First of all, if you haven't seen our 90s karaoke or showtunes karaoke, you need to. Second of all, next month's theme looks like it's going to be any song you can think of with the word "fuck" in it. This is a pretty broad category, so no excuses, you whiny bitches. If you don't want to say the word fuck (weird), you can always bleep it out. It's a blast, and Andy is making us buttons! If you want to join, email me at tatorhead328 at yahoo dot com.
Oh, and I put a poll up about what kind of vlogs y'all like best. I've had a ridiculous amount of fun making them. (No, seriously. It's beyond normal.) Also, if you're on 20sb, we plan on having a get-drunk-and-chat night on Saturday. It should be pretty incredible because I'm all about the Four Lokos this weekend and will probably forget half of what I do/say.
Also, I got to Skype last night for the first time ever. It was kind of like going on a first date except that we couldn't go for the yawn, sneeze, boob grab on account of being hundreds of miles away from each other. Let Down City, Population: One. On the good side, it wasn't anywhere near as awkward as I expected. That might have had something to do with the two beers I drank right before. Oh, and Andy sat off to the side the whole time, shaking his head at us. He's SO jealous.
Andy and I started dating in October 2008. The day before Thanksgiving, I went over to his house to watch movies and hold hands and gaze into each other's eyes and that's ALL, okay, Mom? So I might have ended up staying the night, obviously sleeping in a different room because it would be sinful to even be in the same room with the door closed after midnight, so says Baby Jesus and the Mormons.
So Thanksgiving afternoon, I woke up panicking about the fact that I only had one set of clothes, and they were not exactly appropriate for a holiday meal with the family.
"Maybe I could just wear this shirt?" I said, holding up Andy's long sleeved too-large shirt that I had slept in the night before. "If I wear it with jeans and tuck it in and wear a belt, maybe it will look like it was meant for a girl?"
Hint: That shirt absolutely, in no way, shape, or form, looked like it could ever be anything other than a "I fucked my boyfriend last night and all I got was this stupid boy shirt" shirt. (Remind me to post a picture of this shirt later because I totes still have it.)
When I walked in my mom's house, I was prepared to gorge myself on delicious holiday food and then run as fast as I could to my car before anyone realized I hadn't helped with dishes at all. The immediate response from my mother was a "Hey, how are y...." when she trailed off and stared awkwardly at my shirt, obviously at a loss for words. "Is that........ is that a man's shirt?" she asked suspiciously. "Pfffffft! Oh, Mom. Ohhhh, you. Don't be ridiculous." And then I stuffed a handful of bread in my mouth and ran away before the wrath of her laser beam premarital sex zapper eyes could turn me into a nun.
On another note regarding things that happened at the beginning of my relationship with Andy, sometimes things happen concerning vaginas that aren't all that attractive. Like hairy bushes or smelly vaginas or infections. And sometimes people have to buy things for the infection problem like sanitary napkin things. Totes normal.
One day, I left my perfectly normal, no, it's not weird at all, stopjudgingme, napkin things in the work bathroom. After sleeping at Andy's house one weeknight (having totally innocent pillow fights and drinking hot cocoa until bedtime at which point we went to separate rooms and dreamed of Jesus and love), I woke up to a text message from the boyfriend himself. (He got to work earlier than me.) The text said, "Someone left their vagina wipes in the bathroom at work! Haha! How embarrassing!"
FUCKING FUCKITY FUCK. FUCK FUCK.
(There goes my Adsense approval!)
I texted back something like, "HA HA HA Sooooo embarrassing HA HA I would totally die if that was me let'sstoptalkingaboutthisnowplease."
And it took me over two years to finally tell Andy this story. It's almost unfair how classy I am, y'all.