So the sad reality of my dating life is that McBicep has yet to kiss me. The even sadder reality of my dating life is that McBicep leaves in about a week for a 3-month long internship in Detriot.
What makes me more sadder about this dating reality is having to come into work every Monday and respond to the prodding of the supers with a resounding, dejected sigh. No, I didn't get kissed this weekend. Again. No, I didn't even try to hold his hand. Again. Yes, I'm sure he's not gay. Yes, really, he's not gay. Because I know! Better luck next weekend.
I'm tired of having to tell everyone about my kissing failures - isn't it enough that McBicep is still calling me and taking me out? Isn't it enough that we've gone out every single weekend since January? Isn't it enough that he pays for everything? Isn't it enough that he laughs at my lame jokes and hangs out with my friends and is letting me have his piano for the summer?
The correct answer is yes, it should be enough. But try telling that to a bunch of construction workers who like to bust my balls every chance they get. I can't tell you how many rounds of "Gay / Not Gay" I've gone over the walky talkies with guys on the job site.
So I've decided to start lying to everyone just to get them off my back. My favorite lie comes courtesy of Hey Mikki You So Fine, who advised the following: "Tell them he took you out for a picnic, read you a poem about your hair, and then wrapped it around his massive manly finger and pulled you in..."
On the plus side, however, I will be the proud new babysitter of a 2002 red Camaro convertible in pristine condition that I am too terrified to even drive around the neighborhood out of fear of something happening to it and me losing my life. Yes folks, McBicep is entrusting me to keep an eye on his most prized posession while he's in Michigan. In other words, he gets free storage. Sigh.
But instead of debating the tits and tats of whether or not McBicep is simply taking advantage of my kindness, lets focus on the task at hand: creating the perfect goodie bag for his roadtrip. I was bouncing ideas off G, and all I could come up with was filling a cooler with trail mix, Diet Pepsi, apples, dried fruit and gum. Have I mentioned that McBicep eats like a caveman? And since I don't know how to cook chicken or burgers, mastodon wing is my only other option. Except that mastodon's don't even have wings. So there goes my last idea.
G's idea was for me to revert back to my previous fail-safe method that was supposed to get me kissed.
G: It would be great if you could make cinnamon rolls again and send him on his way full of delicious, cinnamony, chewy, frosting covered love.
Bone Junior: How would I package those for him to take?
G: I dont know - individually wrapped in Bone Junior and foil maybe?
You read correctly. G's idea was for me to wrap the cinnamon rolls in myself and send him on his way. It turned out to be a Freudian slip, but I like that idea - after all, who doesn't like a cinnamon roll wrapped in Bone Junior?
So this is where I need your help. A) Coming up with suitable and accordingly funny lies; and B) Ideas for McBicep's cross-country goodie bag. If no one responds, then shame on you all for making a mockery of my life, and I hereby tender my resignation as resident blogger.
**If anyone actually gets that reference, you have earned my eternal respect.