I’m away this weekend with my womenfolk.
Not all of my womenfolk mind you. Many of my first loves live out of state. They left me for husbands which was really fucking inconsiderate of them.
However, there are a few of us who have men we bore children to that get to run off together every once in a while.
We drink various libations, dance in gay clubs and allow gay strippers to occasionally lick 5 dollar bills out of our cleavage (it wasn’t me! … of course, I do have multiple personality disorder).
Then we come back to the house rental having drunk enough vodka to keep a small Cossack village afloat and arm wrestle each other.
I win unless I’m wrestling The German. She can take me down to China Town if she wants. From time to time, she lets me win so I’ll feel better about my middle-aged Inshuligan.
Here are our Indian names.
- Kelly — Kicking Your Butt
- Diane — Dances With Poodle
- Claudia — Stands With A Yoga Mat
- Me — Wind In Her Colon
I’ll be back on Monday.
In the meantime, I must repost my latest video (written and edited by me for crying out loud) because it makes me laugh. Is it wrong to crack yourself up?
Are you gone fishing? If so, where?