At this very moment, in the middle of Small Town, OK, there happens to be a woman so desperate for pizza and ice cream that she’s considering hijacking an ice cream truck and driving it through the nearest Pizza Hut. I’m pretty sure if she does this, she’ll make the evening news whether she wants to or not.
So, FYI, I’ll be the one with the big boobs and the ski mask. You can’t miss me, but I’ll be sure and wave if they haven’t cuffed me yet.
This new birth control pill they have me on is driving me NUTS. I’ve heard people talk about having some “issues” when their normal pill gets switched up all of a sudden. I’m not sure we’re talking about “issues” in my case, though. I think we’re clearly into volumes and verging on the whole damn subscription. I kid you not. It’s so bad, my husband has actually coined a commercial slogan for the new pill:
ZARAH: For all those moments you would like to ruin but didn’t have the balls.
I’m pretty sure I have the balls to ruin some moments now! Well, figuratively speaking at least. I’m pretty sure all my lady parts are still intact. I’ll have to be sure and add an update if continued use of Zarah causes side effects like turning your vajayjay into the portal to Hell. I haven’t ruled this out yet.
On a less (or more, I’m not even sure now) personal note, I’m not sure I’d want to see myself through the eyes of my guys here lately, but I’m not going to lie. It probably involves fire breathing, evil red eyes, and some unintelligible growling and shrieking. I’ll know for sure when my 4 year old starts bringing pictures home from school that resemble some sort of Medusa-Godzilla Fiery-Banshee She-Beast and they’re all labeled, “Mommy.”
So… that’s all, ladies and gentlemen. If you hadn’t previously received your TMI of the day, you’re welcome.
No comments:
Post a Comment