Yes, yes, I know…two posts in a row about fucking novelty bedding. It also should be noted that my sweet, brilliant, rational boyfriend goes completely ape-shit nerd when discussing some sort of controversy regarding whether Han Solo or Greedo shot first in the original movies. It has come up roughly three million times.
Me: Liam is spending his first night in his new Star Wars sheets.
Ryan: Do they make those for a queen-sized bed? I’m asking for a friend.
Me: Yes, but would you really be comfortable getting off in front of Han?
Ryan: It’ll be the first time he didn’t shoot first.
Me: Fine, but if you start making ‘pew pew’ noises during climax, I’m going to be super put off.
As some of you know, in all my infinite spare time, I do some volunteer work for LGBT youth. I hadn’t been able to see this one kid in awhile, who was really struggling, because his parents are traditional, old-school Mormons, and he was deeply closeted, and he wasn’t sure they wouldn’t hurt him or throw him out.
Me: “Heyyyyy!!! I haven’t seen you in ages! How are you!?”
Brayden: (cringing) “Good and bad…I came out to my mom.”
Me: “WHAT!? Oh, wow, are you okay?”
Brayden: “Well, I’m apparently a ‘disappointment’ and a ‘failure’.”
Me: “Arrrrrrrgh, I’m so sorry. But no violence, right? And you’re still living at home?”
Brayden: “Yeah, but I’m grounded.”
Me: “You’re grounded…for being gay.”
Brayden: “Pretty much.”
Me: “What are you grounded from?”
Brayden: “Dick? I’m pretty sure, I’m grounded from dick.”
Okay, this is truly pathetic…I mean to post this when it happened in March, so bear with me, and pretend that it’s St. Patrick’s Day, and excuse me for being, apparently, so drunk that I’m just getting around to hitting the ‘publish’ button.
Me: (Sending picture)
Ryan: Lick of the Irish? That sounds like the makings of an excellent evening.
Me: This is why we’re together.
(Five minutes later…)
Ryan: Order whatever you want on it, the kids will eat it.
Ryan: Damn it, disregard, this is what happens when I text you and my mom at the same time. She and I were trying to figure out what kind of pizza to order for dinner.
Me: Just be happy you texted me about pizza, and didn’t text her about your cunnilingus skills.
Ryan: Yeah, nothing kills the mood more than talking to your mom about giving head. That’s the anti-viagra.
Me: That will never be on a Cialis ad.
Ryan: If it were, it would be two side-by-side bathtubs with one of them falling over a cliff.