Morning Queefs and Queefettes!
How was your Thanksgiving? I gained two pounds. Yay.
Clearly, the stench of rotting mouse did not deter me whatsoever.
That’s pretty much what I’ve looked like every second of every day for the past four days. I have no idea why I gained weight.
My brother was around this year, so that was good.
That’s a picture of him right there. Also, my mother’s head.
Here’s me touching Melissa Lion’s ass (for those of you who maybe thought I was lying about it–oh ye of little faith).
We’re cute in our matching outfits, yes?
And that about sums up the weekend. It was eventful as hell.
And today is our 7 year wedding anniversary.
This is the only picture I have for you. It’s from the reject pile so naturally, it’s the only one Mister scanned into the computer. I do not know why. His mind is a mystery wrapped in a conundrum surrounded by a haze of pot smoke and Valium or whatever.
And to celebrate, Mister is staying home to take care of the little children because I’m sick. I’m always sick at this time of year. I was sick on our wedding night and the day after, when we left for our honeymoon, I had some sort of monkey disease and The Bloods and all I wanted to do was sleep, but it was 13 degrees in New York City and so MISTER MADE ME WALK EVERYWHERE in the freezing cold while I died to death of monkey flu and The Bloods. We had a huge fight at the top of the Empire State Building and I really, really, wanted to push him off the edge but there’s a fucking huge ass fence there. He got lucky.
I’m going back to bed.
PS: Happy Anniversary Mister! I’m glad I didn’t push you off the Empire State Building.
PSS: How awesome would the end of Sleepless in Seattle be if the little kid threw the lady over the edge? I should write movies, I swear it.