Since my last male reader headed for the hills months ago, I am not going to mince words. It seems I am in possession of a uterus. Yes, I had sort of let it slip my mind. This strikes me as odd because you see, for YEARS, I was OBSESSED with my uterus. Like, would it work? Would it work RIGHT? Would it go the WHOLE 10 yards? When it turned out that yes, my uterus would do its bit for the good of the DNA Project, I was relieved. Then, I sorta forgot about the ole Ute because then I got distracted by my breasts, who also managed to step up to the plate and do THEIR job. Anyway, in short, it turns out this whole Battling the Blues bit was actually PMS.
You do the math. Cripes. Nice touch that it happened over Memorial Day, though.
Damn, he's sure worth it. Especially when he gives slurpy, slimy, tongue-laden kisses. THERE's the love.