2004-05-28 @ 8:01 p.m.
|Well, I'm coming to you live from Married Guy's house. Does it feel any different? I'm dog sitting this weekend. When I got on his computer I made sure I could delete the history of where I've been one his computer. Like the Nude Guys Holding Irises pictorial websites.
Well, I have to have some fun, when I'm stuck way out in the country in a big huge house by myself.
To be honest, its pretty much like when I'm at home, except Married Guy's paying the electric bill and I can walk further without bumping into walls.
I got here about 3:15. He had called this morning around 8:30 and said they would be leaving at 3 p.m. which in Married Guy-speak means at least 4.
I remember when we went to NYC a couple of years ago, we were supposed to leave at 4:30 and we left at 7.
For him, I think, it kind of Schedules, schmedules. For me...I may be a flakey, goof-off Aquarian in the rest of my life, but I'm absolutely anal about departure and arrival times. I even arrived early at birth.
So he was very friendly when I got here. He was ordering the kids around, trying to get everything out to the mini-yup-a-van. He is a truly righteous Dad. I have to admit that. He was showing me a few things around the house, like how to light the gas stove. I'm pretty well set, since I've house sat here about 5-6 times, including a whole week last summer. Wifie was in and out. She seemed mostly concerned about Married Guy bringing his Speed Stick deodorant. Hmmm, must be some issues surfacing there for her.
Then I noticed Married Guy fiddling with a package of photos on the kitchen table. I had to go digging for my glasses since I'm an old lady and can't see anything smaller than a watermelon these days. So he hands me a cute picture of kidlet at a track meet. I cooed over it naturally, since it was cute.
And then he hands me another photo. I looked at it. Adjusted my glasses. Then looked at it again. What's zat?
Oh, its a guy bending over with a mile long ass crack hanging out of his pants. You know, like someone mooning for the camera.
So I said, is that you? to Married Guy, and he kinda grins. He has a skinny little ass, since he's a buffed runner, so it was less butt crack and way more butt with his pants pulled down rather conspicuously.
He wouldn't say it was him, but he said wifie was responsible for the composition of the picture, but he wasn't sure who the guy was.
...And I'm sure she would be thrilled that you're showing it to me too.
Was it good for you? Should we smoke a cigarette now?
And it was fairly obvious that he got the photos out, not to show me kidlet's, but to show me his. What a goofball. I guess I can die happy now. I've seen Married Guy's somewhat wonderous hiney. Whee!
He did buy me some food and soda for my stay and coughed up a $20 bill for my gas. That was really generous for him. He is the original cheapskate of the universe and when I saw the $20 I was really shocked and said, "Oh, you don't have to give me that much", and he said, take what you need. That's him...Big Man on Mulberry Street. I appreciate though. I really need help right now.
We then said our goodbyes. The kisses are heading back towards my lips once again. Last week it was the cheek, today the edge of my lips. We play this game all the time. Damn, its stupid. I'm stupid. I need a new hobby. One who's single.
I then walked out to the car. Married Guy was still loading stuff. Talked to wifie briefly. She asked me about my figure drawing class. I told her about the guy giving me the flower, and somehow through my description, she realized she knew who the guy was. She's an artist too, and she had seen him pose before. Come to find out I was close on my assumption that he was a lawyer.
He's actually a judge. Can you imagine a county judge posing nude for a drawing class? Yeah, I live in Crazyville.
Wifie and I were actually kind of giggling together about the guy and how how he liked to flaunt what he had. And it was actually her who brought up the fact that he was rather well endowed.
Geeze, who would have thought wifie and I would be chatting about penises out in the garden on a sunny Spring afternoon?
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty