OK, before I tell you the Poopy story I have to come up with a name for this guy. So if y'all want to hear the story about how I got the nickname Poopy then you need to help.
Here are some interesting facts. Put your suggestions in the comments.
We met in a bar. He saved me from a scary drunk guy who was mauling me
He looks 24 but is actually coming up on 40
He has a sense of humor just as twisted as mine
His last name is a form of GIANT COCK
He tried to make me wear a Cowboys jersy just to make me squirm (even though he hates the team)
He has this secret sweet/romantic side that keeps popping up and surprising the crap out of me.
So, what do you all think? And no, I'm not going to call him GiantCock. You must be more creative than that.
Some of you might be operating under the misconception that living the life of Sassy is all glamore and crazy hot sex. Sadly, today I'm here to set the record straight. Officially, I do more than just have crazy hot sex and it's not always glamorous.
Exhibit 1- Not sex and not glamorous The House of Sass has been under a severe financial crunch of late. Ok, Ok, fine, that's complete crap. We've been in a fucking financial catastrophe and it has robbed me of my sanity, my smile, my sleep and my sassitude. In short, I have been in a very dark bad place. I won't be shitting rainbows but things will get better soon. I had to burn my pride at the stake and go to my parents for a loan. They generously agreed to help. They assured me that I'm not a failure and that the economy is telling everyone to grab their ankles in one form or another. Things are still going to be tight but I will at least be making ends meet and I'm going to allow myself to be proud of that.
Exhibit 2- About sex (sorta) but definitely not glamorous or hot. No, definitely NOT HOT! My parents came over for dinner last night and somehow the conversation went from hemorrhoids to anal sex. I had a conversation with my parents and my children at my dinner table, while eating cherry pie, about double dipping. Y'all are dying for an invitation to my house now, aren't you? While the talk was disturbing, my mother's facial expressions were down right horrifying. Every time a conversation comes up about things related to the arse, the bung hole, the sphincter, the crapper, my mom makes a face. It's a fish face. But, BUTT... . Please note the pen. I cannot cross my eyes without help and even then the results are rather sucktastic. That either means I'm brilliant or a complete fucking moron. I'm not sure which.
As a parent, one of my primary duties it to teach the Things how to make good decisions. Unfortunately it's not always easy for them, or for me.
My favorite comedian, Stephen Lynch, is in Milwaukee next weekend. I desperately wanted to go but my entertainment budget would not allow it. Last night I got a phone call from LawnBoy saying he had scored tickets and wanted to take me, JustAsFriends. And let me tell you, I was so damn excited. WooHoo, all I needed to do was convince my mom to watch the Things and I was set.
When I mentioned the tickets to Ex he gave me the AreYouOutOfYourFuckingMind look. And as he repeated the situation back to me, slowly, so my giddy woohoo saturated brain could comprehend, I realized he might be right. LawnBoy has not had much success with JustAsFriends in the past. Going to Milwaukee for the show was probably not a good idea (or quite possibly a very bad idea). I don't want to give LawnBoy mixed signals. That's not fair to him. And the last thing I want to do is make Buffett uncomfortable. So, I made up my mind not to go.
A little later I pulled into Buffett's driveway and reality smacked me upside the head. Even if Ex hadn't said a word, despite the fact that it really would have been nothing, I just couldn't do that to Buffett. As I was getting ready to leave Buffett's house I discovered a text from LawnBoy saying that if I changed my mind he had reserved a hotel room with a jacuzzi. OMG and HolyCrap!
So, I'm definitely not going and that's OK. I still have YouTube. NOT WORK SAFE PEOPLE!
I've really been struggling with what to write of late. Things are pretty mellow around here. Things have settled down a little bit at work. Everyone is home and healthy (except for Thing1 who now has the flu. No oinking yet. I'll keep you posted). School is going smoothly. Sports are keeping all of us busy and out of trouble. Ex has a new lady interest. Buffett and I are good. The weather has been absolutely gorgeous so I've been out playing in it and spending very little time surfing the interwebs. All that translates to boring Boring BORING. Until this afternoon.
I must admit that I started this post this morning and it was all about things that I have recently noticed that are very hot. You know, things that are visually stimulating. Things that make you damp in the panties region. In particular we were going to talk about Dancing with the Stars and about Buffett in a suit. Mmmm, both very hot. Buffet dancing in a suit or dancing in and out of anything for that matter would be even better but I'll let you escape my fantasies for the time being. (He does like to dance by the way, which means I am one very lucky woman).
But the hotness conversation must be delayed because this afternoon a man with a unibrow crashed his cart into mine at the grocery store all in the name of getting my phone number. Awesome right? It was like a scene out of a really bad movie. And the poor guy was not so happy when I laughed at him. Yes, yes I did. I couldn't help myself. It was just too damn funny. Picture this...
STOP. THE. PRESSES. STOP THE MOTHER FUCKING PRESSES!
SexyMan has a new girlfriend. I'll call her Bunny.
This just discovered via the scary abyss that is Facebook:
Buffet's ex-girlfriend... is Bunny.
I'll let you chew on that for a minute. . . . .
Yeah, I'm ummmm... just... wow.
Small world doesn't even begin to explain this one. Excuse me, I think I need a drink.
