Riley Murphy's Blog, page 3

Arsenic and Oh, What A Case!

 

First things first. I’ll get the bad…or, in my case, sad over with before we get to the happy. A Honey story. Yay!

For those of you who’ve been following my blog for a while you know I’m fairly consistent when it comes to publishing books and doing posts, right? So you were probably wondering why I’ve been a little lax with both those endeavors over the past several months.

The short answer?

Arsenic poisoning.

*Looks right at you* It’s no joke. Here I am wondering why I was feeling so unlike myself and boom! One hair test later I find out I have a rather large problem. I nearly flipped when I got my very expensive and independent panel done. I was convinced that everything would check out. It’s no wonder when the lab called right away to tell me (that’s law by the way) I nearly passed out.

Honey, of course is freaking out. I haven’t seen the poor guy this distraught since I went into labor with our son.

WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

 

Okay, so Honey and I were having one of our infamous chats about the universe and something interesting came up. Actually, *Looks right at you* several interesting things came to my attention, but I am going to focus in on just one.

An EMP attack of global proportions.

I know, deep, right?

For those of you who aren’t familiar with the term, it’s an Electromagnetic pulse attack that would basically wipe out our infrastructure. No electronics, no sewer, no electric, no water…yeah, no nuthin’ we’d be living like the cavemen in no time. *sigh* I hate to ponder about these things, but sometimes you have to.

*Thinks for a second* Then? *Points at you*

This doesn’t mean you can’t make the solution be one that is fun and uplifting to think about.

Honey calls this “my making Lemon meringue pie out of a watermelon moment”, but whatever.

So here’s the conversation:

I say, “You know I was thinking about imminent global threats today and this one came to me.”

“Oh boy.” He sat down and lifted a brow at me. “Am I going to need a drink, or will this just have me buying more life insurance?”

Haha! The latter was always a good idea. “No seriously. I was thinking about an EMP attack and it made very, very sad.”

Now both his brows went up. “I’d be devastated. No electronics? I’m the one who watches TV.”

Yeah, yeah, that was true, but for this conversation, I didn’t want to focus in on the fallout details. Hollywood and every Debbie downer on the planet had those things covered. I wanted to envision an upside to the end game of this kind of attack – any kind of attack actually. So I said this to him and funny enough – he was interested.

“An upside to societal breakdown? I gotta hear this and don’t tell me Batman arrives to save the day or that aliens land and stop the war.” He shook his head. “And don’t frown. I know you too well so I know how your writer’s mind works.”

*Raises my hand to you and acknowledges, guilty! I’m always inventing possible plot scenarios that cover just about any outlandish or fanciful thing* NOT that I was going to admit this to him.

A Night Spent With Honey That I Shall Memorialize!

 

I had to share. This had me LMAO!

Okay, so here’s the deal. We’ve had a boatload of company lately hence the slow blog posts being published – but we’re having fun with family so it’s all good. Anyways, Honey and I rented a pontoon boat and took the gang to a beautiful natural spring a few hours from where we live. We got to see/swim with all kinds of great wildlife (Lots of manatees) birds, fish, etc.

It was a wonderful day. Seriously. Great company and beautiful weather. So, when the day was over I was ready to fall into bed. Only? Honey was standing at the double doors to our room waiting for me.

*Looks right at you*

Honey doesn’t usually do this. We have a routine, you know? And this wasn’t part of it. So when I see him, here’s the conversation.

“Hey, is everything okay? What’s up?”

“I’m waiting.”

I shut the blinds on one of the sliders and ask, “For?”

“You. You gotta see this.”

So there I am heading into our room thinking the poochie, who has her own king-size doggie bed that I fluff for her every

Spoiled? Don’t ask. But I digress…

I stopped when I got into the room and saw that Honey hadn’t undressed. There I was thinking, Hmm…I bet I know where this is going. Inwardly I smiled and had that female attitude vibe happening when I coyly ask, “Okay, lover, what’s up?”

He flashes one of his patented smiles and says, “This.”

