...don't throw around the phrase "sex slave" when we're working at that place we work together on Tuesdays.
That religious place.
That place where strange people come to us for help and advice.
People who have a working sense of hearing.
People I am sitting right next to.
People with male, uh, equipment.
Even if we are members of a formerly-polygamous religion and like to joke about our husbands marrying other women so they can cook and clean, while we, as the preferred first wives, live simply to "service" our husbands...
Because the thought of you being a sex ANYTHING is more grotesque than eating an entire jar of mayonnaise...
Because you and your husband are among the laziest people I've ever had the misfortune of meeting - "It's 8:30. Can we close up early and go home to bed now?"...
Because your husband makes rude remarks when my husband arrives on time to pick me up, like, "Boy, he likes to cut it close!"...
Because of all this and so much more...
I would really love it if you would never, never, never, never, NEVER and I mean NEVER EVER EVER EVER AGAIN...
Just never, ever...
I really - just - please, don't ever....
Seriously... gagging now...
*shudder*
Please don't ever put me in another situation where I feel like injecting Liquid Drano directly into my brain.
Thanks in advance.
5 comments:
I hear you on this. Sometimes I am even surprised at what is said over the pulpit these days! Sheez! I'm glad my kids aren't paying attention.
I don['t refer to myself and slave in any context. I am to be waited upon.
So far I have got the family in on that thought. I hope it lasts.
On one hand I am sorry that you have to listen to such unpleasant verbage. On the other hand, it got you posting, so I am a bit excited about that ;D
I'm sorry I don't post more often but I have to wait until I have an unfortunate Mr./ Mrs. Ick story. Or until something else really torks me off. Sad but true.
You brought this on yourself, you know. Quit singing Britney's 'I'm A Slave 4 U' in the middle of a churchy calling and it will save you a lot of grief.
I don't want to think about the junk that Mr. Ick is packing. You writing "equipment" made me a wee bit gaggy.
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