Yankee Doodle Dirrrr-tay

Guess, JUST GUESS, what came in the mail the other day?



Awwww, yeah. You know you wanted more.

(In case you missed them, previous installments of my obsessive VCS fascination can be found here and here. And please understand I'm using the term "missed" very, very loosely.)

As I perused the pages of everyone's favorite Yankee catalog, I was delighted to discover the usual suspects, just in time for spring and summer. You have your tasteful, truly exhaustive assortment of muumuus, caftans, and muumuu-caftans...



...and your cotton denim everything...



...including giant culottes...



....cut to flatter(!), not to mention...



...your apple cider-flavored Vim and Vigor Tonic...



...and Lobster Newburg. IN A CAN. What's that? Not in the mood for canned chipped seafood in a cream sauce? Perhaps something darker, something spicier...



...something like every kind of black licorice under Creation, including the deeply sinister-sounding "Sen-Sen." (Candy treat, penitentiary, or opiate?)

And then you have...



...um....



...hello? Did I miss something?

Apparently, not satisfied with simply dominating the antique hair appliance and top-shelf maple syrup markets, the Vermont Country Store has strategically branched out into "Intimate Solutions."



For the "next stage in your life." Yes.

Right.

Not that there's anything wrong with that. I am absolutely all for healthy, geriatric bedroom endeavors and believe that human sexuality is lovely and natural and normal in its myriad shapes and sizes and, listen: if a 98-year-old man can run for president, surely he can enthusiastically knock boots, too. Senator, your body is a wonderland and so on and so forth.

Still, though I'm really trying to be cool about the whole thing, I must admit to being somewhat scandalized by the Massaging Bath Pillow (With Surprise Inside) and the Ergonomic Lover Cushion and the Antibacterial Undercarriage Spray. But not because I'm a prude! No, I was just disoriented by all the support hose and foot cream and spearmint licorice and lulled into a naive sense of security. Because when I'm shopping for old-fashioned spearmint licorice...



...I'm not really expecting colorful vibrator assortments and tingly lube.



Needless to say, my once-chaste love affair with the The Vermont Country Store just got a little naughtier, but I'm being completely cool about it. Mature, even. And I'm just letting it go. I could make some stupid joke like, "I guess Vermont really is for lovers," or "They're really putting the yank in Yankee," but I would never say those things.

Because I am Up With The Elderly, Their Bodies, Themselves. I am cool and well-adjusted. I am progressive and open-minded.

And, more than anything, I understand referral stats and know that, when it comes to the Internet, there is no such thing as a discreet delight.
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