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Aug. 16th, 2014 05:12 amLast night I dreamed that JC and I were sitting together in a hospital waiting room. He asked me if I could keep a secret, and when I nodded he leaned in, very serious, and told me that the "C" in JC doesn't really stand for "Chasez" - it stands for "Chardonnay". Then he laughed, kind of creepily, for what felt like an uncomfortably long stretch of time. Hours, maybe.
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zebraljb posted her porn-quel! And it's not just any ol' porn-quel, no sir - it's basically a very thorough checklist of all things awesome and righteous. Jealous!Kevin? Check. Awkward cherry jokes? Check. Spanking? Hmm, only about fifty mega-checks and a thumbs up for good measure. So. :)
In this weekend's brand new round of DO NOT WANTery...I'm going to a wedding. In New Jersey. (cue sad-cartoony slide whistle sounds) There is, however, a potential upside (and I know it's aggressively dirtbag-y of me to consider this an upside, OK? I realize that), which is: the groom comes from a family of uber-WASPs, and the bride's mother is violently, virulently anti-Gentile. She's already thrown screaming, foot-stamping fits at the engagement party, the bridal shower, and (I'm told) the rehearsal dinner - which was held at some outrageously chi-chi, big name restaurant on the West Side where Madonna apparently eats. This woman has emotions. So yeah, again, dirtbag-y, I know, but c'mon! If I'm expected to navigate the PATH train and do the Single Ladies dance IN SPANX...don't I at least deserve the unmitigated joy that can only come from seeing a seventy year old woman shove a waiter into a chocolate fountain? (Rhetorical. That question was 100% rhetorical. Because of course I do.)
zebraljb posted her porn-quel! And it's not just any ol' porn-quel, no sir - it's basically a very thorough checklist of all things awesome and righteous. Jealous!Kevin? Check. Awkward cherry jokes? Check. Spanking? Hmm, only about fifty mega-checks and a thumbs up for good measure. So. :) In this weekend's brand new round of DO NOT WANTery...I'm going to a wedding. In New Jersey. (cue sad-cartoony slide whistle sounds) There is, however, a potential upside (and I know it's aggressively dirtbag-y of me to consider this an upside, OK? I realize that), which is: the groom comes from a family of uber-WASPs, and the bride's mother is violently, virulently anti-Gentile. She's already thrown screaming, foot-stamping fits at the engagement party, the bridal shower, and (I'm told) the rehearsal dinner - which was held at some outrageously chi-chi, big name restaurant on the West Side where Madonna apparently eats. This woman has emotions. So yeah, again, dirtbag-y, I know, but c'mon! If I'm expected to navigate the PATH train and do the Single Ladies dance IN SPANX...don't I at least deserve the unmitigated joy that can only come from seeing a seventy year old woman shove a waiter into a chocolate fountain? (Rhetorical. That question was 100% rhetorical. Because of course I do.)