Sometimes, my sweet hubby gets a little pissy about my friendship with Sal and Paul. It’s usually after a conversation with his sister that includes her disapproval, but I’m not supposed to know that. Most of the time, he has no problem with it, they’ve been my friends since I was 16 years old and he knows both of them well, but since my husband’s sister is of the belief that men only talk to a girl because they want to get in her pants and she is a shit stirrer, occasionally, Geno feels threatened. If he would just remember that he 1- has a penis and 2-22 years is a long time to wait for some booty, we wouldn’t have these lovely little chats.
So when my little love muffin came home today I told him that Paul and I had one of our daily chats that he worries about. Today’s topics included Paul’s paranoia over possibly being fired, wearing a burka at the beach and how he has making hard boiled eggs down to a science. You know, so the shell peels right off and the yoke is yellow not green or grey? Hot stuff, right? Add in the fact that when I had the most horrifying/ humiliating surgical procedure of my life, I called those two momos from the parking lot of the surgi center. Trust me, no one who is having impure thoughts about someone calls that someone to describe to them in detail how you just had rectal surgery. That is NOT a turn on. So don’t worry, puppy, I’m all yours.
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