I’m going to be completely honest with you. This post is a nightmare.

Late last night I got home from work and I was wicked tired you guys, and I’m fighting a cold, and all I wanted to do was go to sleep. I think Homeslice was already in bed, or on her way, when Mister stood over me while I was laying on our bed and he was all “Don’t accuse me of making this up because I didn’t, but…”

And I interrupted because I just. knew. he was working in yet another request for a blow job, I could just tell by the way he was looking at me, and so I was just like “WHAT? What is it this time?” And he was all “I read a study that said women who swallow semen are happier.  It also prevents preeclampsia.”  And then I was all “that’s nice.  You’re full of shit. I’m still not blowing you. I don’t give a fuck about preeclampsia, and I’d rather be sad.”  And he was all “that’s harsh.  Fine.  Don’t believe me, but I have the facts to prove it.” And I was all “only a bunch of horny science nerds would decide to do that study.  Who funds this shit anyway when there are people still dying of Cancer?” And he was all “maybe they discovered it by accident while looking for a cure for Cancer.  Don’t mock what you do not understand.”  And then the rest of the conversation is sort of a blur because I think I fell asleep.

No.  I’m sure.

I’m sure I fell asleep because this conversation wasn’t even interesting enough for me to stay awake long enough to find something to throw at his head.  Seriously, did he expect me to just be like “OMG! Who knew that all this time, happiness was just a cum shot, a gulp, and a shudder away?!?  Hot damn, boy!  Pull your pants down and give mama a little dose of happy!”

Go sell crazy somewhere else, Mister.

AnyCrissyabruptlychangesthesubjectbecausethiswaswayfunnierinherhead, so tonight is the night that we go to Boston to meet with Melissa LIIIOOOONNNNN and her Very Special Fancyhats!!!  I will be wearing a cute sweater dress, as will she, because apparently that’s what you wear when you meet other bloggers.  Melissa and I know this instinctively.  It’s what I wore last year when we met Chris and Ari and Dingo and Lauren except this year, I’m not knocked up so I can drink an inappropriate amount of wine and probably be Party Asshole.

I’ll keep you posted.

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posted by Crissy in About nothing, really and have Comments (26)