Feel like shit today. Sore, scratchy throat. Can't get warm. We all have the same thing. I was going to go work out, but PHF said, "Honey, you look like crap." Nothing like honesty to kill any remaining love in a marriage. Maybe I'll move to Australia. ;P
Or, Chicago. Or, LA. (Hiya, Jack and Greg. I know, I've been neglecting you.)
Sorry, Krypto, even the prospect of coaxing you out of your reinstated virginity can't take me to that icy wasteland you call home.
He's right, though. I do look like crap, all pale and shit.
And I got to go to the girl dr. today for a check up. Yea. No big deal, right? Let's see how you like getting a couple of serving spoons stuck in your business while chatting about the new gym and the price of gas.
So I made up for it by spending the rest of the day writing. I wrote some semi-decent sex, I think. That Aidan really gets it going on. Made me horny, anyway.
If you're super-sweet, I'll consider posting it.
Ok, that's a lie. But the rest was Truth.
(Editor's note: The author has failed to clarify the 60/40 Truth rule. The rule is as follows: This blog, Sex Scenes at Starbucks, will subscribe to a MINIMUM 60% truth rule. As of this writing the author hovers around a 90% Truth/10% bullshit average. But, everything she says about Cryptic is Truth.)