That’s when he takes off his shirt and I see the front of him. No word of a lie, people. He’s as red as a delicious apple from his broad shoulders to hips he’s one huge fireball. “Oh, boy.” I may have said that, but I was thinking, “Good, Lord, do we have some Noxzema in the house?”

I was just about to go find out when he announces in a deep and very husky voice, “Tonight, darlin’, you’ll be sleeping with Hellboy.”

Hahaha! True in every sense of the word. Actually, truer would have been Furnace-Boy – holy moly was he a bastion of boiling heat all night. *Le sigh* I found myself hugging the edge of the bed to keep away from the flames. Funny thing was, I kept teasing him during the day on the boat because he’d put the sunscreen on so thickly all over himself, he looked like Casper the ghost until the lotion was absorbed. How the heck did he wind up lobsta-red???

Crazy.

Upside? We now have enough money to visit all seven celestial planets at the end of the year on account of the swear jar being filled to overflowing. Between Honey and all my guests? Yup, I’ve been making out like a bandit on that score.

A Honey Quickie!

I bet you didn’t think that was possible…but it is!

Haha.

Anyways, still working away on things here and had to laugh. Last night Honey and I were watching a movie, and well, maybe I should backtrack a little. Remember how I told you guys that I had the swear jar being loaded up for our trip to Mars at the end of the year? You know, because Honey swears a lot *looks right at you* now that I’m counting it’s a gargantuan amount.

The point is he keeps filling the jar, sometimes he shoves in extra dough for future disobedience. *Lifts brow at you* Yeah, that doesn’t please me. I finally came to the conclusion that the only thing I’m accomplishing here is another savings account. *Le sigh.”

What to do…? *Taps index fingernail on front tooth* What. To. Do?

Enter the lightbulb moment here.

Quite calmly, during a commercial, of course, I’m not that much of a witch with a b in front of it to make him miss the show — I tell him the money thing isn’t working.

Here’s the conversation.

“I’ve been thinking about the swear jar project and I’ve decided we’re going to have to switch things up a little.”

He kind of side-eyes me and says, “Oh?” It was the type of Oh that said, “Nah, nah, nah. I won!”

Aggravating? Don’t ask.

So I side-eye him right back. “Yes. I’m afraid if I don’t do something soon, you’re going to have our grandson swearing like a pirate by the time he’s five and I can’t have that so…”

Now I have his attention. He turns to look directly at me. “So? What are you scheming now?”

“No scheme.” I lied. It was a scheme and darn good one too. “I’ve just decided to put a moratorium on the cash jar, and exchange your penalty for conversations.”

He scowled while suspiciously eyeing me at the same time. My bliss? Yeah, it was soaring when he said, “Um…What now?”

“My conversations that is. You know the ones. About all my crazy theories and questions and what do call them? I can’t say because then I’d owe the jar, but a big pile of BS, that’s what. Anyways,” I rushed on as he looked ready to freak out. “Here’s the deal. Every time you swear, I’m marking it down and with each breaking of the law I get to have a conversation with you about one of my BS thoughts.”

Him in rapidly fire questioning mode. “Is there a time limit?”

I shake my head.

“Are there parameters on the level of the types of swear words I use?” (I could bore you with the details here and spell out the list of blasphemies he ran down, but I won’t). You’re welcome.

Holy Batman’s Under Amour! This IS A Drill!!!

Okay, I want a show of hands. How many people have heard of Operation Gotham Shield?

Yeah, me neither until a few days ago when someone on my twitter feed dropped a link. Love my Twitter friends! Anyway, for those of you who don’t know – this is a USA military drill exercise where they are going to pretend that a nuclear threat of 4 bombs have been discovered in 4 different locations across America. Two of these bombs will be terminated by our crack military people and two will -unfortunately (pretend) to explode. One over NYC and the other near the Canadian border.

Here’s the link: https://youtu.be/sz8gHF1kxYc

And here’s the conversation I had with Honey about it:

Imagine me pacing back and forth and frowning as I try to come up with a good “break the ice” intro into this one. *leans in to whisper* If you’re new to my blog and Honey stories, I should tell you the man doesn’t like to talk about covert operations, anything to do with ghosts, and nothing to do with our military doing training exercises after 911. Did I mention that they were doing a drill exercise – on the very day that the planes hit the towers? They were. Even more stunning is that the drill focused on hijacked planes hitting the twin towers. This is why Honey doesn’t like to think about that.

