I didn't know my ass could get stressed out
I got a full-body massage today. Everything but my nipples and special place. It was fantastic. I feel all squashy now. I really, really want to be rich some day so I can get those weekly. That must be nice.
Vacation is already almost over. Besides getting oiled and rubbed down I didn't really do much, just relaxed and read and slept and shopped. Saw "Girl with a pearl earring." Made me want to have sex. But then, apart from spending time with my parents and other family, what doesn't?
Apparently Sam bought me something small and Parisean. V. much looking forward to him coming home. Only two and a half more months... In the meantime, my hall is willing to pitch in for a vibrator for me. I, however, think maybe not.
My mother has pet ladybugs. Seriously. She bought them for some plant purpose or other, but now she watches them and reports their cute ladybug activities. I love my mom. She's cute and awesome. Kinda crazy. So now our house has the pet history as follows: crazy kitten picked up on the highway on my parents' honeymoon, brought home via motorcycle; cat that chased a german shepherd out of our yard; two baby squirrels, named Woody and Nuts; nameless, deaf, stupid, mal-aligned white cat with Breath of Death, couldn't walk in a straight line; guinea pig that mowed our lawn; mouse that ate itself to death; baby chick that grew up to be an uncle-biting cock, got thrown over fence at Brooksby Farm in the dead of night; incestuous lesbian rabbits; and ladybug circus. My house rules.
The best thing I've heard all week was, "We need waffles forthwith!"
Vacation is already almost over. Besides getting oiled and rubbed down I didn't really do much, just relaxed and read and slept and shopped. Saw "Girl with a pearl earring." Made me want to have sex. But then, apart from spending time with my parents and other family, what doesn't?
Apparently Sam bought me something small and Parisean. V. much looking forward to him coming home. Only two and a half more months... In the meantime, my hall is willing to pitch in for a vibrator for me. I, however, think maybe not.
My mother has pet ladybugs. Seriously. She bought them for some plant purpose or other, but now she watches them and reports their cute ladybug activities. I love my mom. She's cute and awesome. Kinda crazy. So now our house has the pet history as follows: crazy kitten picked up on the highway on my parents' honeymoon, brought home via motorcycle; cat that chased a german shepherd out of our yard; two baby squirrels, named Woody and Nuts; nameless, deaf, stupid, mal-aligned white cat with Breath of Death, couldn't walk in a straight line; guinea pig that mowed our lawn; mouse that ate itself to death; baby chick that grew up to be an uncle-biting cock, got thrown over fence at Brooksby Farm in the dead of night; incestuous lesbian rabbits; and ladybug circus. My house rules.
The best thing I've heard all week was, "We need waffles forthwith!"