Two Black Rubber Fists

Late in the day yesterday my boss came into my office and asked me to take some pictures of our newest product.  I don’t usually talk about what it is I do here on the site but this picture is special enough that I thought I’d share.  Here’s a picture of my desk:

And now I’ll answer some obvious questions:

  1. Yes, those are dildos.
  2. Yes, they’re supposed to go inside someone.
  3. Yes, I work for a sex toy manufacturer.
  4. Yes, that’s a bottle of Purell hand sanitizer between the Diet Coke and the fist and yes, I use it every day.

Jesus, my desk is dusty.


Tim Hatch lives in a secret volcano headquarters somewhere in the South Pacific, where he controls the world economy and writes confessional poetry about his disappointing childhood.

His poetry has been published in MungBeing, East Jasmine Review, The Pacific Review, The Vehicle, Touch: The Journal Of Healing, Apeiron Review, and he is the recipient of the 2014 Felix Valdez Award.

He finds writing about himself in the third person to be an overtly seductive invitation to tell lies.

He once captured a French Eagle at Talavera.

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