Well heck. I just went from zero to DO AS I SAY NOW ASSERTIVE on someone over the phone. Regarding work stuff. I had three folks come over and applaud when I hung up.
Not sure where that came from.
[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.
Well heck. I just went from zero to DO AS I SAY NOW ASSERTIVE on someone over the phone. Regarding work stuff. I had three folks come over and applaud when I hung up.
Not sure where that came from.
FAT CALIPERS? WTF?
Yeah, that. Son's coach does that stuff. He is like 3% or something. Jock. I told him the words fat percentage and mom do not belong in the same sentence. He usually gets when I am absolute about something.
I can see my husband demanding to use the fat calipers on me, though he'd phrase it because he's passionately interested in my health and he needs this information. I can also see a big fight when I refuse.
Fat calipers.
Fat calipers.
FAT CALIPERS??
You should take them and measure his fat head.
Agreed with everyone on the insanity of the fat calipers. DH needs some schooling on womenfolk.
Fat calipers? FAT CALIPERS? Take out a ruler and tell him you need to measure his dick.
Or, y'know, not.
Fat calipers? FAT CALIPERS?! I ... nope, no words, just blinking (and angry on your behalf) confusion.
Kara's been wanting a bunny. She's getting one. It's about a half inch tall with a bobble head.
Kara wants a bunny, huh? Clovis just waggled his ears in glee, so I think he's plotting something.
All of you suffering Cramps O' Doom have my sympathy, and I wish I could send you all a box of Feminax. (The UK version of Midol, which blessedly contains codeine.) Mind you, I almost think I'd rather have Cramps O' Doom instead of the crying meltdown I had last night. I suspect the hormonal mood-swings are getting worse.
Upon further reflection on the Great Fat Calipers Fiasco of 2006, I feel Raq's DH requires a warning of things not to say.
Things Raq's DH Should Not Say To Her
"Honey, can you count the lines around your eyes? We've got new imaging software at work and I want to see what you'll look like in five years."
"Oh never mind about that line count. I took a picture of you in harsh unflattering light with the high def camera while you were sleeping and I've forwarded it to my secretary. She'll count the lines for you and then forward it to the lab."
"Wow, that haircut was a real mistake, huh?"
"Is your painful and debilitating crotch ailment fixed yet? My sexual needs haven't been met lately."
"Do we really need to pack up all these old beautiful dresses for the move? Are you really ever going to be able to fit into them again?"
"Hey, remember when you were cute? I was just reminded because I'm going to be judging a wet t-shirt contest after work."
That list could also be conveniently labeled, "Things Over Which Murder Would Seem Perfectly Logical."
Hec reminded me of what a friend of mine's now ex-husband once said to her after she asked him what he was looking at:
Just noticing how you've aged.