Sunday, September 12, 2010

A Bathtub, A Box of Wine, and A Pinata Pussy

Ok kids, it's that time of the week.....



The Spawn of Satan is working on getting his drivers license. He had a lesson with his instructor yesterday. The guy said the SoS is a very nervous driver. Maybe I should quit reciting "The Lords Prayer" every time I ride shotgun.

Oh, and it's probably not helpful to keep hanging my damn head out of the window screaming at bystanders that "HE'S GOING TO KILL US ALL!!!" Whatever.

The Master of Destruction spilled his chocolate milk on the dog. Poor dog looked at me with sad eyes and began licking his raisin sac where his berries use to be. I think he is plotting our demise.

My feet smell like play dough. What the hell is that about?

The Duke comes up and says, "You're like a sex pinata, I'm going to beat you with my stick until candy comes out." That hit me like a ton of you've got to be shitting me bricks. No woman would be immune to that kind of sweet talk, huh?

"I have an idea" If you're with me and you ever hear me say that, hit me over the fucking head with the nearest heavy object and subdue my ass by any means necessary. Nothing good ever comes of my ideas.

"Trust me." If you're ever with me and I say that, run for your goddamn life. Scream for good measure.

I showed the MoD how a Slip -n -Slide works today. Maybe I should have just swallowed my fucking pride and listened to the Duke. He was listing all of the dumbass reasons that pudgy, middle-aged people should never try to propel themselves down a slicked tarp in broad daylight.
With a defiant look, I lined up my intended path, lowered my head and ran (ran! with running! Look, Ma, no fucking brains!) forward to the slide. I stepped three paces onto the slide of death and launched myself forward.

The only problem was that I never quite got down low enough to move forward. Instead, I dove into thin air, hovered long enough to squawk and realize that this shit was going to fucking hurt like hell and then I dropped like a goddamn rock onto the mat. The air whooshed out of me and the MoD doubled over in hysterics.

I gingerly felt for broken ribs and tried to roll over. I had grass up my fucking nose. I laid on my back, panting, and the Duke stood over me with a disgusted look on his face. "It's not even worth saying 'I told you so.'

Fucking asshat better put away his stick. There will be no pinata pussy tonight.



8 comments:

  1. Oh yeah. I would have broke his pinata stick!

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  2. I laughed so hard at the slip-n-slide story. Mastering the damn thing is actually on my bucket list. I can never fund the courage to properly propel my self down the fucking thing.

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  3. I'm so going to use what the Duke said to you the next time I go out to some random chick. It sure beats me saying don't make me turn this rape into a murder

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  4. First,...I have a problem. My husband is calling me Dutchess now. I don't know why. I even pointed out to him that I am a wench, not a Dutchess. What should I do so as not to offend you?
    "hovered long enough to squawk" and "grass up my fucking nose." Honest to God, I do so love you.

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  5. Dame Amy, broken isn't good either.

    Ange, here is to defeating the Slip N Slide

    Wolf, let me know how that works for ya, sugar.

    Middle, Just tell him if he is going to call you Dutchess, he must treat you as one. Then show him my alcohol and shoe allowance. When he comes to, he will never call you that again.

    Lass, and he did. lol

    McKenzie, thank you

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