Me?

I think about everything. Yeah, I’m probably that person who would sit next to you during a scene from a scary movie and explain how they could have made the images scarier. Drives Honey nuts.

Yay! I live to make Honey bonkers! Poor Honey.

Let me set the scene. Honey and I sit down to have our afternoon chat and I decide on the old “ripping the band aid off” strategy about broaching the subject.

“I can tell you had a great day. You’re home early.”

As expected he took a deep breath in and then let it out as if he was kind of deflated. “Do I want to know what that is? Remember I told you that I’m trying to destress? I stopped listening to the radio during the day and you know I watch my how-to videos and documentaries at night.”

And there’s me blinking not at all. “Yeah, yeah. I know. You want to know what Gotham Shield is. Trust me.”

After he agreed to listen, and I explain it to him, he shook his head and said, “This is right up there with Jade Helm.”

Hm. I probably should have asked if you’ve heard of that military project. Not that Honey and I discuss these things at lengths. We don’t. But we do shoot the breeze about the weird stuff going on in the world once in a while that has no basis in regular old common sense.

Here’s the link on Jade Helm. Reader’s Digest version? The military played war games for two months during 2015 in a few states. Some people weren’t happy about it either…but back to our conversation.

Thinking about the other military drill, in 2001 I said, “I’m praying that this Gotham Shield doesn’t have any reality thrown in. It better not.”

We’re both silent for a few seconds and then Honey nods. “Me too. Maybe we should insist all of Congress fly to New York at the beginning of the week and hold hands around the statue of Liberty while singing Kumbaya repeatedly.”

I would have laughed, but seriously, I was still mulling over the idea because maybe we should do that,

Honey, Honey, Honey. HONEY!

Okay, when reading that title you’re supposed to sing it to the tune of, Money, money, money. Money!

Why?

Because Honey is priceless.

***COMING SOON*** PERMIT ME***

This is Caleb White and Genevieve Talbot’s story.

She saved his life and in return, she wants his hand in marriage

EXCERPT

Smack! Slap!

Silence for several seconds and then…?

Smack! Slap!

With a scowl, he sat forward and put his cell down on the end table. Then he collected his cane and got up to go investigate. The minute he exited his room, he scowled.

He’d been right about the sound. It was a slap/smack combo. But what the ever-living-hell was the woman doing?

He blinked.

Scratch that. What was she wearing?

Right now Genevieve stood with her back to him giving him a perfect view. And what a view. The globes of her ass shone right through the sheer black bikini undies she had on. Her hair and shirt were wet, while she seemed to be waiting. No, collecting herself, for what, though?

“Come on, come on, come on.” That’s all she said when she shook her arms out at her sides as though she was shaking off water and then took a running jump at her bedroom door frame. Caleb didn’t know what to ogle first. Her legs, nice and shapely, her ass, nice and curvy, or her chest that bounced, despite the wet T-shirt clinging to her torso. He went with the latter as she landed abruptly facing him, only a few feet further from him now.

Her nipples were so hard they clearly showed through the tissue-thin material of her top.

“Oh!” She gasped. “Caleb, I didn’t know you were there.”

It took all the strength he had to tear his gaze away from her breasts, but when he did he was struck by how calm she was. It pissed him off because currently a massive amount of heightened adrenaline was ripping through him. His every instinct was to hunt, capture, and claim. “What are you doing?”

Her serene expression vanished, and in its place was concern. “Do you have a cold? Are you sick? You sound a little hoarse.”

No. Not ill. His frustration just made him sound as if he’d swallowed some glass. “I asked you a question.”

“I got locked out. I’ve been trying to reach the pin at the top of the door to open it.”

He glanced at the pinnacle of the door frame and immediately spotted the silver object laying there. Without a word he stepped forward, reaching for it. “Here,” he said, and when she accepted the needle-like object with a smile, he frowned. “Mighty convenient that you got locked out of your room in a wet T-shirt and a pair of see-through underwear.”

