Last night I partook in the following conversation on Facebook:
("M" is Daddio's brother; "J" is M's fiancee; "C" is a complete stranger)
|Super proud of myself for figuring out how to do a screen cap!|
I know what you're thinking, Wow, that Daddio sure has some class. Or maybe I was the only one thinking that? I don't know if I've mentioned it before, but I'm a bit of a prude, so his comments here slightly disgusted me, but pretty much par for the course.
Anyway, this all occurred while Daddio was out having a** drink with his uncle (Side note: Shouldn't it be considered poor manners to be scoping out Facebook on your cell phone while in the middle of the bar having a social drink with a family member?) When he returned home smelling like beer, he cozied up to me in bed, attempting (and failing) to get a little somethin' somethin'. He then called me a prude, and made a snide remark about wanting to "get laid" at least once a week. Which then led to the following conversation:
Me: Who are you kidding? You'd like it every day, several times a day.
Daddio: Yeah, no kidding, but I'd settle for once a week. What do I have to do, start bringing home flowers to get sex?
Me: They would've been nice for my birthday. (It was on Monday, and I'm still rather miffed that he didn't get me anything; not from him or from the boys. Nothing for Christmas either).
Daddio: So flowers would get me laid?
Me: I didn't say that, but it'd be a start.
Daddio: Spending $20 a week for sex would be worth it.
Me: Do you realize how that sounded? What am I, a prostitute?
Um, yeah. So, apparently I am:
(Click to enlarge).
(Click here to take this quiz yourself).
I took this quiz this morning. What a funny coincidence.
*A post for another day, when I get up the nerve to actually start writing about the real issues in my life right now.
**And by "a" drink, I really mean 2 or 3 or 6....