Wednesday, August 8, 2012

You've Got Male. See What I Did There?


Nugs: This weekend I went out of town to visit my mom and, while on my vacation, picked up a shit-ton of postcards for all my co-bloggers (Bloggesses? Bloggi? Let's coin something and make this a Thing).

Lily: I vote Bloggi, because it sounds funny.

Ginny: And Bloggi sounds like it would be grammatically correct or something like that if it was a real word.

Nugs: You guys know how I feel about grammatical accuracy. Let's do this. Moving on..

Lest you think that I'm a total philanthropist or whatever, keep in mind that this was like 40% for them and like 60% for me. Or, to be more accurate, it's probably more 20%-80%.



Ginny: I'm bad at math so don't look at me.

Nugs: I am definitely more of a science nerd. "Chemistry," hey-o!

Anyway...

Every time I mail something to my friends I get to go to the UPS store, which means that I get to see my secret boyfriend; and by "boyfriend" I totally mean "definitely knows I'm in love with him and is most likely terrified that I'm waiting behind his car or something." I should probably inform him that we are in fact together but I like my relationships to have that element of surprise. I swear I am thisclose to throwing myself boobs out on the counter and asking him to sign for my package.

Lily: TeeHee, package! In all seriousness though, you should totally do it. 

Coyote Tits: Nugs has been talking about this guy for months. MONTHS. The way she describes him, well it's totally like this:


Nugs: It's true. My friends all benefit from my stalker tactics because this means they get a bunch of presents, but in return they have to put up with me rambling on about how hot this guy is. So, tit for tat. Without the TAT.

One time I went in there with an NYC shirt and some old dude started talking to me about the Knicks. I love the Knicks, despite the fact that they consistently suck, and the guy behind the counter was like, "oh, we have someone here who's a Knicks fan." Then he told my future child support to come out from the back room and I DIED. Not visibly, though, because I'm all stealth.

As it turns out, we are totally made for each other because he is also from New York. He had even heard of the tiny college that I went to that people usually make curious puppy face when I mention. Also did I tell you guys that he looks like this?



Lily: And you haven't jumped his bones, why? This is a HUGE step above from what I was imagining in my head. 

Nugs: Wait. What are you implying?

Lily: Stop slacking and get to it!

Nugs: The answer here is simple: I'm a chickenshit.

I mean, we had talked to each other before but not normally for more than three minutes because:
1) He's at work (Not a good excuse, he takes breaks, no?)
B) He's always surrounded by old fat dudes and (ew)
MAGICAL PRANCING UNICORNS) That three minutes is usually the exact amount of time I can hold a conversation with him before I picture him naked and get all flustered and have to leave before I say something that gives away what is going on in my head OH HAAAAAI. Every time he asks for my number to "put in the system" I want to be like, "put THIS in the system." Oh yes. And then I get all excited because he asked for my number. And then I remember, "oh right. It's his job." Sad.

Coyote Tits: This is also his job:


NugsAnyway, I went there today to mail everything and- what a gyp- he wasn't even there! Or his red light psycho-meter went off and he went to sit in the back in the fetal position until I left. Later Tits and I were on Facebook and this happened:
Nugs: he wasn't even there; what a gyp
Coyote Tits: seriously
Nugs: or maybe he was hiding in the back. he probably heard me come in and was like "Oh Shit"
Coyote Tits totally unlikely;  he would have been all "get the fuck out of my way the hot bitch with the big tits is here"
Nugs:: AND SCREENCAP
Coyote Tits hahaha
dammit now everything I say can and will be used against me in a court of Nugs 
Ginny:  Looks like we're going to be getting more post cards.

NugsAll my friends keep telling me to just ask him to get a drink or something, but I think at this point he would probably run the fuck the other way. Or at least purposely give me the wrong meeting place and then have the cops show up. Although, hey, handcuff access! Ye-yeah.

Please still be my friends.

Ginny: I like the or something because the or something could be sexy times.

Lily: I agree. Invite him out. Talk about NYC. And if the cops come, maybe they would want to join the party. HEY-O!




P.S. We're still friends. 

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