bigpimpinmba's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Did you have to? Did you have to? Did you have to let it Slinger My wife has made up a new term�. Slingering. Apparently, she�s noticed certain individuals, who are obviously not in any way related to her husband, kind of lingering around their wives when they are feeling particularly randy and looking for a little sex. It�s basically the Sex-Linger�. That�s �Slinger� for short. I really don�t know how she has been able to notice these types of behaviors. She must be peeking into the neighbor�s windows during the evenings when the neighbors are obviously slingering around the house before banging like a screen door in a windstorm. I�m sure it was a neighbor. What are you giggling about? � What? � Oh� You don�t believe me that it�s the neighbors? � � All right. You got me. I�m just covering up for my Brother in Law. Slingering around his wife. I mean, who else could she be talking about? Slingering Bastard. �������� My boy is actively potty-training. I know. It seems like I can�t make it through an entry without some sort of bodily function being mentioned. Suck it up. You knew what you were in for� Anyway, the initial potty training stint a few months ago, where we let the little monkey run around naked like Will Ferrell streaking in Old School didn�t end in success, so we are trying again with a non-naked-all-the-time method. Besides, it was getting kind of embarrassing when we had to pick him up as he is running across campus without clothes. I guess he�s just getting ready for real college. Shit. You mean, that, someday, he�s going to be acting like a drunken idiot and running naked across a campus, screaming, �I�m a Viking!!! Look at my helmet!!!�??? � � Awesome. � � Where was I going with this? Oh yeah� Potty training. Unfortunately, I wasn�t home, but had the following story relayed to me by my more than capable wife� We�ve been keeping on top of the little guy to try using the potty and stop �pissing his way out of college� with the cost of those diapers. Well, Wednesday evening, while I was at school, it happened. Mr. Hanky made his first happy appearance in the potty. Little Man sat down for what my wife thought was a peeing session on the bowl. There he is, sitting triumphantly on the bowl, reading his Thomas the Tank Engine book, for about 15 minutes. (Look at that� My boy is already bringing reading material to the throne! That is going to be a great man.) He announces, 15 minutes later, that he was done and starts standing up� My wife says, �Hold on, wait a second for Mommy to come over.� (Mommy apparently does not realize that there is a new visitor in the potty) He looks down and exclaims� �NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!� Not quite ready for the sight of a smelly Baby Ruth to be staring back at him, he was eventually able to be calmed down enough by my wife to complete the wiping ceremony and conclude the festivities with a small eulogy before actually saying, �Goodbye Poopie!� and flushing his brown, nutty friend. That�s right, he�s talking to his poo and wishing it goodbye. Funny shit. � Quite literally. ��..���������� Let�s keep with the bodily functions, shall we? My wife calls me up at work, laughing her ass off. (Or ROT@$*LOL or whatever the cool kids use as slang these days� I guess I should throw a few emoticons or some other crap on there just to show how cool I am) So, she goes on to tell me about our lovely neighbor who brought her little granddaughter over to play with my son for a while. As women do when they get together, they started talking, instead of switching on SportsCenter, grabbing a beer and saying, �Nice Play� and �Sweet Play� and �Awesome Play�. � I�ll never understand women. So our older neighbor, we�ll call her Gertrude, begins telling my wife about how she doesn�t like winter because she isn�t able to get out and walk as much as she is able to in the summer. Gertrude said that she can�t walk too far away from home because of�. You know� She has trouble holding it. And she doesn�t have the luxury of our favorite Piss Boy, Uncle Bob, following her around happily collecting her urine. Our friendly lil� Gertrude told my wife that she has to wear diapers because she often can�t make it back home in time and she has had accidents in the past. It�s not like my wife and our batty neighbor are so close that this isn�t something that she wouldn�t bat an eye at finding it out. This was kind of like having the waiter at the restaurant you go to on a weekly basis tell you that he is having a hard time keeping it up for his wife. Just a little more than you ever really needed to know. But the old broad decided that it was time that a person who wouldn�t ever be considered a confidant should know that she�s wearing diapers and pisses herself on a regular basis. Anybody looking for a nice house in central Jersey with urinating neighbors?
Speaking of Jersey neighbors, I�d like to formally thank Mr. Dangerspouse for the link in his last entry and wanted to return the favor. He�s one of the funniest storytellers you�ll see around. Definitely worth clicking over to and is certainly worth a spot on your favorites list. Go ahead. Bump that jackass who hasn�t updated in a month and add DangerSpouse. 12:11 p.m. - 2005-02-11 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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