As is usually the case, after Hot Pants goes out drinking, he passes out in my bed. Dead to the world. Doesn't matter how much he drank either. That man makes sleeping an Olympic sport. Good luck waking him up.
So, the other night, he'd done just that. Then I awake at some point in the middle of the night and can just make out his dark shadow standing in the corner of my room on my side of the bed. And he's walking into this chair I have in that corner like a bug in a windowsill. I can see outside, just can't figure out how to get there! Over and over, he's bumping into this chair.
So I go, "What are you doing?" And he goes, "LKJGJHTRDJG JYFG OINEFIYRBFWHFI NUIYB NUY." That's a direct quote.
I respond with incredulity, "What?" Which I felt was an appropriate response.
He says, exasperatedly, "The Xerox! I gotta move all the Xerox!"
So I calmly inform him, "You're not at work."
To which he replies, "THEN I HAVE TO PEE."
So I very forcefully point out that the bathroom is in the opposite direction and don't pee on my furniture or he may have to die tonight as well.
He did, eventually, make it to the bathroom and, I am happy to report, did not pee on my furniture or my carpet and still retains his life, but not before getting stuck at my desk chair (picture the bug again) thus necessitating the turning on of the light.
I have now told this story five thousand times to my friends and then all of his friends, but I can't help it. It made my whole week.
My man is nothing if not entertaining.
- Chicks who do it for me
- Lose Weight Fast with the Heartbreak Diet!
- Margaritas, Weed, and Slut Signals
- epic existential post just in time for that arbitrary changing of the calendar which I so love
- Public Service Announcement
- Horrifying Shit on Pinterest: Slut Shaming E-Cards
- Animal Monster Bird Squawk Dinosaur Creature
- My Doctors Always Suck, otherwise entitled Why I Hate Kaiser
- Sexy Saturdays: Slutty Saturday
- fishcunts and cum dumpsters