Ok enough of the mushiness already.
My chest hairs have started to bristle, my muscles ache to be clenched and I fear that I might have to go camp, kill a wolf, eat it's raw heart just to cleanse myself.
It's a little disturbing I know, but don't blame it on me. It's but genealogy.
(At least I hope that's what it is, else chicken won't be our staple diet anymore).
On similar notes, we've been painting this mean ol town red. It has to be done. And no plans. Nothing. All plans have been thrown to the wind where they flutter lifelessly. Just her, me and a town named boo.
oh and last night, in a karaoke bar, I sang my post marriage rendition of Creep. A girl at the bar yelled "If I had underwear to spare, I'd throw it at you".
Making life difficult for single guys, one bar at a time. Ah bliss.