So I’m all set to go to sleep last night. Kids tucked in, George — Our Elf on The Damn Shelf — posed as a school teacher in front of a bunch of Green Army Men (complete with white board strewn with kiddo equations, because I’m a nerd like that), eye cream applied, stove knobs checked (twice), and Mr. Northman texts me.
Northman: Nice blog.
Me: Did you read much?
Northman: Every bit. Loved it.
(Gotta love an encouraging man. Sexy.)
Me: Thanks! IDK who’s reading, but WTF? It’s fun.
Northman: What r u doing right now?
Me: Just in bed. Nothing. Reading. How are you?
Northman: So you’re going to sleep?
Me: Not if you keep texting me.
Northman: Sorry! Get some rest, Bunny.
(Yes, he calls me Bunny. No, I’m not ashamed to admit it. If a man that sexy gives you a nickname, especially one that has to do with how often he’d like to fuck you, you go with it, people.)
Me: LOL. Not giving you a hard time. I meant the more you text me the greater the odds are I’ll end up with my clothes off. But I do need to get some sleep.
Northman: Ok, Bunny. Go to sleep, love.
Me: Thanks, honey. Sleep well.
Northman, because he’s an asshole even if he’s the sexiest thing on two legs: And try not to think about how much I want to (BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP. Sorry, readers. This shit’s between me and Mr. Northman.) with my fingers and my incredibly (Insert Jeopardy music here.) and then take your (How ‘bout them Chargers?) before I kiss you goodnight.
Me: Aaaaaand now I’ll be up for another hour. I will get you for that.
Northman: I certainly hope so.
And that’s why I love that man. Or at least lust him like crazy.
So I slept fucking GREAT, and I got up, properly praised Mr. Coffee, and sat down to check my site stats all before my kids got up to find George. This was thanks to my neighbor and his fucking Harley. There are noise regs for a reason, asshole! Yes, you gotta get to work. No, you don’t have to rev it like that. But it’s my New Year’s resolution to not have the neighbors think I’m a crazy person (anymore), so I got a head start on that crap by not running out in my Tweety Bird slippers to yell at that inconsiderate asshole.
Anyway, so I poured my coffee and sat on the back porch with my iPad and a really fucking heavy blanket because it’s freezing but I like it because I’m weird like that and it’s just so nice and quiet out back in the winter. And I checked my site stats. Can I just say this? Do you people sleep? Holy shit on a shingle, web dwellers. That’s some ego-boosting shit right there. I used to blog about parenting, and I was lucky to get 600 hits in 6 months. I guess a hell of a lot more people want to read about barking men, shaved (and not!) pussies, being propositioned for sex by your (I realized left this part out: young, hot) girlfriend for her husband’s benefit, or misusing Skype video conferencing for completely inappropriate (and awesome) purposes. Well, you know what? That’s freaking awesome, and I salute you with my coffee. Thanks.