In my mouth. Yup. That's right....his balls....in my mouth. I figured if I put that as an actual title I'd upset find myself being called a "filth mongorer" and we just can't have that.
So you already know the basics. Gwen, Mandie. Etc. Well, Friday I kick Tony Ray out of bed to take him to my old stomping grounds. Best car ride of my life. We sang at the top of our lungs for 2 straight hours. Anyway, we get there, I show him the very polluted Wisconsin River and we head to Moms.
My mom immediately starts "Hey Hillbilly". I swear I wouldn't have even know he was so nervous if I hadn't seen his shoulders relax by a good two inches when he saw that everyone was outside barefoot. And there was beer. Off to eat. Fairly uneventful. Fun despite the fact that he now knows entirely too much about how much my family likes to rib on me. After that it was casino time. He told you about that...so we go to the bar where apparently he decides he is on a mission to kill my dumbass.
Kill my ass as in make me show him that I can drink. Not that I'm good at it, or that I can hold my liquor, just that I can drink. Yes...I was loving life for awhile there. At one point Tony Ray says we should swap tongue rings, hence "I got Tony Ray's balls in my mouth". Aaron then decided I'd had a little too much fun kissing on "The Chad" and hanging on the "T-Ray" and drug me (literally) out the door. When we got home I got this wild idea that someone might sneak into the house and try to steal the toilet....so I spent the remainder of the evening guarding it with my life. And tell Tony Ray to just go away. In the end, I won...no one stole the toilet.
Next day 4th of July party where Tony Ray ends up in my aunt's pants. Literally. I was nice enough to take that fucker for a ride in a vintage Corvette and how does he repay me? By throwing me in the kiddie pool. But I was going in with out him, so he soaked all his clothes as well. He had to borrow some really sexy tighy jammie pants from my wicked aunt. She harrassed me all night long about our "interactions" and felt the need to constantly remind me that I was married. Really? But just the same, did that ever mean a damn thing to you lady? NO. So shut your pie hole.
What else. So much. The Dells. The traffic. The IHOP. Lovely weekend minus standing/slumping guard over the old comode.
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