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All's well that ends well.
Oct. 11th, 2007 08:27 pmMy day perked up after I had lunch with my sister, and we had a thousand-million giggle attacks. Not to get all Hallmark-y or anything, but we were not at all close growing up. No reason, just different hobbies and interests and stuff. So it's good that we've bonded now, even if it's just "Yay, we survived a childhood trapped with The Drunk. Let's laugh at what we can!"
Also, it was my turn to get The Pumpkin this afternoon. We have an ultra terrifying stuffed pumpkin at work. It's lumpy, has spindly legs and arms, is wearing garters?!?, is squeezing the life out of a captured crow (yessss struggggle yesssss), and it's expression is pure John Wayne Gacy having a foodgasm. ICK. SCARY. Anyway, we've been hot potato-ing it around the office, setting it in absent co-worker's chairs, perching it atop purses, posing it to leer down from cubicle corners. Today, I go to answer my phone, and THERE IT IS. YESSSSS STRUGGGGGLE YESSSS. I do the freaked out girl jazzhands and squeak combo, everybody laughs, my phone keeps ringing.
***
Tag Team Studs hit a snag. Pile On Matt had no piling upon said Matt. Still a good read, but sorta, kinda just standard. Also, and this is a total Opera issue, not anything that actually reflects on the quality of the smut, but Travis included wrestling-themed stories written by someone else. They're very tasty. However, they're also 70's vintage. And I am sorry, but I have trouble getting turned on by guys named Larry or Barney or Bert. I don't picture leather dadddies; I picture muppets. And no more moustaches, plz.
Also, it was my turn to get The Pumpkin this afternoon. We have an ultra terrifying stuffed pumpkin at work. It's lumpy, has spindly legs and arms, is wearing garters?!?, is squeezing the life out of a captured crow (yessss struggggle yesssss), and it's expression is pure John Wayne Gacy having a foodgasm. ICK. SCARY. Anyway, we've been hot potato-ing it around the office, setting it in absent co-worker's chairs, perching it atop purses, posing it to leer down from cubicle corners. Today, I go to answer my phone, and THERE IT IS. YESSSSS STRUGGGGGLE YESSSS. I do the freaked out girl jazzhands and squeak combo, everybody laughs, my phone keeps ringing.
***
Tag Team Studs hit a snag. Pile On Matt had no piling upon said Matt. Still a good read, but sorta, kinda just standard. Also, and this is a total Opera issue, not anything that actually reflects on the quality of the smut, but Travis included wrestling-themed stories written by someone else. They're very tasty. However, they're also 70's vintage. And I am sorry, but I have trouble getting turned on by guys named Larry or Barney or Bert. I don't picture leather dadddies; I picture muppets. And no more moustaches, plz.
