Category — tmi thursday

This story comes to you courtesy of my Daddy, who we all know is probably my greatest source of TMI posts.

Where he works, they have a small cafeteria. For awhile, they had no cook, and so they had no breakfast or lunch available in the cafeteria. A new cook was hired, and everyone was eager to have hot food served at the office. They lined up to try his offerings.

The grits were his biggest hit by far. All the ladies ranted and raved about how incredibly delicious this guy’s grits were. Daddy got sick of hearing about it- that’s how impressed everyone was.

For the better part of three months, everyone ate grits for breakfast, and they were good, and all was right with the world. Until…

One day, they were out of forks or grits or something, and so one of the ladies wandered back into the kitchen to let him know…

… and found him working, um, furiously at finishing a batch of grits with his “special sauce”. The process by which he made this “special sauce” did not belong in the kitchen, and probably required a Playboy or a Penthouse to produce.

That’s right, folks- the women my father works with were over the moon for grits made with love sauce, which they unknowingly ate five mornings a week for three months.

The cafeteria is closed now.

Happy TMI Thursday!

I don’t know that this is worthy of Miss LiLu’s link love, but I thought I would take it as an opportunity to tell you things I normally wouldn’t.

I started my period today.

I gained 13 pounds in a week. Or my scale is broken.

Hook or crook, I will lose at least half of those 13 pounds by the time my period is over. Watch me.

The ex is taking custody of Adicus next Friday, and I’ve been a blubbering mess all day because of it.

It appears that both the appearance of my skin and my general outlook on life are kept in good order by sex. Which explains why my complexion is dull and I’m “meh” in general.

For those reasons among numerous and obvious other reasons, I would really like to measure my sexual activity (that includes other parties) in increments of weeks or even days rather than months.

Lucy and Adicus both have worms and I’m scared to death I’ll get them.

My legs are covered in flea bites.

In 2010, instead of implementing a blanket benefit maximum for mental health services, they will be covered (or not) based on the same criteria set for physical illnesses. I am sitting here hoping the crazy is good enough to keep me in covered therapy for the whole year. Which is a weird feeling.

I probably pretty much just screwed (ha! bad pun) myself out of correcting the sex life situation by admitting everything else.

I’m not sure I really care about that. Let’s face it, if a guy can’t handle this post? He can’t handle me.

There you have it. All my yuckies. Tomorrow is Friday, and I might just shed a few tears of gratitude when I get up in the morning.

Happy TMI.