I Call It Dating. You Call It Stalking.

When animals attack

Saturday was the day.

The fateful day.

My Real Wife and my Work Wife (formerly my Blog Wife) were spending time together.

Without me.

While drinking.

Lots and lots of alcohol.

By having the woman who has seen that tattoo of the Martian Manhunter on my taint talk frankly with the woman who has actually touched said tattoo, only bad things could happen.

Acting as Designated Driver, I chauffeured the two drunk women home and attempted to find out what they discussed during their evening out. Fuckin’ whores wouldn’t tell me.

So now, my imagination has run wild . . .

Real Wife: So, what’s it like working with Avitable? (Yes, my Real Wife calls me Avitable)

Work Wife: Well, he only seems to work in spurts of about 30 seconds at a time, and then he’s exhausted and wants to sleep.

RW: Sounds like our sex life.

WW: Really? According to how he tells it, he’s like John Holmes with the stamina of long-distance runner.

RW: More like Oliver Wendell Holmes with the stamina of a small-fused firecracker.

WW: BWAHAHAHAHAHA!

RW: HAHAHAHAHA!

WW: Seriously, though, it’s not too bad. But enough with the working in the underwear already!

RW: Well, I’ve tried to go through and throw away the pairs that have holes in the crotch so his balls aren’t always hanging out.

WW: I think you’ve missed a few pairs. And he definitely needs to shave or wax or something. It’s like he shoved a bear rug down the front of his manties!

RW: His ass is even worse. It’s like a Chia Pet gone wild.

WW: Oh, I know! My first day of work he treated me to four separate moonings. The one where he bent all the way over will scar me for life. I wake up randomly in the middle of the night screaming silently at least once a week now.

RW: I can tell you, eight years later, it does not get better. I still have my weekly ass-crack nightmare. If Avitable wakes up when it happens, he just laughs and laughs.

WW: That girly, high-pitched giggle?

RW: HA! Yup, that’s the one. I swear, between the giggles, the room sprays, and the Gilmore Girls, he is such a woman.

WW: He told me that I was being mean and that I should be more sensitive yesterday.

RW: I hope you took away his man card.

WW: Not only did I take away his man card, I made him do Time Out in the corner for an hour.

RW: Good for you. He also hates it when you call him Ahmoo. Just don’t use it too much or he might cry.

WW: Awesome! I’m so glad that we decided to do this. It’s driving Avitable crazy, too.

RW: I know, and that’s part of the fun!

WW: Hey, let’s make out!

RW and WW: Muamauamammmauamaumaslurp.

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33 Replies to “When animals attack”

  1. Miss Britt

    No, no. It went like this…

    Me: Ahmoo is such a girl

    Her: I know. At least he cleans and does laundry.

    Me: Ah, I was wondering how you stayed married to him.

    Her: Well it sure isn’t for the sex. Jeez.

    Me: Really? I’m sorry. What do you do to get by?

    Her: Did I introduce you to this cute little waiter at the gay bar who works in his tightie whities?

    Me: No… (OK, she thinks this got awkward, changin the subject, I get it)

    Me (again): It’s too bad all these guys are gay.

    Her: They’re not. The straight ones just do it for the tips.

    Me: Oh. Really? Wow. How do you know all this stuff?

    Her: Did I tell you about how I’m married to a girl?

  2. Avitable

    RW, are you sure? I see a resemblance.

    Sheila, it’s all true!!

    Mr. Fabulous, I pictured it with more nudity.

    NYCWD, I’ve still got both wives. Sigh.

    Geeky, laughing AT me or WITH me?

    Chelle, it’s good to start off the day with some emasculating humor.

    Dave, the duties vary based on the position. Are you more interested in missionary or doggystyle?

    Robin, no, she doesn’t understand blogs.

    Britt, luckily she doesn’t know about the housecleaner I pay to clean and do laundry.

    Shelli, I’m just transcribing based on the listening device I attached to Britt’s ass the day before.

  3. Avitable

    TMP, well, they were at a drag club.

    Britt, purse? Or purses? With diamonds?

    Amy, oooh, you suck!

    Brandi, should I be proud or sad?

    Hello, no, thank Jeebus. Her real husband did that.

    ADW, I still try to get involved in those pillow fights and make-out sessions, though. Want to strip down and join me?

    Bubblewench, it IS cool! Thank you.

    Wayne, I have no problem with Avitahblay.

    DB, well, you and Britt can talk like that and make out, anytime you want.

    Robin, Amy’s on the computer all day long. She understands what a blog is, but she just doesn’t get it.

    Tracy, let a boy dream, will ya?

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