Whoring myself, because, you know... That's what I do.

Okay, so I'm not literally whoring myself in that, 'letting-skeezy-guys-do-me-up-the-cornhole-for-$75' way, but in an innocent (ha!) way.

Okay, maybe not so innocent, because I'm totally a dirty, dirty girl. And that's what Aunt Becky loves about me. Dude, we had a foursome with Ben and Jerry. Plus, she totally accepted my marriage proposal. That's right. We are going to get married naked, in a field, with shots of vodka for all! Okay, maybe it'll just be the two of us, the minister, and Ben and Jerry for witnesses; but there will be vodka. Promise. Girly-flavored vodka. Any flavor you want.

Anywho, the whole point of Aunt Becky coming to visit was so that I could take photos of our lesbian debauchery and post them as entries to her BlogHer Swag giveaway-contest-thing.

If you really, truly, utterly love me in that pretend-to-like-my-taste-in-music, let-me-have-the-last-piece-of-cheesecake, hold-a-radio-over-your-head-outside-my-window unfortunate way that makes you hate me, love me... Well, you'll go vote for me.

I'm entry #15, (A Foursome with Ben AND Jerry) and I'm currently -2%... In last place... With no votes... And lots and lots of ellipses...

PLEEEEEEEEEEEEASE???! Pretty please with sugar and whipped cream and handcuffs and strawberry-flavored body dust on top?! I will (maybe) have sex with you if you vote for me.

Okay, not really, because my husband might not like my exchanging sex for votes in a contest... For a PS3 and a 70" plasma flat-screen, maybe.

In other whore-related news, Blogger is being a douche and isn't letting me upload a photo. My aunt went to Vegas this weekend and brought me back this wicked awesome, super tard-tastic sippy cup. It's bright orange with a myriad of colors and my name on it. I absolutely love it, and what's even better is that there's a shot glass inside the sippy cup! I can have a boilermaker in a sippy cup, how wicked is that?!

And, for your entertainment and my embarrassment... I was up last night watching P.S. I Love You (Shut UP, it's a good movie)(yes, I cried lots of tears), and once Hubby finally got home from work we headed towards the bedroom. To sleep, because I had been crying for the last 15 hours watching that goddamn movie.

Whoa, tangent.

Anywho, I went to relieve my bladder. I stand in front of the Porcelain Goddess to fill her with my urine-y goodness. I undo my pants, lower my zipper, drop my trousers. Then, I put my thumbs in the waistband of my panties and lower them. And I feel pain. Stinging, feels-like-I-have-a-honey-covered-asshole-and-just-sic'd-some-fireants-on-it pain. The kind of pain that only centerfolds and people crazy enough to get Brazilian waxes go through.

My pantyliner somehow twisted and adhered itself to my butthairs. And when I lowered my pretty blue panties, my pantyliner viciously yanked out said butthairs.

Ow.

You're welcome. Enjoy the Schadenfreude. :)