Rocky Mountain Oysters
So a recent Statcounter search showed that someone in Philly found my site by typing "erin removes the testicles" into Google. I tried it, and hey, I'm the TOP PICK if you want to read about Erin removing the testicles!
I found this strange because you know, I don't write about testicles that much on this site.
However, last night I did have a conversation about testicles, of which the Googling testicle searcher reminded me.
A couple of days ago, I ran into my very good friend D in the village. He was having breakfast with his sister and his precocious 8 year old niece. When he saw me walk by the window, he came outside and called after me. I went back and hugged him as we said our hellos (something that, as I'd soon find out, didn't go unnoticed by his family), and then he invited me into the restaurant to meet his sister and his niece.
Apparently the niece was cooking up some ideas about me as I sat down and chatted. Her great dream in life is to be a flower girl, and has requested of D that she be the one to throw the petals should he ever land himself a fiancee. As the one unmarried uncle in her family, D is her best shot at making her flower girl dreams come true. D jokes that by the time he finally gets married, his niece will be old enough to qualify for bridesmaid status.
Anyway, D and I got together last night. He told me something his niece said to him after I left the restaurant the other morning: "Maybe if you want to get married you can just marry Erin!" I can just see the dreams of little white dresses and a basket of petals taking root in her mind. D's sister, apparently, seconded this idea.
D and I had a good laugh about how sticky THAT situation would be, since I dated D's best friend and former roommate (let's call him George) for nearly 3 years. The social, emotional and familial shitstorm that would ensue if we moved anywhere beyond a friendly peck on the cheek are too horrendous to even hypothetically consider. I said as much to D:
Erin: "Haha, George would totally cut off your testicles and put them in a PIE if we dated!"
D: "He TOTALLY would. Um. Wait. A PIE? That's horrifying...(swallows) and yet somehow, so apt. Did you come up with that, or did you read it somewhere?"
Erin: "I don't know, I just came up with it, I guess."
D: "Why a PIE?"
Erin: "Because everything is better with a flaky crust."
So there's my latest story about severed testicles. Google searchers, go crazy.
I found this strange because you know, I don't write about testicles that much on this site.
However, last night I did have a conversation about testicles, of which the Googling testicle searcher reminded me.
A couple of days ago, I ran into my very good friend D in the village. He was having breakfast with his sister and his precocious 8 year old niece. When he saw me walk by the window, he came outside and called after me. I went back and hugged him as we said our hellos (something that, as I'd soon find out, didn't go unnoticed by his family), and then he invited me into the restaurant to meet his sister and his niece.
Apparently the niece was cooking up some ideas about me as I sat down and chatted. Her great dream in life is to be a flower girl, and has requested of D that she be the one to throw the petals should he ever land himself a fiancee. As the one unmarried uncle in her family, D is her best shot at making her flower girl dreams come true. D jokes that by the time he finally gets married, his niece will be old enough to qualify for bridesmaid status.
Anyway, D and I got together last night. He told me something his niece said to him after I left the restaurant the other morning: "Maybe if you want to get married you can just marry Erin!" I can just see the dreams of little white dresses and a basket of petals taking root in her mind. D's sister, apparently, seconded this idea.
D and I had a good laugh about how sticky THAT situation would be, since I dated D's best friend and former roommate (let's call him George) for nearly 3 years. The social, emotional and familial shitstorm that would ensue if we moved anywhere beyond a friendly peck on the cheek are too horrendous to even hypothetically consider. I said as much to D:
Erin: "Haha, George would totally cut off your testicles and put them in a PIE if we dated!"
D: "He TOTALLY would. Um. Wait. A PIE? That's horrifying...(swallows) and yet somehow, so apt. Did you come up with that, or did you read it somewhere?"
Erin: "I don't know, I just came up with it, I guess."
D: "Why a PIE?"
Erin: "Because everything is better with a flaky crust."
So there's my latest story about severed testicles. Google searchers, go crazy.
posted by Had To Move at 3:54 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home