I take it to understand that because I was using my outside voice INSIDE to my husband, he has now relegated me to writing (oh no please don't throw me into that briar patch!) but I then cursed him with picking the topic. He actually said something about "losing" and "marbleS." I choose to be selective in my word choice. As I always seem to do - I'll bring my beloved FORMERLY known as husband T into the topic - he had feet that were so creepy - never ever saw the sun perfectly alabaster that I repeatedly said he had the feet of a god (lesser known - god of jack and coke I think it was) and looked like they were made of MARBLE. ding that's one.
I love marble. When T was a much younger man and I still had nice tits he worked on a house that I guess the demons burned to the ground - yeah that's a WHOLE nuther post. HotTubs and demons and lesbians and well, marble. Oh my.
This house that um - was (past tense) - was in Sort of Waukesha - kinda. It was a house owned by hands down one of the nicest men on the planet who married a beyond stupid crazy person. She only got worse from stupid. In fact I'll name Colleen L. as hands down crazy b of the century. must be the name.
BUT then they revamped their house a bit. T helped. He learned some cool mad construction skills he never fucking used again.
um, only kinda kidding. BUT they pretty much slapped marble on every inch of space that would hold it. That bitch STILL burned to the ground. I understand the pool survived. I guess demons like a pool party like the rest of us. I did naked butt slides on that deck. my butt is still nice bravo tango whiskey. not that you asked. ding that's two
I won't actually bring up why marbles came up in the first part because it involves PMS (mine) and it's painful and mine. I choose to just suck up my personal pain each and every 3 weeks that has frankly begun to make being male look suddenly appealing. I like being a girl for about 5 minutes each month and then I hate it the rest of the time. yes I've been tested. Yes I have healthy levels of whatever. NO, I don't have cancer. okay. beautiful. I won't die. I just want to.
I don't actually know what's wrong and/or why. I know it's not me being a baby since I've run miles on broken toes and had very small people exit my nether regions sans pain meds AND done crazy thing like run 26 miles on purpose. So I do know my pain tolerance is pretty good. I don't actually know what more to do. I really DO like my girl parts in their respective places. So hey pulling them out for fun - really isn't a good suggestion to me personally. I'm not sure. All I know is every 3 weeks or so I hate life-hate people- hate my body (It gains about 5 lbs in water) and my thoughts become (shockingly!) not mine. and then I have a horrific (think Carrie!) 7 days and THEN I'm me again. all systems back to normal.
It's getting worse each year. I really don't quite know what to do. I guess I need to talk to the Dr. again. but what do I say. I'm a girl. I keep being a girl. and It's getting more - well - girl like.
That does make me sound like I'm losing my marbles. doesn't it? ladies. help please. I thank you - and all those within 20 feet of me during that time - thank you in advance. I know they would if they knew who was behind the wheel. ding that's the third. I win! :D Roger pay up!
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