#Funny Story

[foldingfittedsheets]

A basic human skill that people usually lock down around the age of three or four is impulse control. To conceptualize an action and it’s consequences before taking it. Maybe considering how that action affects other people. We then refine it through most of our childhood.

When I was a teenager my hold on this ability became… tenuous. I became a volatile and dangerous creature.

It’s probably not unique to me, but I had a perfect storm in terms of mental upsets. I had just mastered enough basic social skills, so I finally had a strong group of friends when my dad suddenly needed to move for work. Ripped away from my support network, blooming with hormones, I was dragged to Arizona. I was always a child of forests and mist and suddenly everything was hot, dry, and extremely pointy and aggressive.

Additionally to being abruptly transplanted I found myself an object of affection in a way I’d never been before. Lonely and desperate to make friends the only people who wanted to spend time with me had romantic designs. I just wanted to figure out my shit but I had a baby lesbian flirting with increasing aggression in art, a soft boy making heart eyes at me in biology, a senior nerd asking if I wanted to play Halo at his house and could he hold my hand?

Reader, I snapped. I didn’t want this romantic attention but I also didn’t want to be alone. My brain coped the only way it knew how, by simply cutting out decision making. Any action was the right action to take.

It started with the boy in biology. I’d stolen his pencil out of mischief and to my overwhelming fury instead of trying to steal it back he just softened his eyes and chucked me gently under my chin, a gesture so overtly sweet and romantic that I saw red.

I stabbed him with his own pencil.

I honestly and truly have no memory of it. It happened as fast as a snake striking and I was instantly filled with terrified remorse. Unfortunately that manifested as psychotic giggling.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t- I don’t know why- I’m so sorry!” I said, while hysterically laughing. I ended up having lodged some graphite in his palm and had to tweeze it out with my nails while apologizing furiously. (It’s very important to note here that he forgave me and we’re still friends)

That was weird, I thought. Why didn’t I think before I stabbed someone?

The next event was equally catastrophic, and I had even less reason to do it. In gym with two girls I was tentatively befriending, we were warming up running laps. I started racing one of them. At breakneck speed we were sprinting around the gym.

This time, there was a blip of thought before I fucked up. I should get the other girl! I have no idea why or what the plan was but I turned on a swivel and body checked the other girl. We both fell down in immense pain. I think that’s the moment I broke my tailbone. Her knees were horribly bruised and she looked at me in bewildered pain. “Why did you do that?!”

I had no idea. I apologized and helped her up, both of us hobbling like newborn horses, bruised and hurting.

By this time there’d been enough social upheavals that I was reduced to spending time with some girls I had nothing in common with and low key disliked. Sat at a table listening to this girl talk about how she wanted to be a stripper when she grew up I thought, You’d better put the cap on before you throw it.

I then chucked my empty water bottle directly at her face. It bounced off her forehead with a bop! that would have made a sound mixer weep at its perfection.

All eyes turned to me is startlement. I stared back at her, stunned by my own action, just as confused as everyone else at the table as to why I’d done that. One of the girls to my right said, “Were you trying to hit that fly?”

“Yes!” I lied, “I’m sorry, I thought I could hit the fly!”

Everyone laughed at my antics and I joined in rather than admit I had just chucked something at her for no reason.

Things did start to improve after that. I solidified a friendship with the girl I’d raced (who I developed a massive crush on and ten years later would go on to date). My outbursts turned more whimsical rather than aggressive. Like accosting a girl leaving the cafeteria to look deeply into her eyes and say with great compassion, “It’s going to be alright.”

My new friend and I snuck into the van that delivered our cafeterias baked goods and lay giggling in the back. When I’d impulsively hopped in she’d joined me and made it a game.

After a year in Arizona I broke down crying to my mother, an act of great desperation, and we ended up moving back home. My impulse control returned to normal teenage levels and life resumed in a happier state of mind.

[inbabylontheywept]

bad dating stories time: the shoe incident

so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.

at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.

he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?

and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.

but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.

i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?

(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)

and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.

i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.

that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.

i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.

anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.

i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.

we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.

he was okay at it.

eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.

soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.

realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:

"i can't get pregnant"

which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.

still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"

and then i was in my car, and i drove away.

if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.

and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.

WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.

we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.

do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.

and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.

then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.

and then they started making out.

i was close enough to hear it.

i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.

so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.

now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.

so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.

about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.

my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.

my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.

they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?

and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.

[sunshinesere]

Emily Henry / Funny Story

[keferon]

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAH

[xiaq]

No, but lets talk about this. I dug out my grad school notes and everything.

So my grandmother is acting a fool on FB (what else is new).

