Workin’ My Way Back To You, Bitches
‘Cause I’m burnin’ up inside!
I lie. I been busy. Today The Beyoncé had knee surgery. Oddly enough, clad in his glamourous white compression hose and hospital gown, gorked out on 11 different kinds of drugs and spices, eyeballs pointing in different directions, I’ve never found him more sexually attractive or debonair.
You see, the phrase “wearing an assless nursing home gown” played a pivotal role in our early courtship. The Beyoncé had written me a very witty and erudite email in the first weeks of our flirtation, describing the various merits of wearing an assless nursing home gown, chief among them being ventilation for various gases. There was also some discussion about whether or not it was nobler to stab oneself in the eyeball with a rusty kitchen knife than to suffer the slings and arrows of watching goddamn Martha Stewart stencil chola eyebrows on a capon on HGTV.
Immediately after reading this email, I decided this would be the man I’d spend the rest of my life with. You can see why, can’t you? All that talk of fart-conducive apparel and eyeball-stabbery really boiled ole Dr. Ding’s potato.
Next post: blogs you should read and sites you should visit. Followed by a good ole-fashioned Friday diatribe.
You’re welcome.
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| Etsy: QueenBodacious |
Hope the surgery went well.
It did!
He led with the assless gown and flatulence? Damn, he was really hot for you from the get-go! I imagine your reply knocked him on his freewheelin’ ass.
SO romantic.
Epiphenita-
We were made for each other. True dat.