Dear BF, my people,
You are a kind person and a good friend. And I am eternally grateful for our friendship. Thank you for feeding my cat when I am away (can you feed him tomorrow morning, please? I think Carlos has got keys for my house). Thank you for waxing me. Thank you for drinking wine with me - even when it's just over the phone. Thank you for being generally kiff.
Most of the time, I love you.
Today is not one of such days. My feelings for you are teetering on the precipice between dislike and hate. I have picked up your bug. And couldn't eat breakfast (sure, the establishment hasn't quite mastered the soft egg and I had to mush it on my toast using garden tools). And have been in bed all day. And not in a sexy kind of way.
Please would you remain healthy for the rest of your natural life so as to protect me from the chick-flu depression. I might require life support to see me through your latest bug.
But I sure as hell ain't missing Games' Night With Trashy Make-Up tonight. So, to those of you who are attending this event, please do not try and stick your tongue down my throat. I know many of you will battle to refrain from doing so. But please - will-power is the new black. It's not that I'm not keen to get amorous with you - I most certainly am - I just don't think you could handle this brush with death. It's hideous.
And, please, also, all you fellow Craniumers, don't think I'm making up some feeble excuse prior to said event in the unlikelihood that My Future Ex-Husband Who Has Less Than No Desire To Actually Caress My Inner Thigh and I might lose.
It ain't going to happen, suckers. The Pant and Her Man rock Games' Night With Trashy Make-Up like nobody's business. All over your faces.
Oh, and BF, my people. Hope your eyes are feeling better. My mom always said, "Watching too much porn will give you pink eye."
Is there anything you want to tell me? Like, what's hot at the mo?
PS You still rock. Because you are my people.