He turned and had taken no more than a few steps when he heard the pop of the lock sound before her door bashed against an inside wall. Clearly, she’d opened it. “And what is that supposed to mean, Caleb?”

He stopped and pivoted back around to face her. She was probably used to the men in her life who ate this kind of manipulative shit up. Not him. “That you purposely dressed that way to entice me.”

She glared and then lifted her chin. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He blinked.

She glared harder.

What was going on here? This was the part where she was supposed to apologize for pulling this kind of submissive sexist thing on him. “Apologize.”

“Alright.” She may have agreed, but it didn’t sound like it. In fact, it didn’t look like it either when her eyes sparkled with hellfire. “I’m sorry that the skies opened up and I had to run outside to save the hay I bought for the roses. Far be it from me to spoil your…your…your hall walking with my scanty attire because I slipped in the muddy patch in the vegetable garden and after I left my pants in the laundry room downstairs to wash later, I came up here to find my door locked. If only it hadn’t been raining. If only my pants hadn’t been so muddied. If only my door hadn’t been locked and if only I’d been a foot and half taller like you so I could reach this—” She threw the pin at him, and while he let go of his cane to catch it she finished her speech rather calmly, “Then you could have walked down these halls without being offended by my see-through lingerie.”

She hadn’t moved a muscle to hide any part of herself or her less than modest attire. So even though he was irritated that she was getting to him, he did respect her unbending confidence. “It wasn’t your kick-ass panties that I found offensive. It’s your flying-in-the-face of no modesty when you’re around me that puts a burr under my saddle. Aren’t you supposed to be a sub for Christ’s sakes?”

One minute he was growling out that nonsensical question and in the next, he moved forward. He didn’t know what he was going to do until he did it.

He dropped the metal pin, trying to ignore the small ting it made when it hit the hardwood, and pulled her in his arms. She was cold. He felt the goose bumps riding her flesh and when he bent and captured her mouth with his, he imagined her chill being chased away by the flames that licked at him.

Hot and consuming.

She melted so beautifully against him that he wanted more. He wanted her closer. Pressed against— “Fuck.”

They abruptly hit the wall when his leg gave out. Fortunately, he was able to cushion the jarring move, at least for her when he made sure his body stayed between her and the wall.

This was not how things were supposed to go on so many levels. It wasn’t.

He tried to temper his growl but failed.

“No. Caleb. Wait…”

But it was too late. Already he managed to set her apart from him when he bent to pick up his cane. He was halfway to his room when she raised her voice. She’d never raised her voice to him before. Not even a few moments ago when she was furious over his accusation. It brought him up short and made him stop and turn. He opened his mouth, ready to tell her he had to go. That she had to leave him alone, but then he saw that wet T-shirt, those nicely rounded breasts cradled so spectacularly in the revealing fabric and words he hadn’t counted on uttering sailed right off his tongue. “Take it off.”

She did.

One arm crossed over the other when she found the hem of her shirt and lifted. Her breasts bounced, hypnotizing him as she dropped the garment to the floor. He didn’t want to move, so only his eyes did when their gazes met.

Calm. She was the very epitome. Hang on. There was an odd gleam in her eyes.

Was she silently challenging him? He didn’t think so, but he had to ask. “Why did you do it?”

She raised a brow, and he loved it.

“I meant, why did you take off your top?”

Not one drop of hesitation in her reply, “Because you told me to.”

That hit him like a trough of smelling salts under the nose. “I’m not your sir.”

“Good thing, Caleb. I would hate to have to point out to my sir how he’d just insulted me.”

She bent, snatched up her top, and walked into her room. Although he was a good five feet away he still felt as if she’d slammed the door in his face. What the actual fuck? How had he insulted her?

She was crazy.

But then as he made his way back to his own room with visions of her without her top and those sexy bikini bottoms on, and he realized two things. Any man leaving a woman who looked like her standing alone when she was half naked and willing was insulting, and too, the fact that he had? Made him the crazy one. Not her.

