here's a riddle for ya--
if the furniture in your kitchen is mission style,
and the furniture in your bedroom is mission style,
and these are your two favorite rooms...
what does that say about you?
all I know is it doesn't mean I prefer missionary position!
so, speaking of missionaries...
this book I'm reading is really intense.
It's like I have finally found support for my beliefs--
or non-beliefs, I guess.
Lack of, absence of belief in the church of my youth.
It's nice to see it more clearly, from a historical perspective,
from an outsider's perspective.
the polygamy stuff is just...eye-opening.
and really really sad...
most of the women are forced into it, and they marry men at least twice their age.
I am, however, rather tempted to start a religion based on polyandry...
lordy, what I could do with 4 or 5 husbands!!!
Me, like a queen, the ruler of all.
they could shower me with love and affection all day,
and I could choose from the gourmet menu of lovers for each night...
who's with me?
I hear there's some cheap land in Montana!!
Queens Compound, here we come!
yeah, yeah, it would never work.
...but a girl can dream, can't she?
oh, fuck off, I can too.
I decided that my new theme song is "Rise", by The Cult.
this means it should be kept on standby, so that whenever I make an entrance,
it can be played at full volume.
It should also be played while reading this blog, so please download it and keep it handy.
I would reccomend that you download the lyrics and memorize them, both forward and backward, so that you can be ready to recite them on command.
but, damn I love that song.
my kids love it when my husband plays "tackle" with them--
tickling and nearly suffocating them with pillows, and body slamming them onto our bed, etc.
good, old fashioned horseplay.
we were having an afternoon romp--door locked, etc.
and they came to the door.
asked us if we would come see the train track they had built "when you're done playing tackle".
yup, that's what we're doing kids!!!
praise the lord for that excuse!
much better than the, "Mommy, does it hurt when daddy spanks you?"
"daddy doesn't hurt mommy..."
ok, and on that note, my handsome non-stranger is done with the work he brought home, so that means, fuck you guys, I'm going to BED!!!!