Bad Influences

I am in a much better mood now, guys. Thanks for all of your concern. A handful of things happened yesterday that just made me laugh out loud.

Shall I share?

Aaron called during my son's nap time yesterday. We talked for quite a while and he was cracking me up. But after about a half hour, my son came out of his room and curled up in my lap. I happened to be sitting in front of my computer and my screensaver happened to be displaying random pictures from the My Pictures folder.

I said to Aaron, "Aww. Little Tuna Boy is all snuggled up and watching the pictures on my screensaver. Oh shoot. You know what? Not all of those pictures are G rated."

Recently, some bloggers have felt the need to send me pictures of naked men. But please...no more naked pictures. I have enough pictures of dick to last me until...well...a couple of days at least. (Embarrassing pictures of bloggers wearing funny hats and holding beer bottles over their stuff will still be accepted.)

At that exact moment, before I even had a chance to move the mouse, up popped a picture of a ten-inch dick. (No really. It is that big.)

I quickly turned my chair and hugged my son so he couldn't see it.

"Oops. Figures!" I exclaimed to Aaron. "And it was ten inches too."

"Don't worry," Aaron replied. "I'll be here for him when he comes out. Though with that size, I don't know. It might scare him straight forever."

I think I agree with him.

And I think I need to move my Naked Bloggers folder out of the My Pictures folder. I'm on it.

Later that night Patrick called.

Now, Patrick has this habit of just making a point as soon as I say hello.

"Hell--"

"Tonight is going to be a masturbatory night."

"Excuse me?"

"Tonight is going to be a double-fisted, pud-pounding, masturbatory night."

"Ummm..he's not here right now. Can I take a message?"

An hour later Patrick called me on my cell phone.

"Hell--"

"Don't believe a word your babysitter tells you about me."

Yup. You guessed it. He was talking dirty to my 16-year-old babysitter because he thought she was me. And he didn't even realize until an hour later that he had crank called the poor girl.

What makes me laugh is that I know his penchant for outrageous greetings and I had made a point to tell him that I'd have a babysitter.

This is the same babysitter who watched the kids the night Patrick and I went out. She must think I'm having one red hot affair while my husband is away. Poor girl. She didn't say a word about it though.

The next time Patrick wants to tell me about his pud-pounding neighbor (Have you seen this guy?), I think he'll establish my identity first.