TRY A T-BONE

I wasn't quite sure how I was going to tie this one into Letters of Intent, but I wanted to share it because it made me laugh. It's T-Bone's reply to having stumbled upon my blog yesterday (a blog that he didn't know existed) .... Happy Friday.

Dear Self,

Always, always remember to sign out of blogger when you leave the house ... especially if there's a chance T-Bone will be stopping by. You know that when he's left alone, he heads straight to the computer to play poker and look at porn. And didn't you learn your lesson that one time when you answered your cell phone in the doctors office and the whole waiting room heard through the phone "How'd ya get a UTI?" ..... Yeeah, it's the little X at the top right hand corner of the screen ... Now quit laughing and/or shaking you head, and set the man up with his own damn blog. And save this as a reminder because it's the second closest thing you've ever gotten to a love letter .... (oh, and add some links in there while you're at it)

dont no quite how start,but am sure something will cum 2 me.cant type very well(took 4 mnts) but trying hard.dont know if this is invasion of privacy,but is o.k because stacy likes me,sometimes.here are some of my  views on life in general.religion,if we didnt have it,the world would be at peace.girlfriends,are happy 75% of time.wives 25%(kidding 35%)men100% when sleeping.otherwise % drops as nagging starts.driving-if u get behind a honda,switch lanes ,otherwise makes for long commute.shoulder checking-its not just a move in hockey.the metis nation-75%crooks,24% petty crooks.sex-i am not a maschine,of course u enjoy it,u don't have 2 do anything.still pretty freaking fun.plaggerism-jeebus,is my word,and i dont remember anybody asking permission to use it.hashbrowns-take it easy on the salt.poker-use a steele desk,wood breaks too easily.making love-boring.women i dont know-i'm not a piece of meat(if i was i would be filet mingon)to be fondled and stared at with obviuos intetions of being eaten slowly and succulently.tactless and uncouthe.stacy dosnt apprecciate it either,but is the price that must be paid.THE TORONTO MAPLE LEAFS!-my team.if they win stacy gets some.by the way the season has started,might be a lonley year in woodsville.CAPS LOCK-just dicoverd it.SPELING-overated.LESBIANS-the 1 i know is really cool,the ones on youporn seem pretty nice too.JON&KATE-2 VERY STUPID PEOPLE.kids dont stand much of a chance,but who the hell knows.SEX TOYS-fun for all concerned.2 be used in moderation.DRUGS-fun for all concerned.2 be used in moderation.COOKING-when something is made out of love for u by someone else,dont complain about what the kitchen looks like,instead say thank-u and start cleaning up the battlefield.MORNINGS-used to not mind them.since i met stacy,am very scared when sun comes up.jeckyll&hyde shit.TERELL OWENS,MIKE VICK,PLAXICO BURRIS-maybe highschools and colleges should actually provide thier athletes with an education ,rather then give a free ride to anyone who can run fast.it must be pretty hard to run in a 8 by 10 jail cell.poor bastards cant even read to pass the time.HANDJOBS-the forgotten art.BLOWJOBS-yes please.THE HUNGER GAMES-best novel i've read in a while.THE "C" BOMB-should be used with caution.applied to those of extreme prejudice or inaminate objects.CATS-only love u when thier hunggee(see plagerism).CHEATING-if u feel the need to check your spouses cell phone,e-mail or whereabouts,all trust has been lost and they probably are cheating.why cheat anyway,just leave,its easyier on all concerned.thier is nothing to understand.OTHER PEOPLES MINOR INJURIES-stubbing toes on coffee tables,walking into doors or walls,tripping on curbs,or my all time favorite falling over stinking drunk  are very funny when they happen to other people.MY WOMEN-1in 100000000000000000.am very blessed man.GOOD-BYE.                

Well Stacy, you can't be that mad at yourself for leaving blogger open, there is some (sweet) genuine T-Bone in there. What you might want to do when helping T-Bone set up a blogger account is show him spell-check and teach him how to use the shift key. Or not. And when blogging from now on, always assume that one day, he'll stumble upon it again and read everything. So you might want not want to write blogs about your faux-husband or your office boyfriend eye candy just in case.

Sincerely,
Stacy                                                                                                                                         

happy hump day

Speaking of humping ..... I was just clicking away all over blogger when I came across something that always gets my attention: SEX on Janie Woods blog. To read that I'm not the only sex maniac that begs her man for the lovins, well that just made me feel so much .... well I can't entirely say better because I'm still not reaching my quota of triples each & every day. Ok, I may be over-doing it here, I'm really not that much of an animal. What fears me after pondering this issue, is that I am younger than some women who I hear have this high drive. What will become of me as I grow up? Will it get worse for me? What will become of T-Bone? I was so damn grateful when I realized that I needed the schnoo schnoo as much as I needed air to breath and I had met T-Bone, who was always "up" for it (ok, lame I got it ...) He's not so much anymore and I have found myself picking fights and actually pouting, I swear to jeebus, I've been pouting. Not to worry though, I now have a drawer full of goodies, and even though T-Bone's a pretty generous guy (not too long ago, as a matter of fact, I scored 4 times, yes FOUR times, in roughly 2 hours ...), we're not together every waking minute, and when we are, I understand that he's not a machine (even though not too long ago I scored FOUR times in 2 hours ... wait, did I mention that already?). But those nights he's "tired" or what-the-hell-ever, well he best be sleeping on the couch because my new pal that I picked up at the megaplexxx in San Antonio (thanks again my beloved M&P friends) is never too tired ... never! And as time goes on, if his drive (heaven forbid) hits rock bottom while mine continues to sky rocket, he already told me I can find a hot young boy toy (that was my interpretation anyway), just as long as I quit pouting ....

