Last night a reader left me a comment after this post.
It reads:
Anonymous said...
Depending on how our summer goes, we could cut out the middle trip. Instead of jellyfish, it could be a bee sting. Or you could just pee on my leg, y'know, just cuz.
I've decided not to sign my proposal. You can deduce/guess who it is and judge by his reaction whether or not your powers of deduction are up to snuff.
- 12:30
Sounds like fun!
Let's see, witty use of English language, I had someone in mind until the "his reaction" comment. It is not Mom, Rach, Kimmy, Sue, Jan, Siobh, Stace, Krista or Rhonda.
Words like "cuz" and "snuff" used in conjunction with "deduce" and "deduction" in the same sentence tell me the man in question is bright, but does not proofread. It is not Pokey.
"Our summer" suggests either the inclusion of another family member(s) this is not Junior (sorry man, not our fault you can't...y'know...seal the deal).
The time of comment gives little on its own, but in concurrence with the facts I have presented provides a clear picture of my mystery man. It is not Gil, 12:30 is snooze time. There was also a lack of ...'s.
Eeyore wouldn't bother, Polo don't care, K-Man has the quick wit, nevertheless the fact is that 12:30 rules out my Ontarian child toting friends.
So, my wordy, bright, witty friend; who I may or may not see this summer, with your brood, who is up late on the computer (taking into consideration the time differential), who has at one time or another considered letting me pee the pain of a jellyfish or bee bite away. I welcome your challenge and conclude that 'tis none other than Den (boner), whose internet provider is Shaw cable from a location in Northern Edmonton, whose out click was the comments window from 12:25 ish to 12:30ish.
Now for a Shakespearean bitch slap:
Thou tottering spur-galled hedge-pig!
Thou tottering dread-bolted pumpion!
Oh I got a million of 'em.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
Twas not I - if I am up at 1230 it is either to pee, or puke, or take my dear hubby to the hospital to stitch up a gushing eye wound. The joy of pregnancy, and alcoholism...
LOL, that WAS a good weekend, I'm still convinced you decked the poor S.O.B.
If it was me he would have needed more than 2 stitches!
Ok. I have long hoped that J would pee on my leg. It stems from the days when we slept together under the flannel sheets and the brown and brown checkered comforter.
All those years, all that sleep, and never, I mean, NEVER a single drop of pee.
So I anonymously hoped he would finally pick me.
Sorry J. You'll see. The warm golden shower is more gratifying than you think. Just wait for it.
This just got weird! No really though, just now!
Post a Comment