And I can't respond to her because I might actually give her a heart attack if I shared some of the images included below. But I wanted to rant to someone so here we are. First, yes, the drag bit at the Olympics was inspired by The Feast of the Gods, by Dutch artist Jan van Bijlert in the 1630's, not The Last Supper mural by Italian artist Leonardo da Vinci, in the 1490's. And yes, pearl-clutching Christians need to touch grass and tone down the victimization because it's getting embarrassing. I think we've established this now from multiple reputable sources.

But like. Even if the Olympics DID make a drag parody of the The Last Supper, it's SO funny that Christians are holding up that painting as some sort of ideal heterosexual conservative icon when plenty of historians (including my Renaissance art prof in grad school) are certain da Vinci was gay. The man had no documented female lovers but was arrested for sodomy with a male prostitute (though charges were later dropped). He had extremely close relationships with his secretary Salaì and pupil/friend Francesco Melzi who both traveled the world and lived with him for most of their lives and through the end of his. When he died, Melzi wrote in a letter that there was "a burning and passionate love" between them. And Salaì modeled for da Vinci all the time--let me tell you, there are some hella erotic drawings of him. Exibit A:

But maybe heterosexuals draw their bros erect all the time and label the drawings "Angel Incarnate." Maybe.

Also if Christians really want to clutch their peals, this drawing might look familiar because da Vinci created his well known John the Baptist painting based on this and other sketches of Salaì.

Well, hello. Also worth noting: there are lots of fun doodles in da Vinci's sketch books, including things like the below--two dicks with legs poking at a butthole labeled Salaì.

Do you REALLY think that this (likely queer) man would care if someone based a drag show off one of his paintings?

[thethingsicantsayinpublic]

and if you look to your left you will see the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me

[whatsupmykentuckyfriedfuckers]

I'm gonna write a story about an asexual vampire who just steps right into the sun because they can't eat garlic bread anymore.

[yukimisouzou-kim]

The Shenanigan Of MalleYuu #23

Yuu: “May I see your baby pictures?” Malleus: *a bit embarrassed* “Sure thing…” *picture of black lizard baby Malleus bleeping* Yuu: “......... Daaaaawwww……” 🥺❤️ Malleus: *cough embarrassedly*

[toorumlk]

Emily Henry novels!

beach read / people we me meet on vacation / book lovers / happy place / funny story

[oifaaa]

Wait who is Tims assigned youtuber?????

Well

[valeskawhore]

Hi darling<3, hope you are doing okay<3! I was wondering if i can get a one shot or headcanons (wichever is easier for you) where Homelanders fall in love genuinely for a Female s/o wich is so cute, sweet and kind and have angel powers, like the wings, she can put people to sleep if she sings and almost looks like an angel (perfect sking almost in a pale pink tone, and pink hair<3). And the team is very confused like "How in the hell you fall in love with someone?", but Homelanders is very happy and wants to be a good boyfriend :D

Sorry it took me a bit!!!! Here you go lovely!!!! ❤️

Homelander x fem! Angel!! Supe reader!!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

It was such a surprise that Homelander could pull any bitches tbh.. (according to Maeve and A-train)

There was that one nazi chick but nobody even knows what happened to her? Didn’t she commit? Ehhh— nobody cares anyways.. especially not him.

You were the light of his life, his Angel on earth.

