How's Yo' Eggs?

"I love your fuckin' titties 'cause they're big and round.
I'm glad you wore that top because they pop right out.
I don't care if they're not real.
Just lemme cop a feel."

-The Titty Song

I'm excited. You should feel my nipples because they're rock hard as I await word to get out of work for that drive to Indiana. Of course, that means my balls are smooth, pubes are pretty minimal, face has no whiskers, and all I can think about is having everything licked. There is something special when she holds my balls up and licks underneath.

When work gets bad (which has been for 2 weeks straight), people try to find ways to make it better. We'll laugh over basketball players getting emotional during standing ovations. For me, it's been all about people showing me their biceps. Why has it come to this? People I work with have been telling me how amazing I look or try to mock my large arms by flexing in front of me. It started yesterday when my cool-as-shit co-worker tells me to watch him flex his medium size biceps. Then, my boss wants me to see how much smaller he is than I am. And, finally? One of the girls took the time to tap me on the shoulder to show me the 'guns' she's packing. Since September 24th, I have had people constantly tell me how impressive I look.

*Shudders*

It's really amusing when people think my whole life revolves around the gym. I hardly ever discuss with my co-workers anything about my workouts. Be it, Allen Iverson's standing ovation, Michael Jordan being better than Lebron James, my love of Scooby Doo, having a girlfriend for over 3 years (I used to get hit on ALLLLLL the time at work until it finally made its way out that I'm with Sara), taking the time to make fun of myself (lots of moments here), and my hatred for the new movie, I Am Legend. Not once have I ever discussed my workout but people just have to show me their biceps or ask me how much I bench-press. I may not be the biggest but I must be something special for people to feel the need to roll up their sleeves.

Since my co-workers have it in their heads that I'm a ninja, I'll put something new into play. If I leave for London, England in May, I'll play out my accent majorly all while telling them I'll be off to England to 'see my mates, have a fight and a pint in the pub.' It's fun to mess with the uneducated.

Yes, I do have an accent. Can you guess how I sound? No, I do not sound like a farm animal at 6am nor do I say 'wheeeeeee' as I run down a long walkway.

Okay, so I'm in a good mood. Big fucking deal. It's certainly not because of the potholes plaguing this town. Ugh, they are all over the goddamn place! The city's government says it has no money to repair thanks to gas prices. What do we pay them to do then!?! In a nearby town, they raised the price of gas 5 cents in order to repair theirs.

Don't go thinking my visit to Sara's is going to be all sex and pussy kissing. It's Easter Weekend so I'm going to be painting eggs with her mum. Did it last year so it's nothing new to dip, dry, and write my name in various colors. Sara's mum really does up the Holidays. All that we eat has something to do with the theme at the time. I, actually, love it because my parents do nothing.

Plus, I love hanging out in the kitchen with Sara's mum. Sara will tell you I tend to do this a lot where she'll find me sitting down chatting away. What's fun is that she's just gotten started on Showtime's TV show, Dexter, one of the greatest of all time. Dexter is a sinister sneaky serial killer that just so happens to be working for the Miami Police Department. In love with dark humor? Must. Fucking. Watch. Period.

And since I love getting people gifts, Sara's dad gets Richard Price's new book, Lush Life, from me. So many rave reviews for this crime thriller! Why can't I? This man always pulls out his credit card when all of us go out to dinner and I like doing things for people. We're talking about some of the nicest restaurants in this town where even I tend to wonder if it's legal to charge that much for seafood.

You see, every evening after dinner at Sara's parents, the dad retires to the living room to read a crime novel. Always. Sometimes, Sara and I will come in and talk about little things, politics being one. Surprisingly, this probation officer doesn't get annoyed like he does with the people at work. He's kind of shy but I've brought him out of that as we get into talks on sports more and more.

So, as you can see, I'm in a good fucking mood as this week is about to end soon. Battlestar Galactica Season 3 is packed away for weekend viewing. I love it when my balls are so smooth and dying to be licked. The body gets rest after another nasty week of work. Eggs. There's gonna be a lot of eggs on Sunday. At least we don't have to spend the morning looking for them in the backyard while flying around with baskets. "Look! Tink's titties, I'm the gay bunny that needs to try out for Project Runway!" Happy twats all around.