My Mom said that last night. She. Is. So. Awesome. Of course, she was just referring to a certain “special” part of the male body. I’m pretty sure she thinks everything other than “that” is nice. Anyway, it made me laugh and I told her I was going to write a blog about it and I don’t think she believed me. In your face Mom. I totally did it. I think you learned an important lesson today.
Although, to be fair, my blog post isn’t really about how ugly male genitalia is, because I mean, sheesh, I don’t want to make people feel bad about themselves. Really insensitive Mom.
This blog is actually about highlights of my week and it just so happens one of them was my Mom calling the male anatomy out. Male anatomy, you have been put on notice- shape up or ship out (I’m not really sure what that means). Other highlights of my week include…..
I had a pretty stellar Harry Potter dream. I pretty much re-wrote the ending in my subconscious. Sometimes I was Harry Potter and then sometimes I was kind of watching it all happen so it was nice to have more than one perspective. The only thing was that in my dream Severus Snape and Bellatix Lestrange totally get married and have a baby, and then Snape helps Harry find all the horcruxes without telling Bellatrix, and Harry knows Snape isn’t really a bad guy and they sort of have a truce. Then I woke up and was like- whoa- there is no way Snape would have ever married Bellatrix and maybe I shouldn’t eat pizza before going to bed.
My friend had a birthday and I celebrated with her so none of the evil spirits that target people on their birthdays could get to her. I know my well wishes were instrumental in keeping her life demon free.
I was craving a Schlotzskys pizza the other night after work, and when I got there I was talking on the phone and trying to order at the same time and the Schlotzskys lady asked me if I wanted to try their “new” pizza. I assumed this meant like new crust or better toppings or something so I said yes. What she meant by “new” was gigantic. I found myself in possession of an enormous pizza. I don’t even know how much I paid for it. I just assumed (emphasis on ass) that I was ordering one of the regular sized pizzas that maybe had gotten some sort of makeover. I was wrong. So very very wrong. Of course, I was too embarrassed to say anything so I just took the pizza and left. It was delicious. And though I felt like a fool, I get to eat pizza for days so I’m not sure what the lesson is here.
This week my Grammy said “crotch” and then pointed to hers as if maybe I didn’t know where the “crotch” was. Could. Not. Possibly. Love. Her. More.
I’m realizing now that my week was not that interesting. Sorry. I will try to possibly rob a bank or something next week. (Note: In no way am I going to rob a bank)