A little country maybe…

I’m bored…it’s stupid really, considering I have about a million pages to read for my SIX classes este semestre and about a dozen essays to write and chores to do and boxes to UNPACK and preparations for our upcoming trip to take care of…but here I am…at 10pm…blogging…oh well…I suppose somewhere between playing the evilly addictive WOW and putting away the dinner leftovers and watching stupid middle-of-the-night programming and taking my shower and masturbating to mental images of my dear sweet sexy hunka-hunka-hubby I’ll find the time and the inspiration to accomplish my daily tasks and chores. If not, there’s always tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow…okay, sorry Mr. Shakespeare…I just don’t know where to begin. I’ve never been one of those one-day-at-time types of people. I’m just your average, run-of-the-mill, psychotic, insane, multiple-personalitied, confused little girl all grown up and living again…um…yeah…not really sure where THAT came from…Actually, life’s not half bad. I mean, Robert and I are still technically newlyweds–almost four months and counting–and it’s not like getting married erased or eradicated or eradiated or eroded or erected a wall around our preexisting silly misunderstandings and horrible events and bad times and sad times and hot sex times and no sex times and all of that…but we are doing much better. Luna is growing and changing and developing at a normally healthy rate and Robert is awesome and romantic and sexy and fun and random and spontaneous and I am trying to try cause that’s all I can promise even myself, so tonight when I am sitting here on my fat lazy alabaster ass stuffing my face with my malfunctioned rendition of chicken spaghetti washed down with green tea I must reflect back upon my life and, in complete confidence, acknowledge the fact that where I’m at right now, this very time and place, these people, this love…hell…it ain’t half bad! I mean, I get to run around barefoot caring for my baby and my husband and my home and he’s busting his ass at a manual labour job to keep food on our table and he still finds the time to give me gifts and shower me with kisses and fuck me senseless–gotta love it! Liz Phair— Give it to me. Don’t give it away. Don’t think about what the others say. My skin’s getting clear. My hair’s so bright. All you do is fuck me every day and night. You’re my secret beauty routine. Na, na, na, na, what my body has seen! I am lookin’ good, and I’m feeling nice. Baby, you’re the best magazine advice. Gimme your hot white cum.

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