(I’m trying to think of a good name for you guys. Forgive me while I try a few things out.)
Anyhoot, Welcome to Crissy Wants Week!
We haven’t done a theme week in ages and it’s high time we get back in business around here. I want no more pussying around with random crap. We’re going to beat shit to death from now on.
Or at least for this week we will.
Crissy wants so many things, you guys.
So. Many. Things.
And today I would like to tell you about how Crissy wants Mister to stop embarrassing her in front of her friends because he’s always doing it and it drives her nuts.
For example, this weekend we were having a lovely time with the neighbors and having a few drinkies and ridiculing and laughing at our children enjoying watching our children play together when Mister comes running into the room with a packet of Gas-X and excitedly exclaims “Crissy! Look! I found more of your Gas-X! I knew you couldn’t have gone through that much of it already!”
Now you Intertubbies know that Crissy’s life is pretty much an open book, but seriously?
Do people need to know that Crissy gets The Gas sometimes?
Not The Farting, but The Gas.
Crissy is far too much the delicate flower to have The Farting.
It’s her fiber cereal that does it and by the end of the day it combines with her healthy vegetarian and fruititarian diet and it makes her tummy a little, ahem, ENORMOUS and she feels like she’s carrying a baby beluga in her belly and so she needs a little help to feel better.
But she doesn’t need Mister telling everyone about it.
He might as well have come running into the room with a box of this:
or a box of this
(Note to the Cybernets: Crissy has neither The Crotch Rot nor The Hemorrhoids. These products are merely examples of the kinds of things Mister might use to humiliate her in front of her friends.)
And while we’re at it, I would also like to request that Mister stop telling people things like, “Crissy isn’t feeling good today. She’s on her period.” or “Crissy can’t come to the phone right now, she’s taking a shadooie.” I just think the QOFE’s proper functions should be shared on a need to know basis only.
So that is my want for today and if Mister doesn’t lock it up, I’m going to be forced to tell the QUEEFS (OMFG!! I’m totally calling you guys QUEEFS from now on!) about how he likes to keep light bulbs and cans of soda and things up his bum.