Hey guess where I am???

The e-husband called me today and he was at Rincon. He went with his parent who were going anyway and invited him along. When he called I was pondering the consequences of knocking the boys heads together. Would they fall backwards and possible be quiet for a little while- or just scream louder. It was a toss up. Between their fighting of cars, refusing to eat what they BEGGED me to make for dinner, and me just trying to put down a cup of coffee while browsing sex blogs, my hands were a bit full.

So when e-husband called and said he was at Rincon, and having a great time, lets just say I was less than excited for him. Gee, e-husband, I'm glad that you can get out and have some kid free fun?? What's THAT like?

E-husbands first hospitalization, 11 days back in 2000, was spent first detoxing and then getting all his food via IV since his pancreas was shot to fuck. By day 5, he was dreaming about food. I had taken time off of work, and would go out and grab lunch, and then go back to the hospital with fast food burgers, fries etc. And eat it, right in front of him. His poor IV'ed ass could just watch me. At the time I didn't notice the seething in his eyes. And really, at that point I already felt justified to make him suffer. But I realized later that it was kind of a crappy thing to do.

Well, I think we are even on that one now!!


Here's another Valentines Gift to give, in case you guys can't think of something on the fly because it's 4PM on the 14th and you thought you could just swing by the flower store- ha, WRONG!!! It's better than those lame LOVE coupons. This is one that I think she might like to cash in, cause really, everyone wins and she won't hear you groan when she actually WANTS that 1 hour massage you promised via coupon.



You know, it's Valentines day this week I was gonna blog this week about LOVE... Not love, like anxiety ridden, tear your heart out, internal bleeding love- but you know, well love related crap, or why I have given up on love and decided to trade it in for mindless sex with random partners. You know, good love stuff. Dirty love. My favorite.

Speaking of Dirty Love, here's a new kind of love song. I love Jack Black. Not work safe.