Damn…

(END)

We’re working on a release day “Build-a-giveaway”! Have you seen these guys? They’re salt and pepper shakers. Caleb bought a set for Genevieve because she makes him do “Chopped” kitchen nights in the story – so I’m giving a set away.

Next up to add to the build-a-giveaway is a 25.00 Amazon gift card!

We have a couple of more weeks where I will be adding some great things, so be sure to subscribe (if you haven’t already) when you do you’re automatically entered for a chance to win. But then if you leave a comment each time I add a new blog with a new item I add your name again to the hat for more chances to win!

Thanks for stopping by and check this out! It’s the latest teaser.

Riley

 

#1 BESTSELLER FOR KW CONTEMPORARY! ME WITH PINK HAIR & A BUILD-A-GIVEAWAY!

So, um…you notice anything different about me? LOL! When THE WILD ONE started to move on Amazon’s Bestselling list Honey told me that it would reach #1. I said, “No Way.”

To which he responded, “Yes way!”

That’s when we decided to settle the dispute in a very adult and mature way. If I won he had to go to the corner of the street in our neighborhood with a sign that read, MY WIFE IS ALWAYS RIGHT AND I SHOULD NEVER MAKE A BET WITH HER, or if he won, I swore to post two pictures of me in the pink hair. *Looks right at you* long story about the pink hair, but I’ll give you the Reader’s Digest version. I bought the hair to surprise Honey – unfortunately, when it came it was more neon than a pale pink, so it surprised him alright! Especially when I flicked on the black light. Heheh.

I look so sad, don’t I? I was. You wanna know why? It was the first time I ever put on false eyelashes. If you look real close you’ll see one of them landed half way up my lid and got glued there. *Shakes head* I have a whole new respect for women who put those suckers on more than once in a lifetime, I can tell you that. Oh, and I put on the black shirt so I’d be a floating neon head when Honey was treated to the black light effect. Sounds awesome, doesn’t it?

Yeah, no, it wasn’t. Trust me. Poor Honey.

The Blind, The Deaf, and A Determined Alpha Male…

 

I bet you can’t guess where this is going. *thinks for exactly a half of a second and then deadpans at you* NOT! You guys know for sure this is going to be a classic Honey story!

*Shrug*

That’s why I love you. *Rubs hands together* Okay, where to start?

Last night Honey made dinner because of the deal we carved out long ago. It goes something like this. If I call the in-laws and speak to them at length, he does the cooking and taking care of Madge (my mom). A fair trade, right? I mean while I have an interesting discussion with my MIL, he’s putting together our hunk of meat with two sides of carbohydrates. Yeah, he’s never gotten the corn and baked potato combo right, and quite frankly, I’m getting too old to fight about such things. There are only so many times you can say, “Put some frigging greens on the plate!” Before you silently say to yourself “Screw the salad. I’ll skip the taters.”

Hey, do you guys want to see how the in-law game works in our house? It goes like this:

 

Kidding. We love our jack- *cough, cough* in-laws!

But to get back to Honey and Madge. After I finish with my conversation with his family, I head into the kitchen which is connected to our family room. And what do I find besides the double carbs cooking and the BBQ outside the window smoking away? Honey and Madge discussing the movie he’s put on for my mom.

I love Madge, but it would be remiss of me not to tell you that in her earlier years (those I will categorize as every day before she turned eighty-five) she was a piece of work. If you’ve been reading this blog for a while you might remember some of the Madge capers. If not, let me assure you. The woman could have put the CIA, FBI, and sneaky little spying aliens in yonder deep-space a run for their flying saucers. Now, however, she’s lost a little steam in the comprehension department. It doesn’t slow her down, which is frightening for me, but it is sad when she’s watching a movie or something because we get a clear picture into the world she now lives in. It’s a place that makes it hard for her to connect certain dots.

But not to worry. Honey is always there to the rescue. Nice and scary at the same time. Check this out. He put on a romantic comedy for her to watch and when she didn’t get the simple boy-meets-girl plot with added conflict for a grand resolve, I hear Honey explaining when the characters wind up in a heated embrace behind some drying bed sheets hanging in a yard.

“Yeah, it’s okay, because they were married before. They didn’t have any kids and it had been a while since they met up again.”

