<%@LANGUAGE="JAVASCRIPT" CODEPAGE="1252"%> Whisky Pants
     
     
     

Look, I'm not doing this for you, but for my own dark and twisted reasons. Oh, and because everyone else is doing it.

 
 

October 13, 2004

which is worse?

Okay - which is worse? Having a guy toot while kissing you (like, three times, if you'll recall) or having a guy dump you - on the phone while you're walking home from the metro - after two months of some solid dating?

The Fraulein had this happen to her today. I ache for you, honey.

Yet another cardinal rule has been broken.

1.) You DO NOT pass gas on the fourth date and while you are kissing.

2.) You DO NOT break up with a person over the phone if you have had repeated (more than a couple weeks) carnal knowledge of each other.

I feel better now that I've vented.

Sorry for the recent lack o' blogging. I've had my sister, brother-in-law and precious nephew in town this week. Tonight is their last night here. My nephew pretty much hit the wall on Tuesday - he's hit saturation where anything remotely educational is concerned. And you can forget about Kodak moments; this four-year-old refuses to pose nicely anymore. However, we did get a pretty nice shot of him picking his nose. It will come in handy when he gets older.

As a result, I am in dire need of slightly excessive alcoholic consumption and really excessive use of profanity. The Multicultural Spitfire, the Fraulein and I are going out on Saturday night. To top it off, the Maestro (ref post on July 13 titled, "everyone say hello to salicious...") emailed me today. So at least I've got sin going for me.

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