I'm sick today, just a cold, but sitting in bed like a princess. A fully dressed princess in her bed. Not because I'm trying to keep warm, but because I want to eat my lunch. And I can't eat my lunch unless I'm fully dressed.
This is just the way it is, and the way it's always been. The thought of getting a drop of jam on my bare thigh, or worse, a flake of croissant on my nipple, makes me feel sick. Well, not sick exactly, but all gross and tingly, and I get that shudder down my spine and I have to kick my legs and arms about wildly for a bit until it goes away.
I've never been able to understand the market for chocolate flavoured sex products. Ew, get them away from me. And pass me my overcoat, please.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
archive
- August 2011 (1)
- July 2011 (2)
- June 2011 (15)
- May 2011 (9)
- April 2011 (19)
- March 2011 (19)
- February 2011 (17)
- January 2011 (2)
- December 2010 (2)
- November 2010 (1)
- October 2010 (3)
- September 2010 (2)
- July 2010 (3)
- June 2010 (3)
- April 2010 (1)
- February 2010 (2)
- January 2010 (2)
- September 2009 (1)
- August 2009 (4)
- July 2009 (4)
- June 2009 (3)
- May 2009 (8)
- April 2009 (11)
- March 2009 (12)
- February 2009 (9)
- January 2009 (4)
- December 2008 (10)
- November 2008 (27)
- October 2008 (21)
- September 2008 (12)
- August 2008 (9)
- July 2008 (11)
- June 2008 (5)
- May 2008 (5)
- April 2008 (12)
- March 2008 (10)
- February 2008 (11)
- January 2008 (15)
- December 2007 (10)
- November 2007 (9)
- October 2007 (3)
- September 2007 (9)
- August 2007 (8)
- July 2007 (10)
- June 2007 (13)
- May 2007 (14)
- April 2007 (11)
- March 2007 (11)
- February 2007 (12)
- January 2007 (9)
- December 2006 (4)
- November 2006 (10)
- October 2006 (8)
- September 2006 (12)
- August 2006 (19)
- July 2006 (22)
- June 2006 (7)
- May 2006 (25)
- April 2006 (18)
- March 2006 (5)
- April 2004 (1)
- November 1998 (1)
- March 1980 (1)
Before anyone gets worried that this implies a prudish of lack of kink on Annie's part, I'd like to reassure everyone that when she says "fully dressed", she really means it.
ReplyDeleteRubber boots, a shiny black raincoat and one of those bright orange fishermen's hats...
I am a prude. Prude and proud.
ReplyDeleteAnd those fishermen's hats are yellow, by the way.
Being in Iceland, isn't it obligatory that you have to wear a fisherman's hat at all times, including eating in bed, anyway?
ReplyDeleteFisherman's hat in bed? What are you afraid of being hosed with?
ReplyDeleteI quite like the idea of the decadency of eating naked in bed. Although the idea of jam - or egg yolk, for example, - on one's thigh/breast is not terribly appealing. But considerably easier to wash than off a nice clean top.
ReplyDeleteEgg yolk on my breast, oh god, gross, gross...
ReplyDeleteEating in the bedroom at all makes my teeth go funny.
ReplyDeleteI also have to eat fully dressed, hairy chests are prime places for losing enough crumbs to feed a small child.
hey annie- haven't read you in a while but catching up now i'm rehoused at blogger. this food/bed separation makes sense to me. mainly because my girlfriend is a little ocd. someone played an 'amusing' prank on her: they put pistachio nuts in her bed. she almost lamped them.
ReplyDeleteHey! Love your new blog. Good to "see" you. xxx
ReplyDeletei completely agree, i sleep naked, but always put something on before saturdays coffee and toast in bed.
ReplyDelete