It's a ringer!

I finally remember one of my conversations with J. Now that I remember it, I don't know that I should even repeat it. They are so funny to us when we're in the midst of it, but when I look back on it, it just seems sick. I think we both need some counseling. But that's not going to stop me� at least this time. Part of being sick is not knowing when to say when.

We were headed in town to his gig this Saturday. He actually did manage to get a sitter, so I could go. (Later, I wished I hadn't gone at all, but that's a story for another time.) We passed the local Tattoo Emporium, decked out in its purple and green neon, advertising tongue piercings. So I asked J if he thought I should get my tongue pierced. We discuss the benefits and drawbacks of tongue piercing. I tell him I think I would probably get just about anything else pierced before my tongue, including my nipples, which he happened to ask. He tells me I'm sensitive enough already without nipple piercing. I proceed to freak out about whether or not I'm abnormally sensitive. He finally says I'm normal, but I think he was just trying to shut me up. But if that were really the case, he wouldn't have continued.

J: What about your butt?

C: My butt?

J: Yeah, would you get your butt pierced?

C: How do you get your butt pierced? What do you mean, like a big ass ring? Ha! Big-ass ring!

J (laughing): Something to hang onto.

C (cracking up): Wouldn't a barbell be better for that? Or wait� I could tow the kids in a wagon with my ass ring, or skaters could hitch a ride on my ass ring.

J: You could have one on each cheek. Better handling.

C: You think I would need special pants to accommodate my ass ring?

J: Probably.

See what I mean? Sick. I did conclude that no, I would not get my butt pierced. Who gets their butt pierced anyway? I better not ask.

Today I got rid of:

Two empty detergent bottles
Empty Clorox bottle
Wrinkled up gift bag