You both met during a Hero Galla being hosted in the tower. You weren't the biggest supe out there but you were a good friend of maeve's and what better time to have and reconnect then to get drunk at a hero gala? She was thrilled to see you again, as thrilled as Maeve can be anyways. You joined her at the bar, your wings stayed tucked on your back. They were huge so everytime you went to a public event you always ended up folding them into eachother as tightly as they possible could without them hurting. His words caught in his throat when he first saw you. And fun fact, he actually thought you were a painting when he first saw you. You were standing outside the bathroom, waiting for Maeve to stop throwing up after she ushered you outside, insisting that she was fine. You stood under a giant mural of a painting, one with angels on it unitentionally. It was very christain or something, with naked babies flying around in their white clothes wrapped around their bottoms and shooting arrows. Just something like that-- he dosent know, he didn't stare at the painting. This man had to do a double take. He glanced and was like-- "oh painting" and just as he was about to turn and walk away, Yanno do his job and charm the president for madam stillwell, The painting MOVED-- You simply turned to the side like a smidge and this man was on you when he found out you were REAL. You had the soft pink complexion with bright light undertones. You're hair was as if you were cupid. The color of love even in his eyes. Was it hearts? shingling in the reflection of his blue saucers? or was it your hair? he didn't know, he didn't give a fuck. But best believe, he was on you like white on rice. Homelander had never felt so bold before but there was something about your kind smile and words. Your voice was soft and quiet, he wasn't complaining, this gave him an excuse to step closer to you and invade your personal space so he could hear you over all the commotion in the room. He would grab your hand and introduce himself as THE homelander, Kissing your gentle soft knuckles. Did he mention you were soft? SOOOO soft. You blinked at him, "Oh..? are you important? iv'e never heard of you before?" And you really hadn't. you grew up on a small farm in Washington state allllllll the way over on the last state on the west side of the country. You didnt own a TV, you didn't even have a phone. that's why it took so long for you and make to reconnect. He was shocked, his pride was almost hurt a bit. Ofcourse he went into the fact that he's above everyone else because he was KINDA a big deal but it's fine. Cue to him obnoxiously shrugging and rolling his eyes with a wave of his hand, no biggie. But you were fascinated. He was so caught in your eyes, he didnt even realize the fact that you had wings until you turned around when you heard maeve's voice. Asking what the FUCK was Homelander doing. But it was no matter, because now it was your turn to sing for the gala! Little to your knowledge did Maeve make a public announcement that there was going to be a special preformance tonight from the one and only, "Seraphina" Your hero name. You were ushered to the stage pretty quickly by Maeve but untimatley she just wanted you away from Homelander as fast as possible. The song started pretty slowly. But that was your motive, the song was supposed to be a slow almost-lulliby theme. And if this man wasn't Inlove with you from the start, he definitely was now. There was something about your voice. something so calmly and soothing. Visable, his muscle sunk to the ground. He felt so relaxed under your tone.

It wasn’t until you had stopped singing abruptly and the crowd began to murmur was when he opened back up his eyes to see that your backup violinist had fallen to the ground in a deep slumber and you went rushing to his side.

Homelander’s eye twitched. Causing him to swiftly approach the stage in a not so calm like manner and step into it causing the crowd to cheer.

“Come on, sweetness. He’s fine.” Homelander smiled his signature smile. When you turned around, Homelander landed a swift kick to the man’s groin causing the man to choke out.

“See?” He turned to you, almost searching for approval. “He’s fine, sing. Please.”

He demanded.

And nervously.. you did.

——-

The rest of the night was history. Homelander remained attempting to chat you up until you finally told him that yes, you’d go on a date with him. He was ecstatic, but yet fearful.

He saw the way Maeve looked at you. Not in a romantic way but In a warning way. He knew Maeve was gonna try and say something to you about him, and destroy your relationship with him.

He threatened her that night and actually had her locked up on level 12.

————

When you guys did start dating, it was great. Homelander had convinced you that he was the perfect gentleman for you. That you guys belonged to eachother.

And for a while you thought that you guys did. Sure he was a little possessive but you never once doubted that he didn’t loved you because you knew he did.

He would follow you around and help you clean the house. He would insist on trying for children and on those lonely nights he’d hold you like no other.

And the sex was great. It really was.

But remember that guy from Walmart that said he knew you? And you both ended up grabbing a coffee after finding out you guys were really close in high school?

No? Because Homelander can’t either. That guy never existed apparently.. according to John.

Everything was fine.. that’s what you told yourself. You lived in a lavished home, nothing like the small farm from Washington. And you were taken care of.. set for life.

Until a smaller woman would approach you and ask for your help in rescuing Maeve. Her name was starlight and she apparently was a member of the 7. You glanced around, and told her to keep her voice down before ushering her into the bathroom and demanding that she’d explain.

What was going on? What couldn’t you find Maeve? She had been missing ever since you and Homelander had began dating.

John insisted that it was nothing and that Maeve had went to rehab? So what was going on.

You ended up telling John about your strange encounter with said straight and endorsed that she was strange.

You’ll never forget the look in his eyes from across the dinner table, like something had snapped in them. His blue eyes now felt cold as he stopped chewing his food with a nervous tensed laugh.

For the first time, you felt scared.

Maybe that little blonde girl was right.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Every sales job I’ve worked has that one item. The white whale. The biggest ticket you can sell. The sale you brag about when you’re chatting with other industry people.

When I sold mattresses it was a split king adjustable base. That’s two twin extra long mattresses next to each other to make a king, but each side can move independently. They’re insanely expensive and honestly kind’ve impractical but it was the biggest ticket thing to sell.

When I sold sex toys though our white whale was the 20lb ass. It was a female pelvis, a cut out from the waist to the tops of the thighs. It was hyper realistic material and cost about $500. I definitely had bigger tickets but not in one item typically.

In my time at the sex shop, I sold three. Each time was completely different in terms of how the guy acted about buying it. The first man was a little embarrassed and shy about it. I was professional and supportive as I rang it up. Once I handed him the receipt he looked at the box. Then he looked at me.

