The last two days I’ve been missing in action. I fell down a huge deep hole called the stomach flu, this horrible place where you don’t shower because all you are doing is wiping shitty butts and holding out pans for children to vomit in.
I know I’ve posted my text conversations with Stacia before…I think this might be the third time. Enough times to let you feel glad you are not the person I engage in texting with, and not quite enough for you to tire of it completely.
First, I must admit I have been on a strange kick where I like to text my friends and ask them inappropriate questions about sexual partners. A fun game of “Would You Rather?”. This is what you will be reading about here. These guys we’re talking about in our conversation - from twenty years ago at East High School – I’m sure they’ve never heard of Her Ace in the Hole, and I’m also fairly certain they would tell me to get this shit off here if they did.
But if someone wrote about me and said they desire to feel me up, I would totally take it as a compliment instead of filing a restraining order.
As a side note, the guy Joe (we called him Joey in high school) was the cool student body president when I was a sophomore with horrible braces. The kind of metal braces that wrap all the way around EACH TOOTH. I had a huge crush on him. He was this smirky smart guy with a great nose (I really liked his nose) who looked very Jewish in a state of not so many Jews. I’m not sure if he’s actually Jewish or not. I like to think he is. And of course he had no idea who I was and he probably still doesn’t.
Again, I’m sure this is for the best.
Beck is Stacia’s darling red-headed crazy-ass son.
When I say at the end of the conversation I HOPE I EMBARRASSED MY HUSBAND I was speaking of our dinner out the night before Lotoja. I’m pretty sure I accomplished that.
Happy hump day. If you want me to add you to my inappropriate text list, send me your digits.
Stacia may soon tire of being the only one on the roster.