Scared Bunny

You are probably asking yourself, “Why is it this bastard went over 2 months without writing a damn fucking thing, and here he is with a second post in one day?”

Remember when I said I got married? Well, she is a hot bitch and I love to fuck her brains out. The thing that REALLY turns her on the most is when I write something. And if it’s really funny I get freaky sex. So, after trying some Agavero, I have a slight buzz, and she is feeling a little frisky. We were just looking up foreign toasts to say when we took a shot (having already used up salud, prosit and la’chaim). And it seems the use of the computer gets her hot, and the sound of typing gets her even hotter. So she asked me to write something funny, and that really got her motor running. I am betting a belly laugh will even get me anal.

I am not even sure what to write about. I hate to trot out one of these great stories for a second post in the same day. It’s not like anyone will read it and I hate to waste a good one. Plus, the best place to start is a REALLY funny story. It would truly suck to have that story go ignored because it proves that there are actually crazy women in this world I have not and will not date. In fact, one of the crazy women is one I actually declined to date instead choosing the woman who has become the love of my life.

The hard part then is that what is on my mind is not something good to write about. Specifically, I am thinking about what happens when I put down this laptop and see what my wife intends to do with the dick she insists on caressing through my boxers. I have some ideas of what I want to do, but she won’t even give me a hint what she’s thinking until I finish writing. Clearly the type of sex I will be getting is dependant on this entry.

And, frankly, that is a shitload of pressure! Our sex life is great, but there are certain treats that I can’t reasonably expect every day. If I am really fucking funny one or more of those may be on the menu. Hell, she already bemoaned the fact that the pool table isn’t here yet. I can only imagine what she had planned for that. I am even somewhat scared of what she intended to do with the 8-ball, and am, as always, a little intimidated by the cue sticks.

Now, lots of guys out there are thinking “Dude, go for a blowjob”. Well, guys, if you have to get lucky for your woman to give you head, there may be something wrong in your crotch. I suggest shaving and/or bathing, because, frankly, getting Hector a nice kiss on the forehead is not something that is too hard for me to accomplish. I am thinking our woman isn’t too fond of going down there because something down there is amiss. I am not a doctor or anything, but you really should consider getting checked out.

Anyway, I am really stumped here. I may have to just explain something about my job transition. Specifically, I am going to tell you what my former employer had to say. You see they sent me a demand letter. What are they demanding? Well, they want me to reimburse them for insurance and shit like that because they don’t like that I temporarily held 2 jobs. Of course I don’t care for the fact they gypped me out of over $35,000 in commissions, so I guess we’re both unhappy with the way things turned out.

But, you see, they weren’t satisfied just being pissed. They decided it would be a good idea to get access to my new cell phone account. So, in their wisdom, they decided to call the cell company claiming to be me so they could get the account number. But how can they get that information? Isn’t that confidential? In fact, it turns out it is. BUT, if you claim to be me, and pull out my human resources file so you have all my personal information, you can lie to the phone company and they will believe you are, in fact, me!

Yes, a Federally chartered and insured bank decided to illegally use an HR file and to claim to be me to a major cellular company because they didn’t like my legal transfer of the number. I, on the other hand, don’t like someone illegally using my HR info and lying by saying they are me. Oh, and I don’t like getting gypped out of $35,000. So, I have yet to respond to the demand letter. I am guessing that their attorneys may well advise them the last place they want to see me is in court. Then again, maybe they will push it.

I wonder how the CEO would look in stripes? Probably not too good. He may want to be sure to have enough smokes for protection. I hear old white guys are popular in prison.

Where the hell have I been? I know you are wondering that very serious question. I mean, hell, here you are reading this blog but you haven’t had anything good to read for months. I can tell you; it’s not that there has been a lack of subject matter. In fact, there are so many stories just waiting to be told, and I will get to them all. But to tell them all takes time, and I haven’t had the time.

First, there is that special lady in my life. We were married in October. That, of course, gave me a lot more excitement than writing. Heck, I am writing right now because when I give her something to read she gets excited and then we go do those other things that have kept me so busy. I actually have been writing somewhat regularly. It has all been for her though, and only she gets to decide who gets to read it. That kind of sucks for you.

And with my lovely bride comes two wonderful children. They also are very good at keeping me busy. In addition to all the regular things, like sports and school, both are fond of farting. I spend hours every day running away from them. This has been good for my weight, but a little hard on my knees and my nose. Add in my own son, and you have got a serious need for both track shoes and gas masks.

Then, since there just wasn’t enough change in my life, I took a job with a different bank. Basically they will give me a shitload more money, far fewer morons to deal with and the opportunity to actually not be embarrassed by the name of my employer. In exchange I have more work and actually have to go in to an office almost every day. Plus, of course, I have to drive there and back, so I went from a commute that took the 30-seconds it takes to go from bed to the den, to a 45-minute drive dealing with what appear to be the graduates of the first driving school especially for special-ed students. I also have to actually wear something besides jeans and a t-shirt, which I hate but my wife likes.

Finally, because I am truly insane, we also moved in to a bigger house. The bigger house part isn’t crazy. I mean, hell, more people need more room. But moving is something only to be done by those with severe mental instability. It seems that, despite living alone, I had a lot of shit. We actually haven’t had to get much new stuff to fill the house even though it has more rooms and almost 50% more space. All of that had to be loaded in a truck, mostly by my new brother-in-law and myself. And there are so many boxes… I have actually developed a fear of cardboard. My garage is a truly terrifying place, resembling the aisles of Wal Mart the day after Thanksgiving. And since the good people of the City of Fort Worth have decreed how much, or shall I say how little, trash a family is allowed to dispose of, we see little change in this situation as probable for several weeks.

So, short of changing my religion and ethnicity, I think I have changed as much as possible in a 3-month period. All of that change takes a lot of work. And when I’m not working I am usually either resting or trying to get my wife to make funny noises. I particularly enjoy the time we spend making funny noises. I have to say that I would rather be making funny noises than writing for your benefit.

But I will be writing again. Scary Personals will return with a bang. The cult will explore numerous revelations and philosophical issues. And I will tell you how the $21 I spent to wire $1 to Georgia was the best money I ever spent. Additionally, we will explore serious relationship issues, such as why it is a bad idea to get regnant by your sister’s husband, and an even worse idea to then take him back.

So be sure to keep checking in. There will be some great stories. Unless I’m too busy getting laid.