The Misadventures of Car Teddy

Car Teddy says, “Hi everyone! Nice to meet’cha!”

You guys all know that I’m a 3 year old when it comes to teddy bears. They are ALL teddies even if they are mice or snakes or bunnies or kitties or otters or…well, you get the point. I LOVE them! Some of my teddies I’ve had since I was a baby. My Pink Teddy and I have slept together every night for 36 years. She is one drool-colored, mite-covered, sandbag-feeling teddy, but I love her so much!!!

So, I guess it shouldn’t be a surprise that I have a car teddy. I won him in one of those claw machines. I so kick ass at those things!!! But he’s not ghetto-teddy looking. He’s actually quite soft and fuzzy and cute, as you can see.

Unlike most of my teddies (except the bed teddies–poor things), car teddy has seen things that NO one should see, especially an innocent little teddy bear.

Here is just a partial list of the wild experiences he’s suffered through:

  1. I once had a girlfriend who loved to get trashed and then hump in the backseat of my car. Every horrifying guy in Phoenix has banged her in it. EWWWW!!! Well, as you can see by car teddy’s strapped-in location, he was unable to avoid being squished by naked asses and other body parts. Yes, he’s been washed. But don’t think I didn’t feel bad drowning him in the washing machine for an hour. That cannot be fun for a little teddy.
  2. I once had another girlfriend who loved to get trashed and then throw up everywhere. As I am always the designated driver, poor little car teddy was on the receiving end of her exorcist-like vomit on more than one occasion. Off to the washing machine he again went! Poor little guy.
  3. I once had a girlfriend who was a raging pervert (shocking, I know.) She thought it would be funny to devirginize teddy, so she put one of his paws in her panties. Not only did teddy get a trip to the bath for that, he was dipped in lye, flea-repellent, acid, lice-remover and 3 antibiotics.
  4. I once had a child in my car. I don’t have kids so this is a rare occurrence, but nonetheless, said child yanked car teddy out of his seat belt with that freakish kid strength, stuck one paw in it’s drooly mouth and chewed on him for a while. Then stuffed teddy under its butt. The wee one was potty training (not very successfully) and peed all over car teddy. I guess I should be glad it was just pee. Yep, you guessed it, off to the bucket of acid again.
  5. I once had a friend (asshat) who thought it would be fun to see car teddy fly. He opened the window and hung him out. Of course, he “accidentally” let go and the poor little furry thing kissed the concrete of the highway. My reaction to this was: “You fuck! GET OUT NOW and go get him!!!”  His response, “It’s rush hour! Are you insane?” My response, “Get the fuck out NOW and get that bear or I will run your sorry ass over with my car.” His response, “Yep. You got it.” Apparently, he could see I wasn’t kidding. ;)

Enough with the camera, Mommy.

While car teddy may appear fairly well off for a teddy who’s endured so much, know that his bow is new and that helps A LOT! It distracts from the rest of his scraggly, scruffy, bodily-fluid covered countenance.

And  so ya know, I just read this post to car teddy before publishing it and he wasn’t very happy that I’d shared all of his misadventures. I’m pretty sure he’s pissed. I’ll have to add publicly humiliating him to the list of offenses against him. ;)

Ladies, Do You Want To Get Intimate? (Book review from Mondrak the Kick As Book Reviewer!)

The Amazing Mondrak has done it again!!! Another awesome, bad ass, I’ll love him til I die, review of one of my books!

This review is of, Intimacy: How to Get More of It. I wrote it for the ladies but have been incredibly, pleasantly surprised by the response from guys too. :)

Thank you, Mondrak. You rule!

Click on the link below to visit Mondrak and his review. :)

Ladies, Do You Want To Get Intimate?.


The Sicky Monster Ate My Brains!

Hey guys! I’ve been a bit under the weather (read dying slowly) since Sunday. I just didn’t want any of you to think I was ignoring your awesomeness or your delightful comments. I’ve essentially lived in bed for 3+ days. I’ll be back probably tomorrow, maybe Friday.

Love you guys!!

Fight Fairly? Oh, I see, we’re off to LaLaLand!

