I have to tell you something.
There is a ghost in my house. And he is a pervert.
My husband and I were getting it on (in this crazy position where I was like kinda on my side with one leg in the air and the other was behind my head-I dunno, whenever we have sex or I consume two shots of vodka I get really flexible) and I feel like something is watching me.
So I tell M. to hold on and he's like "You're not going to text K (best friend) are you?" Believe me, at that point, there wasn't much to talk about, so no.
So I put all my joints back into place and kinda do this little crawl in to the dining room and there's nothing there. Everything is just as it is. (Oh, yeah, we were fucking in the living room). So I start to shimmy back to the living room and all of a sudden three books just fall on the ground.
So not only is this ghost being a voyeur and watching us get it on, he's also trying to scare the hell out of me.
Bastard.
No comments:
Post a Comment