The Chicago Episodes

Our lovely ladies find themselves separated in the greater Vagina region – not be confused with West Vagina where we found the place all the runaway teeth escape to.

The Goddess, GIT & TIG (Training in Goddesses) found themselves embarking on a windy journey to Chicago. Due to a scheduling mishap (the Goddess was showing the travel agent how she herself could become a Goddess – under her desk).

So while others meandered their way home from another glorious night binge drinking and binge shagging, GIT found herself waking to begin her journey at the ungodly hour of 3:00 AM.
Amazingly, GIT boarded the plane on time – with the help of the lady next to her telling her about last call (When did they call 1st call??!!??). Fairy godmutha was watching over her…to her delight – exit row seating!!! Greetings to her seatmate, perfunctory picture of Carebear with Sylvia Plath and off to the land of Nod.
Sometime between Nod & the plane’s descent into Chicago, a demon crawled into the seatmate’s mouth. Polite conversation had to be ceased immediately when the green fumes escaped his mouth and bitch slapped GIT. Luckily the plane’s vomit bags did not have to be used and the rest of the arrival went without a hazard.
Adventurous train ride later, GIT turned left out of the station in search of her lodging. Everyone in Chicago decided at that moment to be in Starbucks…45 minutes later GIT was ready to continue her search. Asking for directions (as any smart chick does) she found out that a right turn out of the station would have led her directly to the steps of her lodging…sigh.

Back in the greater Vagina region, the Goddess arrived at the airport with her sturdy, single carry-on bag – ingenious packing put all her training outfits, party outfits, casual outfits, and cowboy boots in a beautiful pouch casually tossed over her shoulder. There was chaos at the entrance to the airport as TIG assigned one porter to each of her bags…the other morning passengers were left to their own devices as TIG commandeered all available assistance. Passing through the security screening was another moment in chaos as TIG apparently had some type of metallic device upon her body. After taking off earrings, her belt, her watch, her necklace, the shirt with the metal buttons, the bra with the metal underwire, the pants with the metal beading…the airport staff was left scratching their heads. On assurance from the Goddess that TIG was not in any way a terrorist (she has those kinds of powers); they were able to continue their journey…mystery unsolved to all but TIG. (Her Valentine’s gift from Ray-ke was tucked in her “special place” – the NPR-synched battery operated girlfriend).

The Goddess, TIG & their entourage amassed upon the gate to find Mother Nature is forcing them to practice patience. Left to her own laurels, TIG went on a mission to find the ratio of NPR listeners vs. general uninformed people amongst the waiting passengers. The Goddess was holding court among the bevy of ladies, “interviewing”. Contests of intelligence, conversation skills & abilities to unravel a Twizzler without using hands ensued. Down to the last few contestents, the Goddess was looking forward to discovering latent Twizzler skills when, alas, they were called to board. Upon promise of continued contests, the Goddess unraveled herself from her ladies. TIG had to be released from the NPR goddess whose lap she found great company on. The dance of storing carry on, finding the seat & putting on those lovely seatbelts began. Once settled, a seductive voice came over the intercom…it was the very sexy pilot of the plane informing the passengers that they were 3rd in line for take off. A collection of googly eyes washed over the high number of lesbian passengers that were on this particular plane. A plane ride with that voice would be pleasure indeed. Upon almost reaching the taxi point, the sexy voice came on the intercom again to inform all of mechanical difficulties. That being the official story, the passengers were unaware of the antics of TIG…apparently she fell into the bathroom stall with the very sultry flight attendant and the motion of rocking the plane threw off the landing gear.

Not to waste time, the Goddess returned to the delight of her ladies and continued the contests.
Back in the Windy city, GIT was meandering the streets while she awaited the arrival of the others. She became one with Jane Addams at the Hull House, hooked up that night’s dinner at the pizza joint and found a new BFF in the jazz singer hanging out at the sandwich shop.
Back again at the airport, The Goddess was holding council among her bevy of ladies, TIG was fast asleep in her NPR goddess’ lap….the final announcement came across the system – apparently Mother Nature deemed it would NOT be a flying day and the ladies were grounded. News was sent to GIT…Chicago would have to be taken over by her alone since the cohorts could not fly out until Monday.

:::Scene Change:::

Back in the OV, Ray-Ke was having a night in with Plays With Storm. Riveting TV was on the schedule…The Biggest Loser. There is only one way to watch the excitement unfold…with a big plate of chicken wings. A heated debate ensued over the correct sports bra to wear to prevent spillage of the very endowed ladies on the show. Ray-Ke was determined to not lose this righteous debate; it turned into a battle of wills with a tickling contest. Screams were interlaced with laughter as the floor became the battle ground…until a noise stopped the battle mid-fight. Was there a ghost on the stairs? There were squeaking sounds that were reminiscent of steps on the loose stair board…
Was her new house haunted? Silence permeated the house as they waited with bated breath…Oh No! there is was again…the sound coming closer and closer to the former battleground now shag covered carpet. Ray-Ke moved closer to Plays with Storm…to protect her of course. The sound was right there upon them…What could it be? Ray-Ke moved even closer…and they noticed the sound was coming from within her shirt. WTF? Is the ghost coming to take over her spirit? Moving even closer to Plays with Storm, they noticed that hm….the sound is perhaps not a ghost. Apparently Ray-Ke had gone shopping at Victoria’s Secret earlier that day to purchase lovely seductive bras for her night of TV watching. The squeaking noise was apparently this new bra…she laughed at the realization…which made the bra squeak even more, which created more laughter…and more squeaking…until Ray-Ke & Plays with Storm were doubled over in mirth.