In addition to living an insanely funny life (as you can tell by my bizarre posts), I am also very blessed to live a peaceful life with very few urges to grab a baseball bat and start swingin’! But that minimization of violent urges didn’t happen overnight. :) Something that has greatly helped me over the years is learning how to fight with my mate in a way that actually accomplishes something other than blood shed, calls to 911, short stays in prison, etc…

Below is a chapter from my Intimacy book. I hope it helps you the next time you find yourself carrying a cast iron frying pan and in your best Jack Nicholson voice calling out to your honey. :)

17. Fight in a fair and constructive way

When a fight is over, it’s over.

This may be one of the most difficult things to do, but it’s also one of the most important. No one, including us ladies, likes to have things they’ve done in the past thrown in their face. It’s not fair (I hate that expression, but it holds true here) to keep bringing things up time and time again when you are angry with your man. Let me assure you that when you say the following things, your man immediately either gets angry, defensive, offensive or tunes you out completely:

  • Why do you always…
  • Every time you…
  • Remember 6 months ago when you…

Believe me, from the moment you utter those words, he’ll be mad and worse yet, dismissive of everything you say from that point forward. Once a man is in this frame of mind there is no point to arguing with him because nothing you say will get through to him and the whole point of an argument is to try and resolve something. If, in his mind, he’s thinking, “La la la la la…football, porn, video games, I wish she’d shut up…” while you are berating him for things he’s done in the past, you aren’t going to accomplish your goals.

So, how can you fight in a constructive way?

Here’s a solution that works with most men. Yet again, it’s about figuring out how and when to talk to a man. If you need to have “a talk,” make it a bulleted list, not a screaming, crying dissertation. If he walks in the door from work and you launch into him (even if it is sorely deserved!), he’s not going to want to deal with you. Or, even if you wait until he’s had his first beer and is relaxed, if you come at him cursing and yelling and crying, you’ve already lost the argument. He may say tons of things to placate you (read that as: make you shut up), but ultimately, most things accomplished by a long, drawn out, weeping, yelling battle are only temporary solutions. What you want is a real solution. So, how do you get that?

While this may feel completely unnatural, especially when you are piping-hot mad and looking around for some sort of blunt object, try arguing like this and see how it works with your man.

1) Ask him, “Honey, do you have a few minutes?”

  • Whatever you do, don’t tack “To talk” onto the end of that sentence. That immediately puts a man on edge as they fear those two words more than prostate cancer.
  • By asking him if he has a few minutes, rather than telling him you need a few minutes, you’re allowing him the opportunity to say yes or no. If he says no, then ask for a specific time when the two of you can chat.

2) When you are both ready to start this conversation, take him somewhere private, other than the bedroom or the living room. Outside or the kitchen can be good places.

3) Once you’ve both sat down, reassure him that you love him and tell him that you want to discuss something with him.

4) Slowly, calmly and quietly explain what your concern is, without attacking him personally.

  • “When you do X, I feel Y,” is a great way to start. It’s not accusatory, it’s explanatory. And there is a HUGE difference between the two.
  • For example:
    • When you drink until you pass out, I feel worried and scared.
    • When you are short with me, I don’t understand why and I start to wonder if there is more to it than you just being in a bad mood.
    • When you come home late from work without calling, I worry that something has happened to you.

5) Then let him talk. Let him fill in the silence. Don’t feel the need to do that yourself. Allowing him time to think of his response is critical. Chances are you’ve been plotting this discussion for hours, days, weeks, etc…but he’s just now hearing about it, so he may need a few minutes to figure out his answer. That’s okay. Silence is okay. Plus, he’s busy trying to think up his defense anyway, so any talking you do is falling on deaf ears.

6) When he does respond, listen to him, even if what he says is total bullshit. Give him a chance and then calmly explain your side of the story in greater detail. But don’t call him names or raise your voice or tell him he’s a knuckle-dragging pig that you wish you’d never met (even though you may be DYING to say that!).

7) Once you’ve discussed what the issue is, end the discussion with “Thanks, baby, for listening to me. I really appreciate it,” and then some kind of physical contact—a hug, a kiss, a held hand.

Now, I know you may be thinking, “ARE YOU CRAZY? I want to rip his nuts off and choke him to death with them! That bastard deserves to be drawn and quartered!” Believe me, I understand that urge. But this is all about how to have a healthier relationship with your man. If he dreads “the talk” or you yell, cry and call him names during “the talk” then he’s going to do everything in his power to never have “the talk” with you again.