If you’ve ever wondered how big a box has to be to fit a 20lb ass let me just tell you: it’s pretty damn big. It’s an uncomfortably large armful of box and every side has a picture of the sex toy inside on it. It’s not subtle.

“Could I get a bag….?”

There was no bag that existed that could possibly contain all that ass. “Hang on,” I told him.

I got scissors and tape and covered the box in cut up black bags. Looking relieved he picked up his purchase and left.

The next man to buy one carried it proudly to the counter; self assured and not embarrassed in the least. When I said I didn’t have a bag, but I could wrap it for him he gave a hearty shrug and hefted it into his arms, marching out the door with the butt on full display.

The last man to get one was just kind’ve an odd guy. Not creepy, but eccentric. We got along great, and as I rang him up I said, “Well one guy wanted his taped over, and one guy carried it out. What would you prefer?”

“There’s no bags?”

“No store bags. I think our jumbo trash bags in the back might fit it….?” It seemed rude to suggest putting a $500 item into a trash bag, but he wasn’t bothered.

He considered this then said, “Bring me the trash bag.”

When I delivered it to him he still managed to surprise me. Instead of shoving the huge box into it he opened the box. He took out his new $500 sex toy, and all the little things it came with, tipping them unceremoniously into the trash bag.

“There! Now I don’t have to deal with the box later!”

I was slightly stunned but agreed that I could easily deal with the trash. Then in a move I still think about with delight he flung the trash bag over his shoulder like a Santa with a sack full of ass and sauntered out the door.

If this or my other escapades made you laugh you could pop a tip into my Ko-fi! For more like this check my tag "ffs foibles".

[celectial-rhyme]

— Funny Story by Emily Henry

[kimgmac63]

'Jeremy said to me on one occasion, "I was feeling so low the other day that I sent myself a fan letter."

' "Are you serious?"

' "I‘m absolutely serious."

' "What did you write to yourself?"

' "Dear Jeremy, I would just like to say what a wonderful actor you are. Your Sherlock Holmes puts every other attempt at the part in the shade. Basil Rathbone is not fit to clean your boots; and Douglas Wilmer and Robert Stephens should beg you to give them lessons. You're much prettier than all of them, for a start. There is only one word for your performance - magic. Please send me a signed photograph. Yours, Joe Bloggs. P.S. I've heard that you're really nice person, too."

' "Did you really write that?"

' "Yes, I did."

' "Did you send it?"

' "Yes. I put a first-class stamp on it. I wanted to get it as soon as possible. It came the next morning."

' "And did you read it?"

' "Of course I read it. I read it a dozen times. I felt wonderful afterwards."

' "Well, did you send yourself a signed photograph?"

' "David, I may be mad - but I‘m not barking mad! In any case, the bugger didn‘t send a stamped addressed envelope!" '

As recounted by David Burke 🖤

[vanalex]

"One time, Pete was driving his dad's station wagon (the kind with the simulated wood paneling on the doors) with all his nieces: Nancy, Michelle, Tara, Marie and me. The music was blasting hard rock. Peter's hair was flowing out the window and he had sunglasses on. All us girls were singing along to the music - our long hair flapping in the breeze, while Pete sped down Ocean Parkway.

At a red light, a car load of Guido guys pulled along side of us, blasting their disco music and making cat calls to us. The guys leaned out their open windows and were yelling, "Hey baby, give me a kiss" and "Turn around baby in the front seat and show me those lips"

So, Peter flipped his hair around, snarled his teeth, growled and barked at the guys. They SCREAMED.

You never saw people roll their windows up fast enough. These guys were screaming like little girls and then they just sped away.

I guess Pete's long hair fooled them into believing we were a car full of hot young girls. Ha ha ... little did they know we had a wolf driving our car."

Blog entry https://www.petersteelerocks.com

[xiaq]

We've been having some issues with our hot water heater so B did a little investigating and decided that the anode rod needed replacing. I intentionally misheard him (as one does with ones husband) when he conveyed this information to me and said, "you need a new anal rod??" which then became a little ongoing joke between us as we found and ordered a new one and then tracked shipping.

Unrelated, we open our windows at sunset each night to cool down the house for sleeping. Also unrelated, we live on a corner in a heavily foot-trafficked area near downtown.

So. The windows are open. The Amazon delivery guy has just dropped off a package. I bring inside the box and, without thinking, shout up the stairs to B, "DARLING, YOUR ANAL ROD IS HERE." There is a large group of people passing by on the left hand sidewalk.

There is a woman with a stroller on the right hand sidewalk.

The amazon driver is only just closing the gate.

They are now all paused and staring in at me. The windows are open.

My husband is laughing.