Wolverine. Nothing more to do than go to the movies. Er, go to a bad-ass movie. That involves hot, hot men. Now, I love some Hugh Jackman, I love Mr. Ryan Reynolds. (Have you seen his body? ) (Lord in Heaven ) My attention is totally on Liev Schreiber. He is one hot piece. Of tail.
Law. He could probably run a 50 yard dash with me on his back, and not be tired. He should probably surrender. We should probably make babies. I'm just sayin'.
Terry picked me up, and I had to check the mail, and exclaimed, he knew there was something different about me, but couldn't put his finger on it. Then, as I walked across the road, he said, "You're not wearing a wife beater!!!!" "That's what's different, and wrong!!!"
Terry Wise, is correct. I have rocked a beater for about 15 years now, it's my trademark, but now, I don't wear lacy bra's underneath 'em.
I can't believe I haven't uttered on single word about the events on Sunday afternoon. Terry and I were listening to the Jason Ellis Show... (satellite radio), and they were discussing "Are you a slut?" Now, just like any other radio show, this is the chosen forum. People were calling in, and Joe Rogan was the guest, (another awesome dude), and the boys had to use their discretion about who was a slut.
Well, this gal had called in from Las Vegas, and asked if they had heard of this "magic" trick. The boys called it a Houdini, she called it something else. Anyhooter, she had described a sexual act of a guy doing a girl from the back, and "faking" HIS orgasm, and then, having the girl turn around and blow in her face. This certain act, was not why she wanted to know if she were slutty, she wanted to know if because she likes having dudes blow in her face is the slutty act.
First and foremost, let me clear something up, You should have knowledge when your dude blows his junk. You should know. Your vaggy muscles can detect that shit. Secondly, if I turned around and some jackhole blew all in my face, and this was something that wasn't agreed on?
I would punch you square in the effin nose.
No doubt, that would be My reaction. (take notes, warn all your dude friends.)
All joking, and jackassery aside, a pretty sad event has transpired. I found Miss Daisy Rose Duke deceased in the driveway. So please say a little prayer, for my sweet girl kitty.
My Daddy's favorite cat, she will buried on Friday. Daddy wants to take care of her. She will be layed to rest by Chris the Dog, underneath the clothes line. I miss her little meow. It was so quiet, dainty, and perfect, I knew it was her immediately.
I did do one thing Thursday night, that helped me feel pretty dog-gone good. At bed check, I syringe fed the most pitiful/amazing little kitten. She's about a month old, the owner states she was from a ferel litter. Her little eye was out of her head. The doctor had done surgery, removed the eye, and she looks amazing. I was able to syringe feed her last night, and she purred.... she layed in my hands, and just purrrrrrrred. She's gonna make it. It was such a great moment for me. Little belly full, she went night-night.
So even in the bad, the good is hangin' around too.
P.S. If the two agree on the load blowing in the face, and both parties like it, it's not slutty.