(no subject)
Holy shit that was a WEEKEND! Sorry, but I'm so tired I just wrote that I was tried and that makes me extra PUNCHY which makes me YELL AT PEOPLE. But. You know. Relatively quietly so you'll adapt.
Friday night Fratboy came home IN UNIFORM, which he never ever does for 'security reasons', 'don't want bad guys following him home', 'keep the kids alive', blah blah blah. What the shit is the point of being married to a cop if he's not going to come home and fulfil all those authority figure fantasies IN UNIFORM goddammit? And just to prove my husband hates me more than anyone he came home IN UNIFORM only long enough to mention the Skinny Puppy show he wanted to go to and clearly I deserve a FUCKING MEDAL because he then had to leave right away IN UNIFORM without even boning me and I let him live.
I even let him sleep in on Saturday.
I know...TOTAL HUMANITARIAN RIGHT?!
Oh. Wait. I haven't posted here in a week. Okay well Tuesday thru Thursday were work, wrassle babies, hang with Kneegs, bone very quietly in a dignified manner certainly nowhere near ON Kneegs, work, wrassle babies, hang with Kneegs, bone very quietly in a dignified manner certainly nowhere near ON Kneegs, etc. There now you're all caught up.
Saturday was a flurry of meal planning, grocery shopping and insane cleaning cuz my folks were coming to tear my bedroom apart on Sunday so clearly the thing to do before your house gets completely demolished with dust and drywall bits and various renovations sundry is to scrub it all spotless so your mama doesn't think you're a shitty housekeeper. Even when you totally are. ESPECIALLY when you totally are. I worked myself into such an exhausted stupor I totally passed out with the boys at naptime. When I woke up we still had to move shit and shower and prettify and wrap presents and do a whole lot of stuff at once for both Poland's wedding and the parental invasion which might have inadvertantly lead me to being a giant stressy cunt to Fratboy which he totally made me pay for later which I so do NOT understand cuz now I just want to be even cuntIER which I don't think is quite what he had in mind but I sure as shit am not complaining.
Breathe.
Right, so then we went to Polandia's wedding reception and I could say a whole lot of beautiful and romantical things about True Love and how happy she is and blah blah blah. The truth is I could not stop staring at her boobs. She had one of the finest racks known to man to begin with and this baby making stuff has literally DOUBLED their size and I followed her around like a slack jawed retard mesmerized by her boobs.
Me: Anita's tits, what??
Fratboy: Do. You. Want. A. Drink??
Me: Oh.
Me: Anita's cans, what??
Fratboy: Do. You. Want. To. Dance??
Me: Oh.
I have a ton of pix I have not yet had time to sort through and resize so hopefully by then I can form some form of coherent, proper, dignified thought (as befits her proper, dignified married friend, HA) and so expect a smooshy pic filled post sometime soon.
Sunday was of course the parental invasion, it was also Kay's goddaughter's moving day and so there was a lot of juggling and running around and insanity. Other than when I was driving the van I did not sit down from the horrendous 6am wake up call my vindictive small people inflicted on me until about 11 at night. Renovations are killer messy and inconvenient and expensive and my folks are doing it for us for free so I'm jumping through hoops of retardation cooking them elaborate lunches and dinners and baking treats and cookies on top of the baby wrangling and laundry and dishes and everything else that needs to be done.
Anyway by the time we went to bed I was just so done with that fucking bedroom that I did not want to talk about it anymore. I mean. You know. Totally after I harrassed Fratboy about every single possibility and option and decision. But AFTER THAT I was totally over it and didn't care if he painted the damn room purple with orange polk dots any more. But marriage is fun because of course by then I'd harrassed him to the point that he wasn't going to let me be over it OR go to sleep and so in desperation I was all 'wow, this bra is totally itchy' and whipped my shirt and bra off and jiggled my boobs at him at bit. Which, honestly, I was so NOT expecting to work cuz HAI we've been married for 5 years and my boobs can't possibly be the thrill they once were after all this time.
Except then it totally DID work and I was literally DRUNK ON MY OWN BOOBIE POWER afterwards and for the better part of today. How have I gone 29 whole years not realizing that I can get anything I want anytime I want it using my boobs alone? My boobs are HERCULEAN! I was both awed and inspired by how easy that was then...
Huh.
That was a little too easy wasn't it? And so I had to ponder for a while which is more likely? That my boobs are so powerful they can stop strong, grown, copmen dead in their tracks and make them forget whatever bone they were chewing on and couldn't let go of?
Or.
That this has all been an elaborate ruse on Fratboy's part to come up with a way to get me to whip off my clothes and jiggle my boobies at him whenever he wants? And that I finally fell for it??
And then Kneegs just texted me with "Your mom and frattie just got back from rona and apparently the found some swanky mirrored doors for the closet". And all I could hear was him going on and on and ON about how tacky mirrored doors are and how he couldn't even consider that as an option and...