Unfortunately, him not wanting to suffer through “the talk” doesn’t mean he’ll necessarily stop doing the things that make you want to kill him. Instead it means he’ll make “the talk” such a miserable experience for you that you’ll stop wanting to even have them. Slamming the door of communication like that is one of the worst things you can do in a relationship.

It takes patience and practice to have an effective argument. There is a lot of trial and error, and as every man is different, you’ll have to tailor your argument style to suit your man. Some men give in if you subtly guilt them. Some men give in if you are a solid boundary-drawer. Most men will listen if you just lay it out, in a verbal bulleted list without all the (what they perceive to be) “lady-drama.”

It’s important to know that this doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to cry during an argument. Sometimes, you just can’t help it. But be aware of how your man will react to your tears when deciding (if that’s even possible) whether or not to show that kind of emotion.  While there are many types of reactions men have to tears, I’ve identified a few of the main ones. Try and figure out which type of man you have and that’ll help you know whether or not to really fight the urge to cry during an argument.

  1. The Placater: This guy jumps right into “fix it” mode where he will say anything to make you stop crying. Unfortunately, what he says won’t necessarily happen once the conversation is over. It’s typically just a salve to get you to not cry anymore. He may even be well-intentioned in the moment, but quite often he’s just grabbing at straws to stop the flow of tears and probably won’t even remember half of what he said an hour later.
  2. The Deer in the Headlights: This guy immediately shuts down and becomes a mute. Your tears terrify him and he has no idea how to deal with you, so he stops interacting completely. This type of communication shutdown keeps the conversation from moving forward even an inch, and then you have to try and recover from it and start all over again.
  3. The Jerky Prick: This peach of a guy thinks, “GREAT! Here come the waterworks!” It may be that he sees your tears as manipulative and/or melodramatic, so he dismisses them automatically. When he dismisses your emotions like that, there is no way any continuation of the conversation will help you at all. (My suggestion is, if possible, to run from this type of man as fast as you can. If he sees your true emotions and scoffs at them, he’s probably a jerky prick in a lot of other areas as well. Why suffer the rest of your life with that???)
  4. The Self-Pitying Child: This type of guy gets defensive as they perceive your tears as a personal attack on them or they feel so instantaneously guilty that their reaction becomes knee-jerk instead of calmly responsive. Once they start to sulk and give you that, “Yeah, I know, I’m horrible and I hate myself,” routine, the real forward progress of your conversation has come to a screeching halt. They are too buried in feeling sorry for themselves to actually process anything you are saying.
  5. The Attentive Sweetie Pie: A good and loving man will see that you are truly in pain and will want to really work through the issue with you. Your tears will be an indicator to him of just how deeply hurt or angry you are and he’ll want nothing more than to resolve the issue with you. (God bless this type of man and I hope most of you ladies have this kind of guy.)

Regardless of which type of man you have, even if he’s not listed here or is a combination of a few of them, just remember that your tears have power and if you cry wolf with them, they lose that power. Tears should always be a genuine display of emotion, not a manipulation tactic. When you are real and honest with your emotions, you set up an environment where it’s safe for him to be real and honest too.

A final thought on this subject. While the Golden Rule of Communication is to treat others as you want to be treated, the Platinum Rule of Communication is to treat others as THEY want to be treated. Knowing that men are such different creatures from us, you have to keep in mind what is most effective in speaking with them. Keeping calm and rational may drive you crazy, especially when all you really want to do is hit him in the head with a cast-iron frying pan while weeping hysterically. In the end, however, it will help you better resolve your arguments (I prefer to think of them as “discussions”) and isn’t that the outcome you are hoping for?



Image procured from

Do You Want Sex? (How’s that for a book review title?)

Amazing book review from Mondrak at:

You are the Bee’s Knees, my friend!

Do You Want Sex?.

Even I Was Stunned! Do You Know How Hard It Is To Stun Me??

First be warned: This post is NOT for the faint at heart. If you are delicate, run screaming for the hills and do NOT read this. Okay, disclaimer done.

I gotta tell you, I’ve never in my life heard so many insane things within the span of one hour in my entire life. NEVER!! And I’m one of those people who other people tell everything to, but this adventure was sheer maddness!

After looking down at my toes (furry as they are) and shivering from their lack of pedicure-love, I realized I had two options: Get a pedicure or cut my feet off and dump them in a ditch. I opted for the least painful of the options.

