Dear gay,
I'll have you know i'm in year seven of my marriage. (granted, that's equal to one year of living on separate continents, three years of living together, and three years of separation/divorce proceedings.) Anyway, marriage is awesome. My husband is awesome. My next husband will probably be even more awesome. yay love!
i, too, look forward to registering for gifts, a process of unbridled and flagrant greed and consumerism that i was denied during my first nuptials, due to the time constraints of only being engaged for eight days.
Also: i was just transcribing an interview i recorded and, upon review, i noticed the subject referred to her son as a hunk. (my response: "Pardon me, ma'am, while i puke behind your sofa.") but what ever happened to the term 'hunk'? i mean, i admittedly do still pull it out occasionally when your dad asks me to, usually during foreplay on the desk in your childhood bedroom - but i certainly don't hear it as much now as i did, say, in 1987. i'm glad it's gone. but where'd it go?
it's like ralph benmergui. he used to host, like, every news magazine show on CBC and Newsworld. and then he was totally gone. which is great, 'cause i hate him. and i never thought of him. until this a.m., when i had to change the radio station in the rental car on the way to work because the reception was crappy and funky ko medina kept breaking in and interrupting the CBC morning news. so i flipped over to 'Jazz FM', and there he was. 'Benmurgui in the Morning' on jazz fm.
thank god for cbc. i would not want to wake up with benmergui. he strikes me as the kind of guy who sleeps naked except for a t-shrit, then gets up and makes you orange juice from frozen concentrate and offers you some, all the while casually wearing no pants.
no thank you, sir.
10-4,
spank