Dammit.
Friday night Fratboy came home IN UNIFORM, which he never ever does for 'security reasons', 'don't want bad guys following him home', 'keep the kids alive', blah blah blah. What the shit is the point of being married to a cop if he's not going to come home and fulfil all those authority figure fantasies IN UNIFORM goddammit? And just to prove my husband hates me more than anyone he came home IN UNIFORM only long enough to mention the Skinny Puppy show he wanted to go to and clearly I deserve a FUCKING MEDAL because he then had to leave right away IN UNIFORM without even boning me and I let him live.
I even let him sleep in on Saturday.
I know...TOTAL HUMANITARIAN RIGHT?!
Oh. Wait. I haven't posted here in a week. Okay well Tuesday thru Thursday were work, wrassle babies, hang with Kneegs, bone very quietly in a dignified manner certainly nowhere near ON Kneegs, work, wrassle babies, hang with Kneegs, bone very quietly in a dignified manner certainly nowhere near ON Kneegs, etc. There now you're all caught up.
Saturday was a flurry of meal planning, grocery shopping and insane cleaning cuz my folks were coming to tear my bedroom apart on Sunday so clearly the thing to do before your house gets completely demolished with dust and drywall bits and various renovations sundry is to scrub it all spotless so your mama doesn't think you're a shitty housekeeper. Even when you totally are. ESPECIALLY when you totally are. I worked myself into such an exhausted stupor I totally passed out with the boys at naptime. When I woke up we still had to move shit and shower and prettify and wrap presents and do a whole lot of stuff at once for both Poland's wedding and the parental invasion which might have inadvertantly lead me to being a giant stressy cunt to Fratboy which he totally made me pay for later which I so do NOT understand cuz now I just want to be even cuntIER which I don't think is quite what he had in mind but I sure as shit am not complaining.
Breathe.
Right, so then we went to Polandia's wedding reception and I could say a whole lot of beautiful and romantical things about True Love and how happy she is and blah blah blah. The truth is I could not stop staring at her boobs. She had one of the finest racks known to man to begin with and this baby making stuff has literally DOUBLED their size and I followed her around like a slack jawed retard mesmerized by her boobs.
Me: Anita's tits, what??
Fratboy: Do. You. Want. A. Drink??
Me: Oh.
Me: Anita's cans, what??
Fratboy: Do. You. Want. To. Dance??
Me: Oh.
I have a ton of pix I have not yet had time to sort through and resize so hopefully by then I can form some form of coherent, proper, dignified thought (as befits her proper, dignified married friend, HA) and so expect a smooshy pic filled post sometime soon.
Sunday was of course the parental invasion, it was also Kay's goddaughter's moving day and so there was a lot of juggling and running around and insanity. Other than when I was driving the van I did not sit down from the horrendous 6am wake up call my vindictive small people inflicted on me until about 11 at night. Renovations are killer messy and inconvenient and expensive and my folks are doing it for us for free so I'm jumping through hoops of retardation cooking them elaborate lunches and dinners and baking treats and cookies on top of the baby wrangling and laundry and dishes and everything else that needs to be done.
Anyway by the time we went to bed I was just so done with that fucking bedroom that I did not want to talk about it anymore. I mean. You know. Totally after I harrassed Fratboy about every single possibility and option and decision. But AFTER THAT I was totally over it and didn't care if he painted the damn room purple with orange polk dots any more. But marriage is fun because of course by then I'd harrassed him to the point that he wasn't going to let me be over it OR go to sleep and so in desperation I was all 'wow, this bra is totally itchy' and whipped my shirt and bra off and jiggled my boobs at him at bit. Which, honestly, I was so NOT expecting to work cuz HAI we've been married for 5 years and my boobs can't possibly be the thrill they once were after all this time.
Except then it totally DID work and I was literally DRUNK ON MY OWN BOOBIE POWER afterwards and for the better part of today. How have I gone 29 whole years not realizing that I can get anything I want anytime I want it using my boobs alone? My boobs are HERCULEAN! I was both awed and inspired by how easy that was then...
Huh.
That was a little too easy wasn't it? And so I had to ponder for a while which is more likely? That my boobs are so powerful they can stop strong, grown, copmen dead in their tracks and make them forget whatever bone they were chewing on and couldn't let go of?
Or.
That this has all been an elaborate ruse on Fratboy's part to come up with a way to get me to whip off my clothes and jiggle my boobies at him whenever he wants? And that I finally fell for it??
And then Kneegs just texted me with "Your mom and frattie just got back from rona and apparently the found some swanky mirrored doors for the closet". And all I could hear was him going on and on and ON about how tacky mirrored doors are and how he couldn't even consider that as an option and...
Dammit.