Hello?

Anyone here?

It’s me, Rachel!  Mom in Real Life?

Oh there’s a note.

Dear Rachel,

Don’t touch anything and don’t open our bedroom closet!

Crissy

Hmmmmm

*opens up nicest box of wine and plops on sofa*

A girl could get used to this place.

Let’s see, what should I write about….let’s see what kind of a blogger is Crissy?

Oh god…..

Oh god!

*chugs another box of wine*

Well apparently I can say ANYTHING here.  What kind of story do I want to tell?  I’m going for one that I may not want told over at my blog/house

*cough* Hi Mom *cough*

Oh this is going to be fun….

I don’t like the word “cock”.  I don’t cock my guns/hat/eyebrows.  I call male chickens roosters.  And I call my husband’s unit “MINE”.

There are times though in my life that the word has come up, much to my discomfort.  Let me tell you about a few;

1) College, the BM years (that’s Before Marriage sickos….I heard you giggling Chris)

I was a sophomore in a co-ed dorm.  A group of us thought we were so cool with our 12 pack of wine coolers and we were living it up.  The guy I had a crush on brought his roommate, a short overgymed neanderthal.  After a while it became obvious that my crush was not crushing on me (OMG, LOSE-AR!) and that his quickly drunk roommate was.  I wanted to go back to my room upstairs but I couldn’t shake this troll off of my back.  Finally I gave up and let him follow me.  We started talking about music…for about 30 seconds, then he went in for the kill.  He commensed what he thought was “kissing” and I tried to politely reclaim my face.  I thought we were done when he stopped, but to my horror he only stopped to lean in and slur;

“Wanna see my cock?”

In slow motion I looked down, saw that he had decided to start without me….and then he licked my face.

Promptly I stood up, dumping him off my lap, and walked downstairs to where the “party” was still going on.  I casually strolled up to the now ex-crush and asked;

“How much porn does your roommate watch?”

“Tons, why?”

“He has something for you upstairs.”  Then I left to spend the night at my friend’s futon.

2) Marriage, the getting back on our feet years.

Dan and I had finally had enough of his parents and decided to move to Southern IL to get away from them.  I found a job bartending a month before Dan started his new job so I moved down ahead of him.  We only lived 4 hours (3 if you drive like me) apart and made it work.  To keep me company I brought my cats down with me.  Just recently I had gotten a new male cat that I named Miller and he quickly got used to being the man of the house.  He even got to sleep in bed with me.

Well when Dan finally moved downstate we discovered that I had created an alpha monster.  It only took two nights for Dan to get pissed.  I was woken up to quite the attitude at 2 am;

“That is it!”

“What is wrong Dan?”

“That damn cat!”

“……”

“After we fall asleep he crawls in between us and tries to push me out of the bed….with his CLAWS!”

“Well just push him back.”

“You know what he is trying to do, don’t you?”

“What honey….”

“He’s cock blocking me!!!!!!!”

*snarf*

“No really, he wants you all to himself!”

“What, you don’t want to share with him?”

“……”

“I’m sure we could manage it. How about he gets me during the week and you get me on the weekends?”

“Screw you, I’m sleeping on the couch.”

3) Marriage, trying to spice thing up years

Living in Southern IL didn’t leave you with much to do.  The night life was over by 1 am and all that was left was strip clubs and casinos.  I don’t gamble, soooooo……The most popular joint was Hustlers (Yes, the Larry Flynt place….see how classy my area was?).  Finally one night we decided to stroll over to the store section of the club.  Wangs wangs everywhere and plenty of anal props to keep.  I settled on something blue, sleek and that could make me sing like a choir boy.  It was like a member of the family.  The Christmas cards were interesting that year; me, Dan, two cats, a dog and my blue baller.

About that dog….it was special.  We had rescued it and after a while realized that the wiring wasn’t great in the head.  One day we had come back to the house and the dog TOOK OFF into the backyard.

“What’s up with her?”

We walked into our bedroom……

THE HORROR!  THE HORROR!

It was a massacre!  Bits of blue everywhere!  I felt light headed…..the motor sputtered, gasping in pain.  Dan walked up behind me;

“Well son of a bitch……”

“Daaaaaaannnnnnn what are we going to do?!”

“Um, say a prayer for the dog’s digestive track.”

“oh my baby, my poor sweet baby.”

“Let’s rename the dog!”

“Dan, how can you make jokes?”

“Please?”

“Fine, what do you want to name her?”

“COCK GOBBLER!”

To be honest, I’ve never seen him look prouder.

So there you go, my cock adventures.  Let’s never talk about it again.

Now let’s see what is in Crissy’s closet….

Is that a swing…..what would they do with a car battery…..a blender, really?

Hey she has a spare blue baller!

*walks off humming “Reunited”*

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• A Series of Unfortunate Events
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This entry was posted on Friday, August 8th, 2008 at 8:25 AM and is filed under About nothing, really. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.