I have a great place that gives amazing pedicures, so off I go. The place was packed. People everywhere. I finally got snuggled into my massage chair, put my feet in the warm, lavender-scented, bubbling water, put my spectacles on top of my head, closed my eyes, rolled off into a place of bliss, and then heard, “Damn, this flare up is the worst ever. I have to pee in a tub of warm water.”  Ummm…okay. I’m sure the herps is just a horrible thing to have and God bless people who’ve been unlucky enough to get it, but must we hear about it at the pedicurist?? I mean, I have very little filter,  but good grief! That is NO filter. At all. It wasn’t like she even whispered it. She was telling the pedicurist in a regular, conversational tone. I tried SO hard not to look over at her (or at her muff), which was incredibly difficult as my curiosity was KILLING me. If I was a cat, I’d be dead.

Alas, the story by no means ends there. In order for this to not be a 4000 word tome, I’m going to give you a list of things I was privy to while getting my feet buffed, waxed, scraped, razor-bladed, perfumed and painted.

From a guy across from me, talking to his pedicurist. Approximate age: 25.

  1. I’m not gay. I just like getting pedicures.
  2. (10 minutes later) I know I kinda look gay, but really I’m not.
  3. (30 seconds later) Well…except for that one time… but one time doesn’t make you gay.  (No, I am not shitting you. I about spit the gum outta my mouth laughing.)

From a chick next to the guy, talking on the phone. Approximate age: 40.

  1. Yeah, it finally happened last night and it hurt like hell.
  2. I didn’t think he was ever going to get in there.
  3. Did someone sew me closed and not tell me?
  4. There was blood all over the place.
  5. Then I told him to get out.

I can only begin to imagine that she was discussing losing her virginity? She seemed a bit up in the years for that, but what in the hell else could it be? I love how she told him to “get out” afterwards. I guess he served his purpose! ;) Good Lord…

From the chick next to me, on my right, talking to the chick she came in with. Approximate age: 30

  1. I am NEVER having a baby again. NEVER!
  2. That man has no idea what it’s done to my…(we’re going to pretend she said something ladylike, like “muff” or “hoo-ha”, alas, she did not.)
  3. I guess he’ll find out soon enough. Ha ha!
  4. I need to get back to my plastic surgeon. I can’t live my life like this. This sucks.
  5. Well, I already got my eyes, boobs, stomach and nose done. Why not there too? (Seriously, kill me. The picture in my head is more than I can bear!! :) )

Needless to say, the next time I get a pedicure I’m either going to bring earplugs or a tape recorder. I’ve never heard so many genital-related conversations in my life! It was worse than a trip to the gyno!


Image (without text) procured from:

Father’s Day Love for a Daddy who Lives in Heaven

Dear Daddy,

I miss you. You’ve been gone almost 32 years now, so you’d think I’d be used to it. But some days, I just really miss having a daddy around.

I want you to know that I love you. It wasn’t always easy being your daughter. There were times it was downright hard. But there were also times that were joyful and wondrous. I remember how Becky and I would run up to you and maul you when you’d get home from work. Sometimes we’d hide in the kitchen to try and scare you to death when you walked in the door. BOO! How sweet that you indulged us.

I remember how you’d bring us home surprises. Just little treats to make us smile. You know I now ask the hubby (though sometimes he just does it on his own) to bring me home a surprise. It reminds me so much of you.

I remember taking Daddy Foot Rides where you’d let me sit on your big foot, wrap my arms around your leg, and you’d drag me all over the house.

I remember being so proud of you when you stopped drinking.

I remember how much happier everything became when you were baptized.

I remember how awful it was to get the news you’d been shot in the head.

I remember how horrible it was to watch you live on a ventilator for 3 days.

I remember how kind the nurses were; how loving their hands were.

I remember knowing that one day I’d see you again in Heaven.

Over the years, I’ve often not done naughty things (think sex, drugs and rock-n-roll) because I knew you were up there, looking down on me. I wanted you to be proud.

Over the years, I’ve missed having my big strong Daddy there to cry on, laugh with and be escorted down the aisle by.

Over the years, I’ve become a strong, proud, independent woman because being your daughter helped me see how important that is.

Over the years, I’ve discovered that I am like you in so many ways. Mom says I get my love of muscle cars, fast driving and cussing from you. I love that.

