Normally, I don’t have much trouble coming up with story lines, but Alex hasn’t been pulling her weight around here lately. And like a Twinkie, it takes both of us working together to make this site work. I’m just the creamy filling.
Okay, disregarding what may have possibly been the poorest attempt at a marriage analogy in the history of Hostess, I’ve been thinking about a few minor changes:
Cue the wavy ducks.
Me: Honey, I’m thinking of killing off your character.
Alex: Vut?
Me: Oh, don’t worry, silly! Not FOREVER! Just until I can get my site stats back up a little! But don’t worry, you’ll come back, in some miraculous, yet highly plausible way that doesn’t involve a ‘this whole thing was just a dream’ sequence. And the posts I write when you’re ‘gone’ will be genuinely sad and moving.
Alex: Vut?
Me: Of course, I’ll have to hook up with someone else so that when you return, I’ll be faced with that classic dilemma of choosing between the love of my life and some hot, young Yoga instructor that I’ve impregnated. But don’t worry. I’ll totally choose you. Eventually. How are you at bikini Jello fights?
Alex: Vut?
Me: Look, either you’re with me or you’re with the terrorists. So spill it, Osama, Jello or mud?
Tag: Boone’s Farm
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