ass clowns

the things i will endure for hanging with this man...

i need rituals. i need to dress up like a witch doctor and jump around my living room furniture yelling "shakka lakka zoom zoom"...basically a gal needs d hang out nights. i need them like big bertha needs a bra. i need them like my hair needs gel. this girl needs scheduled d time!

i called the witch doctor he told me what to do...

so many moons ago i wrote a post alerting the masses that d was abandoning our monday night rituals--jumping the heroes ship if you will.
i squeezed my nose, held my breath and followed shortly after, but beloved d missed my "i'll kick you in the piss pump" threats, occasional toot sounds and duck laughs so ritual night was brought back from the depths of the ocean. fist pump to chest!

...and a new ritual was born.

i realized while we were planning our next big watchapalooza that i'm kind of a bossy jenkins in regards to entertainment so being the kind and oh-so-gentle friend that i am, i let d suggest something. the ass clown chose a show i never wanted to get involved with...true blood. i personally wanted to start watching dexter but what ev...i secretly like cultivating d's ass clown-ness.

d was totally into it. i'd like to give him some partial manly man points--there were naked chicks occasionally. that could have been part of the allure...

the rules were simple. we'd watch the first two episodes and if they were cool we'd invest. if we were twitching at the end of each one then we'd move on to my choice. unfortunately, the ass clown won and i hopped into the little ass clown car.

he said ting tang walla walla bing bang...

yes...i mock the show initially...

but then i come around...ahhh how i missed tv night with d! please excuse the fact that i look like a crackhead broke arse chick. this is what marathon training at night does to a gal!


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