Everyone calm down. I’m not homeless-homeless, I’m pretend-homeless. It’s not like I’m sleeping in my car. Yet. I might try it just to see what it’s really like but I need to clean my car out first. Some people might say there is nothing funny about homelessness but once I had a great idea to interview some of the most approachable looking folks in the Loin and ask them what features they were most interested in when they were in the market for a new Smart Phone. I digress.
Lucky for me my lovely boyfriend has insisted that I stay with him as often as possible while I’m home hunting. What a sweet little idiot! No, really, nothing kills a relationship faster than being confined to the same dwelling, for two reasons. You’re either going to fuck all the time because you can and then someone is going to wind up pregnant or you’re going to realize how annoying your paramour is when they cook, shower, sleep, water plants, etc. Right now, I think it’s endearing that Boyfriend eats like a college freshman. His pantry is full of cans of chef Boyardee, bags of miniature candy bars and jelly that comes in a squeeze bottle. (You know, so he can make smiley faces on his PB and J.) I’m not complaining! He made me a toaster strudel for breakfast the other morning and insists that I eat a few Oreos after dinner every night! (I actually think this is a birth control tactic of his. Make Girlfriend fat, no longer want to mate.) And speaking of mating (again), I think the only reason he’s really offering to let me stay all the time is that I’m ovulating this week so he instinctually thinks that now is a great time for me to be staying in his studio cave. Unfortunately, the relationship is going really well and I wouldn’t want to screw it up with cohabitation or marriage or babies or any of that shit. But I’ll stay as long as he has toaster strudels and Oreos lying around.
Below is a picture of a birthday present that he gave me yesterday. I think it sends mixed messages. Does he want me to live with him or does he want me to stab him? Or does he want me to open his beer for him and use the tweezers to help him with any splinters that he may have gotten while he was programming? Or maybe he wants me to live with him AND open his beer AND stab him?