Remember how I told you my dog leaves the room when we have sex. I came home from brunch on Sunday and found this:
Sex book in dog bed. I don't get it. Does this mean he likes sex now, is he curious, do we need to have "the talk". And why did he have to chew it?
Speaking of that particular dog, TH claims I've forced the dog into gaydom because I insisted we have him neutered - the dog....not TH. I have never understood why men automatically think there is some sort of cosmic connection between their balls and the dogs balls. One has nothing to do with the other.
The worst dressed woman in the world works at the office building next to mine. Every day, at exactly 12:15, she walks out to her car for lunch. Yesterday she was wearing a jean vest. A JEAN VEST, people! Those went out of style in the mid-90's. Fancy Pants and I have considered contacting "What Not To Wear" and nominating that office. They are a faux pas nightmare!!
I have a blister the size of a golf ball next to my pinkie toe thanks to that damn dance class. My toe swelled up to the size of a small sausage and none of my shoes would fit. I performed redneck surgery on it last night in the bathroom with a needle, antibacterial spray and and Neosporin. Today, it's down to hot dog size. Stay tuned.
If there is a naked woman walking around the gym locker room I'm gonna stare at her. I can't help it. It has nothing to do with lesbianism and everything to do with someone being naked infront of me. I've tried and I just can't stop myself.
Have you ever been terrified, infuriated, embarrassed, exhausted, disappointed, sad and indifferent all at the same time? That is how I feel today. It's making my brain hurt.
TH has to go away for the weekend and I'm already wondering what the hell I'm gonna do with myself. (notice I said "do with myself" and not "do to myself". We all know what I'll be doing "to" myself). Most people are excited when their spouses leave for a few days. I hate it. Time to break out the Sybian.
That's random wrap, lovers.