my new 'down-there' doctor

It wasn't bad enough that I had to get my privates inspected today, I had to let some woman I've met twice play with my rack yo. I gotta admit though, it was a whole different experience than when my usual doctor (Mr. Doctor) does the exam. Not that I'm uncomfortable with male doctors, especially this one ... he has seen me at my worst - bloody gooey baby coming out of one end and some very colourful words coming out of the other end - and I thought I was quite comfortable with him putting his face a mere few inches away from my special place then lifting and pushing and pulling my ta-ta's, but let me tell ya ... when I had Mrs. Doctor down there today, touching me in places I never thought I'd let a stranger touch, I was pretty damn relaxed. I could have had a whole conversation with her about shoes, or movies, or what our families were doing this coming Thanksgiving weekend. It felt normal, well as normal as it can  feel when you have your hoo-ha held open with a plastic apparatice and your cervix scrapped with a wire brush ... have I said too much? Moving on then .... and when I curled up into the fetal position and repeated 'I gained 17 pounds in 3 months' over and over and over, she understood the blow I had just received, and even offered a bunch of blood work to rule out any other problems that could be causing weight gain. Now this is my kinda doctor, not suggesting even once that perhaps I've eaten one too many bags of chips, or that maybe I'm not getting enough exercise - well to be honest, at one point it did sound as if she was trying insinuate that the "reduced activity" may be a factor, but I promptly stared her down and repeated 17 POUNDS ... and she just went ahead and added a few more tests to my blood work requisition form. Mr. Doctor probably would have said "alrighty then, get your fat ass off the couch, put down the big mac, and I'll see you next year" (nah, he's a pretty nice guy ... but still ... a guy!) Anyway, once I was feeling nicely invaded, and in need of a shower, I had to hop on over the optometrist to find the mystery behind the floaters in my eye. Well, they're still a mystery, but appearantly nothing to worry about, yet. I have a beautiful retina, but hey ... let's freeze my eyes anyway, put drops in them that somehow run down the back of my throat (wtf?), let them sit until I can no longer make out the words on my incoming text messages, flash odd lights in my eyes, then send my on my way ... dialated pupils an' all. Oh jeebus, when I opened that door .... yes, they were nice enough to remind me that I would need my sunglasses, but I thought they were just being polite because it is oddly sunny for a cold October day ..but nope, they reminded me because I needed the sunglasses. It was as if I had opened a door and stepped on to the sun. I giggled because I couldn't believe they were letting me drive, but I figured it could be fun & challenging. It was nothing special, I've been regaining my up close vision while typing this out, now I'm just waiting for my pupils to shrink so I can open my curtains and probaby get dinner on. No carbs for me I guess, a fist sized piece of chicken and a handful of lettuce it is ...

Mr. Sisters ex-girlfriend

Well I am still having a hard time getting the "True Story Tuesday" linky pic thingy in the middle of my post here, all sorts of weird stuff happened when I went to Edit HTML, and pasted, now I could be way off, but that's what I'm assuming needs to happen ... if anyone can lend assistance, I'd feel a wee bit stupid but would appreciate it. I do, however, know how to add a link, so I'll just it this way for now ... here's my true story this chilly Tuesday ....

Back when my oldest sister (we'll call her Mr. Sister because she's gay) was dating her second girlfriend, my kid was about 4 years old. We gathered at my moms house one morning, there was about 5 of us sitting around the kitchen table having coffee. My kid hopped up on the lap of Mr. Sisters girlfriend to say Hello. All convseration had come to a stop (because that's always what happens when someone is about to say something loudy that will either embarass themselves, the person they are talking to, or the person they are talking about) and my 4 year old, still excited with all the people gushing over her, but now at a loss for what to say next (I guess ...), in her too-cute-for-words little void asked "Are you a boy?" My head was in the fridge looking for the coffee cream, a noose, whatever ... and I just froze. As did everyone else in the kitchen by the sounds of it. All awaiting for Mr. Sisters girlfriend to answer the sweet little girl on her lap. She quietly confirmed that Yes, she was a girl. This seemed to satisfy my kid and I breathed a sigh of relief, then heard some muffled chatter outside the fridge, so I knew the discomfort had been averted. Until my daughter decided she was not, in fact, satisfied with the answer she had just received. She loudly boomed in her too-cute-for-words voice ... "then why do you have a moustache?" Well hell ... Mr. Sister's girlfriend did indeed have a moustache, not like a full set of handle bars with a goatie or anything like that, but also not like the little blond peach fuzz I have above my upper lip that my eye brow ladies always seem to notice when I go in to get threaded ... anyway, I don't remember must else of that converstation because I kepy my head in the fridge as long as I could, just searching for that coffee cream ...