When you’re single and have no tax credits, you can pretty much live as you wish.
Don’t get me wrong and don’t go getting all preachy on me. I’m sure one day I’ll marry again. And I’m sure one day I won’t have kids again. Love’em both. But I don’t have either now so I don’t live like I do.
(I’m not that bad.)
(But I’m no Disney channel either.)
I took part in a little holiday festivities the other day. The kind that call for gag gifts. Which are really the only kind I like to partake in.
(I like that word: partake.)
I got the best of the best of gag gifts. Ever.
The kind that will not be re-gifted. Ever.
And it’s from Italy.
Actually, there were two parts to the gift. And both parts were from Italy.
(Si, si senorita.)
One part was a real live bottle of Olio Extra Vergine Di Oliva.
(No, not vargina. Vergine.)
Allow me to translate: Extra Virgin Olive Oil.
The other part of the gift is hung.
Well, in my kitchen.
On the side of my fridge…cause I just couldn’t dare fold him up and put him in a drawer.
(A man I was once married to, I could. In pieces.)
(But not this one.)
(Is that incriminating or something? That ass bag.)
It’s an apron. Yes. An apron.
How wrong would it be to go on a date and request my date wear this?
At the table. During dinner.
Or at the movies. Eating popcorn. Or really anywhere.
I had to kinda tuck it down between my counter and fridge because well, sometimes that-dude-missing-two-tooths-who-lives-next-door-and-plays-his-music-too-loud will bring over my mail or something.
That would make me look creepy to have a naked man hanging in full view.
(If I wanna go for creepy, I’ll just wear it when I take the trash out.)
(Cause if a chick with stone balls isn’t creepy, I’m quite certain I’m not sure what is.)
So, in my kitchen I have this naked David guy.
Next to the bottle of extra virgin olive oil.
So, until the day comes I am no longer living alone and still have no kids, I will live as I wish.
Happy. Joyful. Giggly. Mischievous.
With a naked man on my fridge.