I just sent the following picture to the kids, to tell them that the empty nest means letting it all hang out and not giving a crap anymore:
There was serious concern from Will: “Jesus. What. Why?”
Well. Not really. Not yet.
We’re getting new carpet in our bedroom tomorrow so we had to take everything out.
And getting something as trivial as new carpet can be dangerous because before you know it, you’re remodeling the entire fucking house again. Excuse my Swahili.
Our bed, the mattress which you see in the above picture, had become a little lumpy after twenty years of use, and I’ve noticed that when I get up in the morning, I feel aches and pains which I don’t feel when I sleep in other beds. Like the waterbed my hipster boyfriend owns.
So Jon and I walked into a Sleep Number showroom on Sunday and we were steeling ourselves against the used car salesman’s talk. We tried out several beds– they had a screaming deal and I had a screaming orgasm just lying on those beds– no qualms, no, with the pedestrians peeping in. Didn’t I tell you I’m letting it all hang out?
OMG. Those beds aren’t beds. They’re smartbeds. They’re the kind of beds that make you want to go to bed and stay in bed.
Not sure where we’re sleeping tonight, but I need to go. Long day.
I’m going to start a new feature in these blogs to liven things up a bit: the word of the day. This may be a word I hear on the work floor, a word I pick up, while reading or a word that’s just one of my favorites.
The word I heard today on the work floor was bag of dicks. This word usually has a an immediate comedic effect, and call me twisted, but when someone drops that beauty I literally see a bag, one of those large mailbags they used to (still use?) at the Dutch postal services, filled with flesh-colored dildos. Perfect.
As I look up to think of a clever ending, I see our old saggy mattress staring at me: it’s a total bag of dicks.
See ya tomorrow. Stay safe and laugh. Always. Laugh.