|Metaphorically and literally awesome|
I trolled some firearm blogs late last night while I wrestled unsuccessfully with chemical- and heat-induced insomnanxiety (note to self: don't drink half a 5 hour energy at 20:00). Upside: I got all my chores done and sweated out all the toxins that weren't already purged during crossfit. Downside: I'm useless today. Anyway, during my not-so-quiet time I realized that reading politics in firearm blogs was boring and pointless at best, irritating at worst.
It's an echo chamber: a lot of people making the same noises at each other. I'll do what I can to either avoid the topic altogether or raise the level of discourse. Note that it's election season so there's a limit to how much I can tamp down the bile but I'll do my best. Don't like to tilt overmuch at the windmills of stupidity but sometimes it can't be helped. (It was the reason I started this blog in the first place. So.) Anyway, let's move on to things that find a broader audience, like dogs.
The Girl has a very sweet dog and we have a little routine in the morning where when The Girl gets up and showers for work I let Reese the Dog in the bed so we can spend a bit of time together before we start the day. This is officially called Peapod Time, because she likes to lay next to you like, well, two peas in a pod. Today she made herself comfortable between me and a pillow and I didn't pay her much mind (see comments re: insomnia and aftereffects, above). A short while later The Sweet Love of My Life returned, leaned over to give me a kiss and said, "You smell like Reese's butt!"
FML x ELEVENTY BAZILLION
Reese had caught me unawares with the Buttsmear. (This is a Thing that Happens and it has a proper-noun name.) I don't want to get into details but, uhh, yeah. Buttsmear. I showered, the Girl changed the sheets and Reese just laughed. Ugh.
Still it haunts me.