Random Esquire

1.  The other night, Besos and I were climbing into bed and I said, “Can we skip the foreplay tonight?”

She looked at me blankly and then said, “What? Why?”

I said, “Because I want to have sex but I’m tired.”

I sometimes hope that my frank admission of things will be disarming and result in a stunned acquiescence of whatever it is I want.  You’d be shocked to hear how often I am wrong.

Besos looked at me and said, “That is not how it works.”

I said, “How does it work?”

She said, “You have to at least kiss me!”

So I kissed her.  And you know what?

It worked!

2.  The other night, Besos and I were climbing into bed and I reached over for her.  She looked me in the eyes and told me she was not feeling all that great.  I said, “Do you know what would help?”

I suggest sex as a panacea to Besos at least 3 times a week at any given time.  “My back is sore.” “You know what helps?”  “I have to return movies.” “You know what helps?” “My eyes are itchy.”  “You know what helps?”  Anything.  The best part is that she forgets all the time so when I ask, she genuinely hopes I have a solution.  So when I said it – “Do you know what would help?”

She said, “What?”

I waggled my eyebrows at her.  She pushed me away.  So I kissed her.  And you know what?

It worked!

3.  The other night, Besos and I were climbing into bed when I got that look again.  I am not afraid to bargain body parts.  When Besos does not want me climbing all over her, we bargain.  She tells me what parts of her body are closed for business and I kindly suggest substitutes.  Inevitably, I am relegated to above the waist.  I am not dissuaded.  Because two of my favorite body parts are above the waist.  See, with Besos, her boobs are like….hmmm….lockpicks.  If you handle them correctly, you gain entrance.  So I decided to pick her lock.

It worked!

1. Tonight, I saw a commercial on television for bras and without thinking, I reached for the phone to call Besos.  Association, people.

2. Squirrel Wife peels her almonds before she eats them. I don’t know if they are like apples and potatoes and she’s therefore missing out on vitamins so I didn’t comment.

3. Besos went swimming the other night. She sent me a text message to let me know she was going to lick some old people. Almost afraid of her response, I texted back, “lick?” She responded “kick.” Apparently, no one was staying in his or her own lane. One slip of the finger and a whole new meaning.

4. QTMama wants everyone with a penis to play with her hair.

5.  Excessive punctuation causes a visceral reaction in me.  It isn’t good.

6.  Besos and I are going to try a Costa Rican restaurant this week.  I’m not entirely sure why since, in about 10 days, we will actually be in Costa Rica.  Speaking of – I asked Besos what she was most looking forward to with respect to our upcoming vacation.

She said, “Going with you.”

*Blink*

That response caused a mad scramble in my brain to come up with an equally sensitive response to this question.  It must have showed on my face because she said, “What were you going to say?”

I said, “Uhhhh…I was looking forward to the hotel management asking you to keep it down.”

She said:

“that, too.”

1.  I bought this SpotBot.  It cleans a spot on your carpet in  a perfect circle about 12 inches in diameter.  I used it on the bedroom carpet and the result was an obviously much cleaner circle of carpet in the middle of …clearly dirtier carpet.  When Besos came over today, I showed her the bedroom carpet where I’d made circles all over the carpet.  It wasn’t until I was showing her that I realized I’d made …boobs.  Clean carpet boobs all over of the bedroom.  Besos hugged me and said, “You should blog about this.”

2.  My neighbor was out on her patio, leaning over her flower pots.  I have a bad feeling she was seeing all of the crackers and almonds that Squirrel Wife had buried in her flower pots.

3.  I made lasagna tonight for dinner.  Out of a box.  Frozen.  And a salad.  Which was made of just iceberg lettuce.

Besos ate it.  And thanked me for making dinner.

She loves me.

Little Filthy is not so impressed that Squirrel Wife now gets a small bowl of water to go with her almonds.

Someone please stop me before I have two animals in the bed and a girlfriend who refuses to come over.

I have been a bear for the last week.  Little Filthy had a physical about two weeks ago and last Friday I got a follow up call that something in his blood test indicated that his kidneys may not be working up to par.  The vet suggested getting a urine sample – preferably in the morning during his “first pee of the day”.  I kindly inquired if she had any suggestions on how to obtain such sample.  She mentioned putting a dish or paper plate on the ground while he was relieving himself.

Well, Little Filthy is box trained so he just unzips and lets fly whenever he likes.  But he does typically wait in the morning until after he has eaten.  So after Saturday breakfast, I spied on him as he approached his box and when he broke the seal, I swooped in and stuck a dixie cup under him.  He didn’t notice at first but then he backed up with a whoa whoa whoa look.  I took the sample to the vet for a specific gravity test and then sweated all day, waiting to hear.

