avijeet Das has:  

 

Love is a strange feeling! And you cannot understand what happens to you when it does happen to you.

 

But they, and a pantheon of writers, thinkers, philosophers, Philistines, and earnest blogsters (ahem) have struggled with the enigma since Eve and her one-and-only (not much of choice, eh?), Adam, introduced the fig leaf to haute couture. But (brace yourself) none of these brainy types, even the afore-mentioned blogster, seem to be able to decide just what the hell love is, or how we mere mortals are supposed to navigate our way through the emotional shoals of love, affection, desire, and yearning. 

 

When Horny.sg, asked for secret testers of a new Fifty Shades Freed products I jumped at the chance. 

 

 

If you’re looking for the answer in Fifty Shades Freed, save the price of admission. I mean, go for the romp, titillation, hand-holding and popcorn, but don’t expect any answers to this age-old conundrum. Christopher Orr (The Atlantic, 9 February, 2018) in an article subtitled, ‘Another sequel so awful that it needs to be described in detail to be believed,’ points out that he only went because he was assigned to, and he got paid.

 

So, it’s verified – love cannot be defined or understood. We poor slobs are destined to fall in and out of it for the duration of this mortal coil. So why  try? Instead, let’s talk about love’s first cousin, pleasure!

 

All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn’t hurt.

Charles Schulz

 

With a remarkably ungainly name, the Fifty Shades Freed My Body Blooms Rechargeable Remote Control Vibrator (I’m not kidding! F.S.F.M.B.B.R.R.C.V.) promises pleasure in a smooth, compact package. Unlike troublesome love, this gadget is USB rechargeable, remotely controlled, and tucks into custom-built frilly panties. Take that, Shakespeare. Watch this, Avitjeet Das – https://youtu.be/KZ2JYbc5xW0

 

Do love and pleasure go hand-in-hand or ***-in-***? You decide, but the F.S.F.M.B.B.R.R.C.V. provides a most pleasing sensation on the way to philosophical wisdom. No prudish blogster, I will, nonetheless save the the intimate blow-by-blow (unavoidable, these double entendres) experience for another day. Suffice it to say that the device boasts ‘8 patterns and 12 speeds of customized stimulation.’ Let your imagination run wild. I let my imagination run wild. I used every permutation the remote control had to offer. I liked the scanty black panties with their convenient pouch. Should I tire of the style, I’m sure other scanties could be found to accommodate the F.S.F.M.B.B.R.R.C.V. and hold it snugly in the proverbial ‘zone’. Black would be perfectly appropriate for Valentine’s Day, but so would red, pink, or beige. Not beige. I’m talking pleasure, stimulation, fulfillment. Dump the beige. 

 

 

I told myself I wouldn’t use the phrase ‘Knicker Kicker’ when extolling the virtues of the F.S.F.M.B.B.R.R.C.V. Alas, I must. With my permission, use it on the gift tag. Urge others to do so. It neatly encapsulates my little round pal’s technical virtues.  In private moments, you might even find yourself quoting P.G. Wodehouse to your Remote Control Rechargeable Vibrator, 

 

If you haven’t realized by this time that I love you, and always shall love you, and have never loved anybody else, and never shall love anybody else, you’re a fathead.

 

 Enjoy!

 

I did.

 

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