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Confessions of a Car Singer

April 9, 2013 by Leave a Comment

singer

I have another confession to make. I sing when I’m driving alone.

If you’ve ever heard me sing, you’d understand why I feel guilty about that. For the benefit of mankind though, I usually keep the windows up when I sing.When I say sing, I don’t mean that I just chime along with the song that’s playing on the radio. No, I’m talking full-blown, note belting, hand-waving, neck-rolling performances in my car while I’m driving down the road.

Even still – if you’ve ever been in a vehicle on the road next to me, I’m sorry. Surely I must look like a raving lunatic screaming at herself in her car while slapping at the steering wheel.

And for that, I am ashamed.  **hangs head** (Not enough to stop doing it, though.)

So if you’re ever on the road and you see a nerdy-but-still-sexy looking lady with kinky hair who appears to be losing her mind behind the wheel for no apparent reason? Don’t fret! I’m not road-raging, or going insane (although that is debatable depending on the day of the month). I’m just driving and singing, and having a jolly good time.

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Confessions of a Denied Wife

February 11, 2013 by 16 Comments

Britney Spears Blackout Album - Confession w/ Priest

(I’m starting a new series here on my blog, called “Confessions”. They will be mini stories that are part diary, part story, that I hope you enjoy. Here’s the first one!)

I have a confession to make. Yesterday I smacked my husband in the head with a dildo.

I had good reason to. You see, there we were, all snuggled up in bed together, watching House of Cards on Netflix. The children were napping in their room, the phone wasn’t ringing, I didn’t have any pressing work to do, and neither did he. So I smooched on him and nuzzled my face into the side of his neck, when he pulled back and told me no.

“No? What do you mean, ‘no’?” I asked him.

“I don’t wanna,” he said. “You took everything I had yesterday.”

“What’s that got to do with today?”

“Everything. I’m not horny today.”

“But I am.”

“Well, I said no.”

“That’s your final answer?”

“Yup.”

So I turned over, reached into my drawer, pulled out a rubbery dildo, and then smacked him in the head with it. Because I mean really — is it acceptable for a husband to tell his hot wife ‘No’?

While he sat there staring at me, mouth gaping open, I then proceeded to use the object I’d just abused him with, right there in front of him.

Shows him right for denying me.

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