Sorry So Quiet
All's well here...perhaps I'm understating-- it's simply perfect. But perfect rarely breeds inspired posts. I could tell you about how John and I have become afficienados of both Trivial Pursuit and Scrabble (that Genus edition is harder than I remember! I think my parents cheated and gave me fake questions growing up!). I could tell you that I needed my mom's help in paying my $1,000 bill to get my car cleared for inspection---it is seriously amazing how much better the car runs---it no longer sounds like Fred Flintstone is using his feet to carry my little econo-car along!
Instead, I'll tell you how our past weekend could've been exciting, in list form:
1. It could've been exciting if I hadn't played drunken Scrabble on Friday night.
2. I consumed 5 Molson XXX and a few other lite beers and all of the sudden I was just a blathering idiot.
3. 6,000 is the number of times that John begged me that night to take a breath and stop babbling.
4. 6,0001 is the number of times I ignored his request.
5. That night, the drunken sex was spectacular...I blame my drunkeness for my reference to John as a "stallion"...stallion??? You can do better than that, right???
6. I awoke the next morning to lay on the couch and drink another beer to try to stave off the hangover...instead, I passed out.
7. I awoke again, to puke.
8. and puke
9. and eat KFC
10. and puke
11. and eat Wendy's
12. and puke
13. John, my faithful nursemaid (and sex stallion), tried to revive me. First, with more sex...nice, but that didn't help. Second, with trying to get me to T's Halloween party. A party we were supposed to be at around 8 pm...instead, he was trying to rally me to go at 3 am and laugh at our drunken friends.
14. I waved him away, puked and set him along without me...I nestled down with a lovely marathon of To Catch a Predator (I think it's probably wrong of me to love that show...but I do, I love it)
15. John returned with lots of pictures and videos of all kinds of mayhem--girls making out, John's friend potentially getting a threesome (which may have been arranged by my very own sex stallion, since he plied them with numerous shots in the two hours that he was there--that's how he got his other name--The Shot Monster!)
16. I fell back asleep and laid on the couch the whole next day watching football next to the Stallion.
17. Moral of the story...drunken Scrabble can destroy a weekend I suppose.
Oh and I'm attempting to do this:

Instead, I'll tell you how our past weekend could've been exciting, in list form:
1. It could've been exciting if I hadn't played drunken Scrabble on Friday night.
2. I consumed 5 Molson XXX and a few other lite beers and all of the sudden I was just a blathering idiot.
3. 6,000 is the number of times that John begged me that night to take a breath and stop babbling.
4. 6,0001 is the number of times I ignored his request.
5. That night, the drunken sex was spectacular...I blame my drunkeness for my reference to John as a "stallion"...stallion??? You can do better than that, right???
6. I awoke the next morning to lay on the couch and drink another beer to try to stave off the hangover...instead, I passed out.
7. I awoke again, to puke.
8. and puke
9. and eat KFC
10. and puke
11. and eat Wendy's
12. and puke
13. John, my faithful nursemaid (and sex stallion), tried to revive me. First, with more sex...nice, but that didn't help. Second, with trying to get me to T's Halloween party. A party we were supposed to be at around 8 pm...instead, he was trying to rally me to go at 3 am and laugh at our drunken friends.
14. I waved him away, puked and set him along without me...I nestled down with a lovely marathon of To Catch a Predator (I think it's probably wrong of me to love that show...but I do, I love it)
15. John returned with lots of pictures and videos of all kinds of mayhem--girls making out, John's friend potentially getting a threesome (which may have been arranged by my very own sex stallion, since he plied them with numerous shots in the two hours that he was there--that's how he got his other name--The Shot Monster!)
16. I fell back asleep and laid on the couch the whole next day watching football next to the Stallion.
17. Moral of the story...drunken Scrabble can destroy a weekend I suppose.
Oh and I'm attempting to do this:

Labels: drunkening, halloween, John the sex stallion, puking, sexy time, tara, weekends are for lovers
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