Probably not wise. You're a bit of a sex bomb, and you know what her doctor said.

Well, dang. Hmm. Well, my stern glare is REALLY stern! It's even a Stern Teacher Glare.

Now all y'all's goodness is making me cry.

Don't CRY, JZ!! Then someone will have to comfort you, and that leads to hugging, and then touchin' and squeezin', and first thing you know, you're in Journey/Night Ranger slashfic and that's not good for the baby! In fact, Weenie would be so horrified she'd prolly shoot out of Le Naughty Goolie with mach-force, blow through the wall and land in the Bay.

Um... did Erin put on extra Porny Pants today?

feels need to point at tagline

Now all y'all's goodness is making me cry. And I think I actually needed a good cry, so my brain can start over again all nice and clean and empty. Thank you. I would make out with all of you, except the doctor would probably disapprove.

Awwww... the Bitches re-booted Jacquelyn!

Um... did Erin put on extra Porny Pants today?

HA HA! I have on NO PANTS!

Not even MONKEY PANTS!

The problem with pants on Erin is that they slide off her MIRACULOULSY SMOOTH ASS.

JZ, babe, I feel that stuff...like, continually, more or less. I feel that we have never understood each other very well, but I've never felt closer to you than right now...and it would be fucking great, except bonding over feeling pathetic? Is a little sad. And the whole thing where I don't get to give birth and reclaim at least a portion of my life, but...is too much.

The problem with pants on Erin is that they slide off her MIRACULOULSY SMOOTH ASS.

Le sigh. I'm afraid I've been a butt-buffing slacker.

Resolved: I shall take the salt box into the shower with me, and oil and salt my ass prodigiously tonight!!

(Huh. If I could work some vinegar into that particular bathing ritual, I could corner the market on vinaigrette porn...)

Now I'm afraid I've re-depressed JZ, instead of making her feel the solidarity and sworn bunkitude. "And the bear says "You didn't come here to hunt, did you?"

Hey, erika, you're still up on me.

I've been sitting here thinking of ways to integrate vinegar into my shower, and have come down on the side of cider-vinegar rinse for the hair as opposed to vinegar douche.

I need to be working on my curriculum, and I got salad porn.

Erin, quick. Shake your finger at erika.

And what kind of gassy nasty bitch whines at her husband about not folding his T-shirts when he has a book contract, an already-spent advance, and an iron-clad deadline hanging over his head (plus 50% custody of a high-energy child for whom he is now the sole caretaker during that 50%, on top of the bedbound bitch and the book contract)? I just feel like a completely shitty, useless hausfrau vampire.

Oh! I know this one! A pregnant one who is confined to bedrest where she can't help but see the clutter and dust, in a house where a writer, and a 10 year old boy are the other residents (and they may well define clutter and dust differently).

I wouldn't worry about the dreams, JZ. I think there's a large enough physiological difference between an erotic dream and an erotic human male (at least I hope so, for Hec's sake, and for your you-won't-always-be-pregnant sake)