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The daughters are having a belching contest. My work here is done.
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@emilybrianna I would totally nap with you. (Really! I mean an actual nap, all innocent like littermate kittens and stuff. What?!)
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Q: What's worse than still having enough pain & bloating that I have to wear my surgery pants?
A: The fact that I own "surgery pants."
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I realize this last one was about healthcare and was relevant to current maladies, but the bizarre dreams with Hillary in them can stop now.
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@abigvictory Yippee! And there will be more elections, too. And...I can still tweet about my dog, right? (*crawls off to weep inconsolably*)
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Say I get the hysterectomy & my libido dies. That nixes PMS & sex as tweetable topics. What am I left with? "Kids say the darnedest things"?
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@tehawesome Happy to oblige! Now fetch me some Percocet, Mr. Funny Man.
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@califmom Seriously thinking about serving mine with an eviction notice.
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@ayse Ha! Great minds think alike: http://tr.im/1594 (I just wish my own articulation of that notion had been so spectacularly concise.)
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Boobs: Lovely body parts to have, even when one no longer needs them for their specific, species-sustaining function.
Uterus: Not so much.
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When I am Queen, menstrual cramps will be outlawed.
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@secretsquirrel Kinda like I had no idea my other username (@beanqueen) could be taken as a clit reference! (Or so says @FarkerPeaceboy.)
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@girlmonkey Today is "National Confess to Weird Things That Have Happened To or In Your Mouth Day." Did you not receive the memo?
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@gordonshumway I once chipped my tooth on a toilet seat. That's LOTS dorkier.
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@abigvictory Just how many people *are* you, lady? You're like a content-generating MACHINE. A veritable Duracell Bunny of the Internets.
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@pomeranian99 Well done, sir!
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@SeoulBrother Did You Know? "Alabama Businessman" is one of many southern synonyms for the iconic mullet. (See also "The Secret Squirrel.")
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Oh Jimi Hendrix. Fuggettabout "Manic Depression" being such a frustrating mess. What about sexual frustration? Isn't that the *real* crisis?
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For those not already struggling beneath the firehose of my tweeted verbiage: my infrequently voiced alter-ego may be found here: @beanqueen
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Woke up with intense desire to clean the house. Not pregnant, so it can't be "nesting." Did somebody switch out my brain cells in the night?
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