It came back low (1.021) and the vet suggested a re-test and if it had the same result, then an ultrasound was next.  She reassured me that Chicago had a good renal specialist.  My mind boggled.  Little Filthy wasn’t acting any different.  He was just as lousy as he always is.

Per instructions, I dehydrated him a bit on Sunday night and tried to get a sample on Monday morning.  But he was on to me and refused to pee if I was anywhere near him and he was instantly wary if I picked up a dixie cup.  Little Filthy flat out refused use the restroom if I was anywhere around.  Collection FAIL.  I called the vet and told her I’d try again on Thursday, giving him a few days to fully rehydrate.

This morning, I snuck up on him and collected the dew from his lily.  Success!  I had it to the vet at 9 and by 9:45, the vet called.  1.048 – nicely concentrated urine.  Who thought I could be so happy about something like that?  I swooped him up and set him on my stomach and let him lick my face until he decided he’d had enough and went to go sleep on my pillows.

*huge sigh of relief*

Rotten dog.

I’m annoyed.  I’m annoyed by drama and people who don’t think things through.

What’s annoying you today?

I asked QT and Bev this question and a few others.  And I find the responses very telling.

Let’s say you’re on a date with a guy very early on in a relationship.  Would you rather accidently fart in front of him or vomit on him?

QT and Bev both said:  Vomit on him.

WTF.

Well, thank God it’s not a choice people really have to face because I’m telling you right now that if a girl chose to vomit on me, I’d be right offended.

I just re-read this.  I think I should start going to bed earlier.

1.  For some odd reason, I can’t seem to eat enough grapefruit.  I crave them.  I eats them.  I noms them.  And still…still I want more.  What makes this so odd is that I probably went 15 years before now without eating one.

2.  Little Filthy has been sleeping on the bed -  both on our sides, back to back.  If we were a couple, we might have intimacy issues.

3.  I had Easter dinner with my parents.  You know what my mother said?

“Do you have my blender?”

4.  Do you ever wonder if you actually remember something or, after you’ve remembered it once, from then on, you’re only remembering remembering it?  Does that make sense?

5.  I don’t get the Saw movies.  I mean, I saw the first one and it was intriguing enough, as far as those things go.  But I haven’t bothered my way through the rest  of them.  There are some things that feel like they stain your soul.

6.  I don’t like movies with kids who see creepy things or sense creepy things or movies with creepy kids.  Basically, creepy + kid = not Random friendly.

7.  I bought binoculars for our trip to Costa Rica next month.  Do you know how hard it is not to look at everything out the window?  I’m positive I’d look like a major creep.  No one sees a person with binoculars looking out a window and thinks: “yup, totally innocent.”

Little Filthy has a bad habit, other than the one which earned him his name.  He likes to dig….but only in one place.

Someone’s butt.

Specifically, he likes to dig if the butt is covered by a blanket.  I fully admit that I do not discourage this behavior because it cracks me up to see.  So when Besos curled up on the bed with a blanket, I pointed at her butt and Little Filthy complied.   First video…digging away.  Second video…he digs until Besos decides that she has had enough and grabs him.  heh.

Besos came over last night.  I made dinner.  Nothing exciting – sandwiches on just baked french bread.  Some balsamic, olive oil, turkey, cheese, tomato, spices, etc.  Back in the oven.  We had some salads with it.  I made a sandwich for her to take to work today.  I said to her, “I learned to cook because I had to – because I was a bachelor.  But once I’m done wooing you and we’re married, I’m not going to cook anymore. ”

She looked at me, mouth full.  Smartly, she ignored me.  Besides, she knows I dig cooking.

This morning, I packed up a bag of these baked chips she likes from Trader Joe’s.  As she left to head to work, I said, “Do you have your sandwich?”  She nodded.  I said, “Yogurt?”  (She likes these yogurt drink things.)  She said, “Yup.”  I saw the chips in her hand.  I said, “Okay.”

She looked at me and said, “That was very wifey.”

I said, “I’m not afraid of my softer, feminine side.”

She laughed.  I said, “now shake your ass down the hall.”  Okay…so, some mornings, when Besos leaves my place, I stand in my doorway and call out (as she walks down the hall), “Wiggle it!  Shake it!”  Because I want her to wiggle her butt at me.  She ignores me.  I keep trying.  She keeps ignoring.  Anyway.

Okay, so, here’s the thing.  I had to be UBER-wifey caues BETH busted me out about my Tweet message in the comments to this entry.  Heh.  Last night, I twittered that Besos was giving me a look because I told her that I was going to cry myself to sleep because her boobs were not as big as the bra she was wearing might lead me to believe.  Of course, she didn’t know that I’d twittered it until Beth’s comment. Which made her laugh. And me, too.

PHEW.  Still a bastard.