i shall stop bringing it up soon, really.

M has threatened to ruin my next episodes of Veronica Mars so he can have his wife back. He is claiming that it is Harry Potter all over again. I am claiming that he is a giant dork, and I can prove this by the conversation we had last night. He usually gets up earlier than he needs to in the morning, and I tend to hit snooze as many times as I can get away with. So I asked him last night if he would irritate me a little when my alarm went off, because I really needed to get up on time. He smirked at me for a few minutes and then said, "You want me to irritate you? I think I can do that." Seeing where he was going, I bopped him over the head, but not before he put on his most irritating voice and declared that women shouldn't be allowed to vote, and he loves Bill O'Reilly, and Bush is a fine president. And then I buried him in the backyard and.. oh, oops, nevermind that last part. He does love being irritating, that boy does. I should have known better than to encourage him.

I'm fairly sure there is nothing better than to crawl into a bed with clean sheets after having just showered. And on that note, I can't think of another reason in the world to write anything else here when just that is awaiting.