If you had lived I have no doubt that I’d still be a virgin wearing baggy turtlenecks and skirts down to my ankles everyday, as no boy would ever have been good enough and you’d have scared the life out of any man that tried. I’m sure that even up in Heaven you were chagrined when I married the exact man you told me to stay away from. “Don’t bring any of those long-haired hippies home!” Well, I married two of them. A girl’s gotta rebel a little. I know you’d love my sweet hubby though, Daddy. He treats me like a princess. You’d be proud to call him, “Son.”

I miss you Daddy. While I’m not looking to go to Heaven any time in the near future, I sure hope it’s you who greets me when that blessed day does happen. It’s been too long since I’ve seen your handsome face.

I love you. Happy Daddy’s Day.

Your little girl, always…

Amazon is trying to kill me!!

Hey there, everyone!

I wanted to know if any other authors have had this problem on Amazon. My books have garnered incredible 5 star reviews on Amazon since being published. It’s been so delightful to see how many people enjoyed them and are happier now in their relationships. Well, last night I went on to check out the review pages as a few people had let me know that they’d posted reviews and ALL OF THE REVIEWS on one of my books had been removed and over half of the reviews on the other book were gone. WTF????

I called Amazon immediately and the department I need to speak with is closed on weekend. I imagine it’s a glitch, but if anyone else has experienced this, can you let me know how you handled it? This is so weird!! I’ve spent the last year and a half just delighted reading all of them and having them there for others to read and they are just GONE!

I did some research and apparently this does happen sometimes, but its horrifying!!



Image procured from:

Hang up your freaking phone while I pee or I will END you!

The next person who talks on the phone in a public bathroom while I am doing my girl-business is going to be on the receiving end of my wrath! ;)

As you guys know, I’m not a proponent of public bathroom anything. My husband doesn’t even know I have a colon or a bladder. He doesn’t need to know. I run the water in the bathroom when anything is going on because NO ONE needs to hear my “bidness.” I pretend I’m brushing my hair or teeth or something other than what I’m doing.

I do realize I am probably a bit insane about such things. If you’ve read my book excerpts, you know how I feel about potty-time. I’m a whacko, I know. But setting my insanity aside, who on God’s green earth thinks it’s appropriate, polite or at all acceptable to be on the phone in a public bathroom if anyone else is in there?

Let me set the stage for the tragic, horrifying phone/bathroom incident I bore witness to recently.

The hubby and I were having dinner in a really nice restaurant–no plastic utensils and they actually had tablecloths. We even had a lit candle on the table. It was lovely. At the end of the meal, I excused myself to go “powder my nose” and when I got to the bathroom it was clear that someone was having a rough time in there. Poor girl. As if being tummy-sick isn’t bad enough, but in public, at a fancy pants restaurant? Total suckage. But 5 glasses of water was taking its toll on me, so I had to stay in there. As I’m preparing to make my deposit, a chick walks in smacking gum like she was in a contest and loudly talking on her phone to a girlfriend. Here’s how it went:

Phone idiot: “Yeah, so I ordered the lobster. Why not? If he’s going to date me, he’s gotta pay! …I know! Right? Dumb ass man. I just wore my red dress…yeah, that’s the one. Whoa! What the hell is that smell? Did something die in here?”

There I am, hiding in a stall, thinking several things:

  • You stupid cow, get the hell out of the bathroom.
  • What a bitch to say such a thing where people can hear her.
  • Why are you on the phone in the toilet room?
  • You are clearly a gold digging whore so I hate you anyway. ;)
  • God, please don’t let her think that awful olfactory nightmare is coming from me! (Horribly selfish thought, I know.)

Phone idiot: “Jesus…I hear one girl peeing. Another girl is apparently dying. This place sucks.”

There I am, still hiding in my stall, thinking:

  • It’s a bathroom, you stupid moron. What else do you expect to find? A pedicure chair?
  • GET OUT so I can finish peeing.
  • Oh god, that poor sick girl. It’s just getting worse and worse it here. It’s humid from the misery in the stall 2 doors down. I’m going to die.
  • If I leave the stall now, I’m going to have to beat her to death with her phone. I don’t wanna go to jail. Remain in the stall!

Phone idiot: “I can’t believe anyone would do this in a public place! Can’t you wait until you get home?”

