The problem with pants on Erin is that they slide off her MIRACULOULSY SMOOTH ASS.
Wash ,'The Message'
Spike's Bitches 31: We're Motivated Go-getters.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
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)
{{{{JZ}}}} Everything I try to write comes out wrong, but you support us all the time, and it's only fair that you should vent at least a leeetle when on enforced bedrest. I tell you, although it sounds lovely in theory (time to read! time to watch tv! Ooh, DVDs!), every single person I've known who was on bed rest hated it. If you weren't frustrated right now, you wouldn't be the fun, active, wonderful person that we all know and love.
Which all came out wrong again, I'm sure, but I hope you know what I mean.
Also, for our librarians and others, there was a neat article in the LA Times on Sunday: [link]
My life experience says probably. As do the huge number of "keep it hard," spam.
aw, JZ. I'm sorry. I can only imagine the awful helplessness you are feeling both physically and mentally. This is very tough, and don't feel bad about it feeling that way.
Love ya, beautiful. {{JZ}}