After reading Hillbilly Queen’s post in
this thread, I got to thinking - if you should unexpectedly drop dead tomorrow, what, if anything, would you be embarrassed to be found in your personal belongings by a family member or friend?
I guess in my case it would be a big ol’ vibrator.
Oh, and I hope no-one reads my journals!
Probably my collection of Oded Fehr pictures on my computer. My BF already knows about them (I think, he uses this computer too) and he let me stick an Oded Fehr magnet on the refrigerator, but if anyone else found them, I’d be embarrassed.
The balance in my check book.
#1 reason why I can’t die yet.
As for the porn. Well the only thing I ever really enjoyed on The Man Show was their bit on a service that, the moment you died, would rush into your place and replace all porn objects with innocent things. But I think I’d survive, dead or not.
That’s a good question…
I really don’t own any porn or drug paraphernalia and my computer is completely clean of anything x-rated so there isn’t anything to worry about there. I own a few movies that I might be a bit embaressed about (The Princess Diaries, All the Pretty Horses) and some CD’s as well (my Celine Dion Collection) but that’s about all.
I guess the biggest thing would be my journal. It’s on my computer and someone would have to do a bit of searching to find it but it’s not like it’s password protected or anything. I’d be mortified if anybody ever read it.
Why are people afraid of having their journals found? If you’re dead does it even matter? What’s the point of writing a journal if you don’t want anyone else to ever read it, even if it’s after you’re gone?
I write for me, no-one else.
Just becuz I’m dead doesn’t give someone the right to invade my privacy.
Oh, and btw - I LOVE Bottle Rocket.
My massive collection of personal memorabilia: cards, ID bracelets, concert ticket stubs, pamphlets, invitations movie tickets, drink bottle labels, boarding passes, etc.
I’d be mortified if anyone discovered I was a sentimental softy.
All of my dirty laundry that I have scattered about my apartment.
Butt plugs. Definitely butt plugs.
Oded Fehr gallery. Nothing bad, he’s sexy.
My “objects of shame” would be the dildos, butt plugs, cock rings and gay porn DVDs I keep stashed under my bed. The jar full of condoms and the three bottles of lube would no doubt raise an eyebrow or two as well.
Don’t think I’d want my parents to find the Zippo lighter, carton of Marlboros and the big box of cigars, either. If they found out that I smoke, they’d be absolutely mortified.
My laptop already has my best friend’s name on it, should the worst ever happen. Although none of the files and folders contain anything objectionable as such, I still wouldn’t want my family sifting through them. Besides which, he’d have more use for it than they would, so it makes sense that it would go to him.
I have written about 20 short stories in the past few years. No one has ever read them but me. Some are funny, some are sad, all could be read to children. But I don’t think of myself as much of the literary type.
Plus I have a pair of manties.
I wouldn’t want any of my relatives to discover my user name on here.
And, the big ol’ vibrator.
When I was still living in a dorm, I got very sick over the Christmas break & was unable to return to school, so my folks had to clean out my room. Of course, when I left, I thought I’d be coming back. Hence, I made no effort to conceal the play handcuffs, condoms, cherry-flavored lube, & cat o’ nine.
Yick. I pretended that the cat o’nine & cuffs were part of a Halloween costume that I was holding for a friend whose parents had come to visit, & that the condoms & lube were hers as well. My folks pretended that they believed me, & that was that.
Laughs at Cosmopolitan
Sorry, that was just too funny… dissolves into giggles
Finds out what “manties” are, and laughs even harder
I don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, aside from some stories I wrote waaaay back when I was a kid, and Mom’s already seen those and showed them to all her friends… So I suppose I’ve already used up my quota of embarrassment for those.
Argh, that should be “Cosmopolitan’s story”. Preview is my friend. :smack: