He’s Lucky He’s Gorgeous

Don’t let his looks fool you

We’ve been dating for 3 years and he still gives me the butterflies, but not always the fairy tale kind. Sometimes they feel like killer moths. For example, the annoymous comment he left on this blog:

“Ummm I find this blog to be totally revolting, and if you don’t clean up your act I’m going to send a messenger pigeon to (he used our street address and I was in full on panic mode wondering how the fuck a crazy person got my address) and shit in your mouth when you’re yawning facing upwards in your ghetto white trash hammock. (At this point my heart is beating out of my chest, my stomach is nauseous and I’m dizzy) Get it the fuck together, it’s pronounced hammock not HAM-HOCK (this was the magical moment I knew it was Jase fucking with me b/c of our ongoing battle on who pronounces hammock correctly) That’s what you were served in high school on a crappy white bread squishy roll that you put your damn fingers through and got covered in mustard.”

A little side note about me. My fight or flight response is triggered by the smallest crumb of danger and Jase knows this. He uses this knowledge to fuck with me regularly.

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