Welp. I’ve really done it this time.
The conservatives are in an uproar. My mention of a “List of Conquests” in my last post has everyone up in arms. And I mean everyone. Even the new Pope is PISSED.
Seriously though, this list has created quite the stir in my little bubble.
So please allow me to reword, rework and rewind. I love my bubble and I want to keep it round, shiny and happy.
My mention of a List of Conquests was most certainly not meant to cast me as some sultry scheming vixen. If you MUST know, and clearly you MUST (as pointed out by my sweet, concerned hubby, “What about your parents, your brothers, my parents? Kellan will read this one day, too, you know…” Guilt. Guilt GUILT.), the list was more of a mental compilation of cute guys, funny ones that intrigued me somehow. Ones I wanted to talk to, maybe be hit on by and/or kiss, not the whole shebang. Quite literally. Or, not literally. You know what I’m saying this time, hopefully. Don’t make me write an addendum to the addendum. Someone get the Pope on the line!
I swear my intention is not to insert these ideas in your head that I’m some deep dark dominatrix dame (nice use of alliteration, right? Word nerds unite!) or cloud your opinion of me, I’m just here to entertain. Those who know me should know me better than to think I’m secretly the female version of the 50 Shades of Grey guy. (Yeah, I haven’t read any of those books. None of ’em. I don’t know the dude’s name. I would imagine Grey is probably part of it. The series creeps me out. As does the way women hype it to each other.)
For the record, I’m an ex cross-country runner dork, a self proclaimed word nerd and a French major. Come on. THINK about it. And technically speaking, while the word “list” makes whatever’s on it sound really long, all it takes is more than one item to form said list. K? Point taken? Yeah. Good, great, GRAND. (Chris Farley. Miss him. On SNL, that is.)
Ok, I’m done trying to smooth this one over. There’s not enough pomade in the world to gloss over the slip-ups I may or may not commit via blogging. The verbal diarrhea. The foot-in-mouthness. (I’m not talking about Coxsackie Virus either.) Plus the Nellisms. Oh gawd, y’all are in for one hell of a $#!+ show.
And on that note, GOOD NIGHT!