There is a goat in my garbage disposal

Today was laundry day, good thing too because I was down to holey undies and shirts from the 8th grade. I did 7 loads. I guess that’s a lot… all of my and lovebunny’s clothes and towels in 7 neat little piles all over my living room floor. It’s an organized mess. And I’m watching Kill Bill because when I do laundry, I’m in a kickass mood. I don’t know how that works but yeah. I shove some clothes into the bottom dryer (the top ones are way too high to be convenient for a person of my awesomeness, so I settle for the ease of sticking my ass in the air as I push socks and PJs into the really too small machine, fucking hell they are ripping us off, $1.75 per load and it’s half the size of a normal unit, fuck you apartment washing and drying facilities, fuck you in your minuscule washing and drying holes that barely fit all my shit. That was an awful sentence. It was way too long and I had the beginning of parentheses up there but I never closed it and it’s too late to fix now. I suck and I apologize.

Along with laundry day it was also load the dishwasher day. A day that should come more often, preferably before I have to eat mashed potatoes with chopsticks or bear the shame of stuffing my face with a spatula. Not that I wouldn’t. if there’d been no chopsticks for stuck-up utensil sensibilities, I’d have taken that spatula. Anything for you, mashed potatoes. Anything to have your delicious and creamy thickness in my tummy. Is it just me, or did that sound sexual? Perhaps I meant it to be, nothing will ever come between me and my potatoes. Nothing. Stop trying, you will never compare to the sweet lovely tastiness that touches my tongue in the instant we are near. You are no match and will never bring to me the butterfly stomach happiness that potatoes do. Another bad thing about waiting so long is it smells like I killed a goat and stuffed it down the garbage disposal. I probably cut it up first. A goat would definitely not fit in my garbage disposal hole but there it is. Stinking on everything.

Hmm. I meant for this to be longer, some epic tale that would leave you crying, laughing, longing for my sexy ways, maybe a little confused and uncomfortable but don’t worry I won’t pressure you. Our time will be magical and sticky like all good first times should be. And you’ll blush and stammer and I’ll push my finger to your face and shhhhh, no talkey, this will be amazing honey-butt. And I promise, once I’ve finished and had a soda, maybe some more mashed potatoes and watched Family Guy, because you know I love that show, I promise I’ll come back and you can finish too. I’m sensitive to your feelings like that.