At this point, I’m done. D.O.N.E. Done! I’m going to leap over the stall door (think Superman here) and teach her a lesson on kindness and etiquette. I quickly get myself situated, roll up my sleeves, prepare myself for battle, come out of the stall, and this girl is Mike Tyson in a dress! If she didn’t spend 17 hours a day in the gym, then I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. SHIT!!! What to do now? Just because she’s Tyson (in both personality, looks and demeanor) doesn’t give her a free ride to be a douche bag. So, I gathered up all my strength, said a quick prayer about the safe continuation of my teeth in my mouth (she had HUGE, scary hands!) and said, “Excuse me. I need to get to the sink.” I washed my hands and ran for the door. Yep, I’m total chicken shit!!

Aside from my scaredy-cat behavior, the moral of the story is to GET OFF YOUR FRIGGIN’ PHONE IN THE BATHROOM!!! People want you dead when you are jabbering away on your cell, whether or not they say it. It’s horribly rude. And who wants to be on the other end of the phone listening to splishes and splashes and all kinds of icky stuff? The one place where a woman should always feel like she can take care of her business without an audience is a bathroom.

So, next time you are on the phone in a public bathroom just know that every person in there wants to kick your ass black and blue. They may be too polite (or chicken) to say anything, but if you were to catch fire and asked any of your bathroom victims for help, I’m quite certain none of them would even piss on you to put you out. Well, maybe they’d do that because the irony would be delicious, but I wouldn’t count on it. :)

Picture procured from: Smart ass commentary procured from my brain. :)

HOLY S*hitcakes!!! My Jaw is on the Floor!! (And that ain’t easy)


I’m so excited my heart is going to burst, my face is going to fall off and I’m likely going to pee myself!! Woo hoo!! :)

Check out this book review by professional book reviewer Joey Pinkney. It’s in the Arts and Entertainment section of the website The Examiner! I’m so friggin’ excited I’m going to implode!!!

“Man is a simple animal, indeed. Everything that he wants or needs is procured through hunting and gathering. But what about one of the things that he is hardwired to need the most: sex? For sex, the path of least resistance usually intersects with legal issues, to say the least.

Men, how do you get more sex out of the woman you love? Easy: make sure feel loved and comfortable. The challenge for a man becomes being able to do the things a woman needs as opposed to what a man thinks his woman needs. There is a distinct difference.

Enter Jodi Ambrose to the rescue with the open dialogue within Sex: How to Get More of It. It’s not a predator’s handbook on how to snag his latest “conquest”. Instead, it maps out the hows and the whys a man needs to understand in order to learn the nuances of the give and go of compromise with his female companion. This book is essentially the layman’s guide to the psychology of women.

Coming in at a brisk 30 pages, Sex: How to Get More of It is a quick read that is chock full of easy-to-understand information. Ambrose writes in a relaxed voice. She’s not afraid to drop a curse word here or there to spice her witty banter. Don’t let the wit and humor fool you, Ambrose really lets the male reader inside the inner-workings of a successful relationship with women in general.

The format of Sex: How to Get More of It is simple. After an intro to get you ready for the tone and language that will shortly follow, Ambrose gives you “The List”. This syllabus is the guide by which the rest of the handbook is based. Some are common sense, some are sappy and others might make most men cringe. But they all make sense one way or another, and that’s what make this book pure genius. Ambrose says in a few words what a psychologist would need a thesis to discuss.

What did I like about this book? The brevity. The sensibility. For instance, Ambrose lets it be known that there are some instances that it’s ok, and even pertinent, that you lie to keep a level of sanity in the relationship. (Q: “Does this [clothing item] make me look fat?” A: “No.”) I really like Ambrose’s conversational style. If you are easily offended by “adult” language, read Sex: How to Get More of It anyway because of the solid information.

In the genre of relationship books that come off as stuffy and detached, Ambrose brings a flare and panache along with common sense to give a man in need a hand indeed. If you are a man that wants to know a little more about how to “grease the wheel”, so to speak, this is a perfect book to reference now and again. In reading Sex: How to Get More of It, you begin to realize that it’s not about how to gain more sex. Jodi Ambrose points out how to get your woman to feel more comfortable and more secure in your relationship.” –Joey Pinkney

I know it shows me in my old red-headed disguise, but I don’t care!! I’m going to pass out. Yup…floor, here I come! :)