Foolish Naming Boy

"Thanks, Honey!"

-Me (at the dinner table with Sara's parents)

Remember when I said Sara and I don't use pet names? Well, I have somehow gotten it through my thick Batman kevlar protected skull as an innocent habit. This all became more noticeable while having dinner with Sara and her parents on Sunday night. It just came out. "Honey." Ugh. I hate that pet name. Hate it! Sara's parents got a kick out of it by laughing. Sara did not.

Today is the way I like my nights. Sore all while slowly recovering from my long weekend where I was pretty much everywhere. There was a local World Series going on that I must attend. My love of baseball when it's pure wins out every time. Hell, we even got her dad to go so I could concentrate on the game while Sara asks consistent questions. There's a lot of, "Why is that number.....?" Unfortunately, I did not get to see the final game where everything was decided. For that, I'd have to be without a job.

That J-O-B? Ugh. Still tiring on my already sore body's need to recover from yesterday. There is nothing quite like being thrown into the deep end of a pool when there is a large piece of cement tied to your feet. Of all things, I had to work with the guy that consistently shits his britches. Like magic? Oh, there is nothing like the smell of shit from somebody's ass while a fan hits you square in the face. Nothing.

Like a duck to water, my little 5-Pound Phooey was happy to hit the daily walk in the park. This meant I got a lot of little licks on my face when I arrived home. You just cannot keep a good tough chick like this down. 5-Pound Phooey becomes a whole new dog when I arrive. She runs all around the room in a show of happiness. When I'm gone? A lot of moping around.

A weird thing happened during a watching of the Olympics. Remember my starving cat? It came back and basically wanted to know if I'd come out. There it was near the window looking at me. Of course, I came outside to see if what I saw was correct. She got adopted and put on some weight. Fat Cat went nuts by insisting I play with her on the apartment's porch area just like the old days. It's kind of weird how I have this effect on animals. One brings me dead baby birds as a sign of affection while the other belches and farts on my bed. Guess who is who.

So, I'm still in recovery from the past 2 days. Time will tell you when I'm ready to do a full entry again. To some, it's horrible to set foot in the gym but that's my sanctuary to release all those fuzzy little issues roaming within. I feel pretty good. Tired but good. Even better since Sara told me my chest is shrinking. I'm probably one of the few males that would like to have a smaller chest yet still retain a bit of muscularity. My balls will always be the largest of the land, however. Happy twats all around.