Wow! I haven't had two men fighting over me since high school. Though I'm not sure if it counts if one of the men is gay and the other already belongs to you. Oh well.
Before I went into surgery, I actually read Patrick's first two posts. So, while I was all gussied up in my hospital gown and waiting to be put under I said to my husband, "Don't read my blog for a while. I asked Patrick to guest blog...and...well...just don't read it. I think it will piss you off. Okay?"
Cut to two days later while we're waiting for the doctor to release me.
Tuna Man: I read you blog.
Me: Uh oh.
Tuna Man: Patrick is funny.
Me: You really think so. I didn't think you'd appreciate his humor.
Tuna Man: Well, it's not my type of humor, but I can see that he is funny.
*pause*
Tuna Man: And we're NOT having any poppers in our house.
Me: *laughing* I know, Honey. Did you really think I would?
Tuna Man: No, but, I don't think it's a good idea to have DRUGS in the house.
Then Patrick made a few more posts.
Tuna Man: We need to have a talk about your blog.
Me: Uh oh! What did I do? I haven't even been blogging. I didn't do anything!
Tuna Man: I know Patrick is your friend and you can say anything you want to him on the phone but I don't appreciate it showing up in your blog for the whole world to see.
(He vastly overrates my readership)
Me: Oh. *racking my brain to remember what was offensive* Um. *still racking* Oh! *remembering* Sorry. Um. I can take it off you know.
Tuna Man: You know, you can say whatever you want to your friends, I don't have to like it, but you can say it, but I really don't like it showing up there.
Me: Um. Sorry.
So the Tuna Man is a little miffed at me. Just a little though. He's used to me by now.
Tuna Pest got me in trouble, you big jerk!
But considering that my husband has said, "I hope you have fun in New York." And while watching me down cup after cup of liquid medicine he said, "I know someone who's doing shots in New York," I don't think he's too mad.
But for the record, Tuna Girl does NOT do shots. As of today, my teeth are still tied together and I'll definitely still be wearing a bite splint in NYC. If I can't drink it through a straw, I can't have it, period. And I ain't drinking no Irish Car Bombs through a straw!
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