I got a big kick out of everyone's comments yesterday. The poor Guy Who Sits Next To Me had to hear each new what-you'd-find-if-you-cut-me-open comment. Imagine being the poor guy who has to sit next to me all day. His wife is probably sick and tired of hearing about me already. "June again, GodDAMMIT!"
Maybe not everyone talks like Ned and goddammits all over the place.
Yesterday was a busildy day, and after work Alex #48584584 and I went out for pedicures and tea. It was her birthday last month, and I'd given her a gift certificate to the pedicure place and we finally cashed it in.
You know how it is after you get a pedicure: get busy livin' or get busy dryin', so we dried under the light table while Alex 47 (we're so intimate now that I have a shortening-of-her-name-nickname for her) read me my Cosmo Bedside Astrologer for the year. Every year since 8th grade I've gotten the January Cosmo and read the damn Bedside Astrologer, which in case you did not know gives you not just your year's horoscope, but also what you should wear that year, your sexy colors, and NOW, NOWWWW, they've even added your sign's sex position for the year.
I can'r recall now if it was my position or Al 47's that involved sitting in a chair, straddling your partner, and putting your legs over his shoulders.
When I got home, poor Ned was eating eggs and reading the paper. Sometimes he has no idea if it's morning or night.
"Ned, come over here to the chair," I said, once he'd put his plates away. It was all I could do to wait THAT long.
"Why?" Ned never thinks I'm up to anything good.
"Just sit down." So in my grandmother's chair, the chair where I'm hoping to God nothing like this has happened before, I sat on Ned with my coat on and my wet nails and so on.
"What are you doing?" he asked as I sexily tried to hoist my skinny-jeaned leg over him. And by the way, no one like me should wear skinny jeans. It's like when you call a huge guy Tiny. "It's my horoscope sexual position for the year, or maybe it's Alex's," I grunted as I kicked Ned in the head.
Ned lifted me off him. "This is a position for lithe people in their 20s, June." He went back to his paper.
You know, Cosmo Astrologer WARNED me about this.
The other news is that after work, Al '7 and I schlepped over here special to let the dogs out and feed them before we went on our jaunt, and jaunt doesn't at all sound like we're Paddington Bear or anything. Jaunt. Could I be any older? Ask my sex position.
The point is, we fed the dogs and headed off jauntily, and an hour later I looked at my phone and there was a message from Ned. "I'm assuming you didn't come home and feed these creatures," he began. I didn't even finish, but screamed to the Call Back button.
Did you ever watch Louis CK's show? You really should. He and his brother on the show sometimes go out for what they call a Bang Bang, where they eat two dinners in a row at two restaurants. "Greek and diner?" "Nah." "How about Chinese and pizza?" "Yeah, okay."
Those dicks. They didn't even remotely act not starved. THEN they had the nerve to stare at Ned's eggs. They need the eggs.