oh well, it's not like they've seen me mostly naked.
oh, um... i mean...
crap. keep reading.
further evidence: i have started in with the all encompassing concern for Miyagi's well being. does he get enough rest? should he drink more water? does he have a 401k?
my big uncontrollable mouth:
don't forget your money on the counter.
are you hungry? i can go get you dinner.
do you want me to help with that?
do you want me to call and remind you?
you should be our roommate! then i could make you lasagna all the time! it would be so fun!
just yesterday i baked cookies for him, because gosh darn it, he's just so nice! and i was overcome with pride as he gobbled them up like an adorable, bald-headed, ex-gang banging, cookie-eating monster.
but not anything like the cookie monster. because clearly the cookie monster is still in his gang. oscar's not the only hoodlum on sesame street.
anyway, as he was enjoying them, i found myself worrying that this was his dinner. and good grief! a nice boy like that can't just have cookies for dinner.
plus i'm seriously considering inviting him to thanksgiving. in fact, i'm pretty sure i already did. hi jay! hope you make it!
the reason we have been spending so much time there is because Boy's sleeve is in flux (flux!) and *takes deep breath, then explodes from trying desperately to conceal her excitement* work has begun on masking TheUglyThing. work that (unfortunately for me, but quite fortunately for frat boys everywhere) means i cannot wear a bra. because the totally nifty thingie that is being tattooed into my side? *swats away hands trying to lift up shirt and peek at TheUglyThingBecomingLessUgly because they will not be seeing it till it is done* anyway, the thingie? it's HUGE. it's like i'm getting a sleeve too. but on my hip. and ribs. and under my left boobie. and pretty much in my armpit.
how, you ask, does Miyagi get all up in there? well, the answer to that is easy. i lay there in the middle of the shop with half my pants pulled down pube-showing low**, holding my breasts in with either a flimsy bikini top, or my own bare hands. for several hours at a time.
and not only do i pay him for this, but also make him food stuffs and voice my concern for his financial future and eternal soul loudly, in public, and on this here worldwideweb!
today's math lesson:we should totally have our own show.money + tattoos + free food + adoring fans + boobies = day in the life of my new best friend, Miyagithus:
money + tattoos + free food + adoring fans + boobies = day in the life of my new favorite reality tv star, tommy leeMiyagi = rockstar.
*and by actual, i really do mean actual.
**remember the debilitating bikini wax? yeah. don't worry. we'll get there.