I could crush your skull with the involuntary spasms of my uterus.
No, seriously, I think I could. I have never had cramps this bad. Ever. I know I say that every month; but that's because they actually keep getting worse.
Well, just now they're getting better because I took ibuprofen. About 1/2 hour ago, I couldn't even type. I was walking down the stairs, and my co-worker said, "Do you have a stiff neck? You look like you have a stiff neck," so I said, "No, I have cramps" and she made that "Oh, girlfriend, I KNOW" face; but the guy walking with her did the boy thing where he looked away in polite discomfort as if the blood might actually start shooting out of my pants and spraying over my head; and then I'd be standing there with my arms out (because of the shock) and blood exploding upwards from my pants in a vivid fan -- like in those paintings where Jesus is surrounded by the awesome light of God, except it'd be me instead of Jesus and uterine lining instead of glory.
I love both the University of Florida and the University of Alabama both too much to choose. Please, someone tell me that you've heard something awful about one of them so that I can make a good decision.
Speaking of poets: we're finally going to get an episode of Law and Order because a "Chicago poet [has been] seized as [a] fugitive killer". [Thanks to goldmouthscry for the heads up on the story.]
This entry has been brought to you by Benjamin's favorite menstrual euphemism: sloughin'.
EDIT:
Here is a different article from the Chicago Sun Times on the killer poet. I don't think you have to be registered to read this one. Sorry about that one up there. Stupid Chicago Tribune.
Well, just now they're getting better because I took ibuprofen. About 1/2 hour ago, I couldn't even type. I was walking down the stairs, and my co-worker said, "Do you have a stiff neck? You look like you have a stiff neck," so I said, "No, I have cramps" and she made that "Oh, girlfriend, I KNOW" face; but the guy walking with her did the boy thing where he looked away in polite discomfort as if the blood might actually start shooting out of my pants and spraying over my head; and then I'd be standing there with my arms out (because of the shock) and blood exploding upwards from my pants in a vivid fan -- like in those paintings where Jesus is surrounded by the awesome light of God, except it'd be me instead of Jesus and uterine lining instead of glory.
I love both the University of Florida and the University of Alabama both too much to choose. Please, someone tell me that you've heard something awful about one of them so that I can make a good decision.
Speaking of poets: we're finally going to get an episode of Law and Order because a "Chicago poet [has been] seized as [a] fugitive killer". [Thanks to goldmouthscry for the heads up on the story.]
This entry has been brought to you by Benjamin's favorite menstrual euphemism: sloughin'.
EDIT:
Here is a different article from the Chicago Sun Times on the killer poet. I don't think you have to be registered to read this one. Sorry about that one up there. Stupid Chicago Tribune.