Geeky Talks
You’re just going to have to take my word for this. I wouldn’t make this shit up.
We have a.. how do we say this? ... “tight” community. Or “compact” if you’re a car salesman. Or “bumfucking close” if you’re us.
Whatever, people are everywhere always up in other people’s grills here.
Last night our neighbors had a tiny party. (Nice people, really, smoking Christians with a cute little white fully dog that always wave high and say “how are you” before jumping in their car and doing what people without kids do: LEAVE HOME.) It so happens that this particular two weeks has been warm enough to open our windows which is helpful for hearing every conversation from a three mile stretch. You’d be amazed at what you hear. (As a side, there is always this ONE LADY yelling at her kids to GO TO FUCKING BED ALREADY, IT IS SIX O’CLOCK. What kind of mother does that? Gawd.)
Anyway, the party had moved outside and took to smoking their cigs while I leaned in to the netting on the window and enhailed, deeply, listening to their converstaion. It went something like this:
One: So, you like it here?
Two: Meh, it’s ‘aight.
One: Yea, you have a pool, that’s nice.
Two: Meh, it’s always families and fat people. LIke WHERE ARE THE CHICKS.
One: Oh, that’s too bad. ...
Pause
I fly by the window to go get my phone
One: You can really see in to everyone’s homes, hu.
Two: Yea and it’s not pretty when it’s hot out. Those people (I assume gesturing toward our house), the chick always goes by in her underwear.
One:Dude, gross. Really? Is she hot?
Two: No.
One: Dude, Brutal.
Pause.
I fly by in my PJ’s which, whatever, MAYBE shot my “bags” of hooters flopping around a bit.
(Another side: My son, my two year old BRILLIANT child who knows all letters, sounds, etc? Called my boobs eggs. “EGGS! EGGS!” I corrected him: TITTIES!)
When I return to listen and snap a photo, for posterity, they had stepped inside.
But give it time, buddy. Give it time. In three years when your wife has birthed two children from a 6 inch slit in her abdomen cutting every hope of ab muscles for the rest of her life, you’ll be thankful she wears anything at all.
Trust me.
Trust me.
P.S. YES, that’s a dead fly on the window. Classy, hu?
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that lady at 6pm is totally you isn’t it?
Shhhhh. You’re going to give it away!
I can only imagine the conversations my neighbors are having across the street (sometimes the drapes in the living room get closed before I run around in PJs and other times…)
That stupid shit had to have been gesturing in the other direction. You’re HAWT. If I were into chicks, I would do you. (I mean that in the most non-creepy way possible.)
Also, was he pin up material or just (joke) material?
P.S. I’m so sorry that first sentence sounds hostile. My excuse is that I feel lousy, my allergies are bothering me, in an hour I will have worked 56 hours this week and I’m exhausted, and I’m a tad sensitive and melancholy today.
Maria, feel free to tell me you’d do me any day. HEH. And honey, sad, melancholoy and sensitive? :: raises hand :: I getsit.
You’re always welcome here.
Damn, can you get that lady to come by and get my kids to bed at 6?
And I’m sure they weren’t talking about you! Dickweeds!
I don’t wanna know what my neighbors say about me….Damn.
Whoa, you’re NOT supposed to yell at kids. Good thing we don’t have any. Just checking, it’s totally okay to yell at cats and husbands, right? I mean, at least husbands. (Please?)
I go around in my underwear too. I didn’t know I was supposed to wait until after the birth to do that.
DAMN IT.
Love and licks, Mrs. Flinger.
P.S. I just received the email notification for this post. Strange!
I suspect your drawing of them is a lot easier on our eyes than the real thing. I suspect you’ve got a gorgeous set of eggs too
.
I told you not to talk about how I talk to my kids!
I’m pretty sure yours are so hawt they’re fried eggs. snort.
I wish I could have been that fly… them bastards.
I bet your eggs are just fine - I myself need egg implants - these puppies cannot be how they are forever or I’ll be in biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig trouble.