As I’d seen the movie before, there is me thinking, That’s not right.

And Madge nodding. “Good. I was wondering why the two of them were so frisky for each other.”

Then Honey starts to dig in deeper with his explanation of things and even I’m enthralled. By the time he was done speaking about all kinds of events that purportedly happened to this couple – a robbery that had happened at some point bringing this couple together, the kidnapping of one of their dogs, being abducted by aliens, the car chase, and the natural disaster they had lived through only to be separated in the end by their differing dreams, my jaw was resting on the floor. For a second I thought he was gas-lighting my mom when I wasn’t around, and maybe she wasn’t legitimately losing her marbles. But then I noticed something. My mom was paying attention to the movie now with more focus and enthusiasm. That’s when it hit me. Honey had rewritten the script to get her invested.

Oh sure, he’d borrowed themes from Natural Born Killers, Independence Day, Bengi, Gone In Sixty Seconds, and Dante’s Peak, but did that matter if the end result was Mom being engaged in this couple’s journey? I didn’t think so until I heard her ask.

“Where’s the dragon?”

Aaaaand, that’s when I did a double-take. Dragons? Seriously? *Looks right at you* They were watching The Wedding Planner!

Honey didn’t miss a beat. “You see? You’re not the only one around here who’s forgetful. The dragons aren’t in this movie. I just realized that those guys are going to show up in the sequel.”

Listening to my mom tell Honey that it was okay. That she knew how tough it was to forget, my heart smiled, you know? But then he started to tell her about this sequel that never was and I realized the man was nuts. Somehow his dragons had morphed into the Land Before Time, but if my mom noticed he was mixing up the dinosaur/dragon thing she never said a word. She just made him promise that when it came out, he’d buy it for her.

Aw…I waited a minute or two and then I went to give him a hug. While I did, I closed my eyes and whispered to him, “I love your version of movies for Mom.”

And he whispered back, “Great because I have a really dirty version of Last Tango in Paris I’m going to share with you, later on tonight.”

Bah! Me thinks the man was put on this earth to drive me crazy! Meh, I’m not going to complain. Why? This is what I love best about him.

Which got me to thinking…If you guys get nothing else from my blog posts and stories, I hope you get this one thing. We are all connected in amazing ways to the people around us, that has nothing to do with business, politics, race, or gender, but there is one thing we all have in common that we can’t escape. A worldview. I’m privileged enough to share mine with you through my stories and blog posts, so I hope you know it goes something like this.

Time is precious because it’s finite.

Love is consuming because it touches the soul.

But, yeah, if I was going to give you the Reader’s Digest version of such Homely-Philosopher-deep ponderings

Ménage à trois, HONEY, AND A CUCUMBER…

 

 

A little 2017 surprise! This is my smoking hot ménage story that is set to release on Valentine’s Day. I’m in this anthology with a whole bunch of talented authors! Lia Davis

Angelica Dawson, Auriella Skye, Sara Wylde, TL Reeve, Cassandra Carr, Dylan Quinn, Nicole Morgan, N Kuhn, Amy Brent.

The collection is up for preorder on Amazon – just click the picture above if you want to nab this while it’s on sale for 0.99 cents! What a deal!

 

Now For Honey who was home for the holidays. *Looks right at you* Home. With. Me. *Shakes head* Here’s how that went…

Man, I couldn’t let this one go. Seriously. You’ll see why in a minute. Let us call this little Honeyism, “The Way Things Were!”

Why you may ask? Simple. Life has changed for me in a big way.

How you may ask? Easy. I have learned how to use the text to speech application on my phone.

*Deadpans* If you don’t have this ability ask Santie Claus to bring you a new phone with this magic on it as a post-holiday present. Holy moly! Life changing is understating what this new feature has done for me (not really new – but much like the car navigation system that I never learned how to use correctly) this speech thing is awesome!!!

Example? Honey had to visit a couple of job sites over the holidays, so one particular time I suggested that he stop at the grocery store on his way home. Only? I discovered he forgot the grocery list I’d written for him on the counter.

No problem.

I did my nifty microphone text magic but, um, *cough, cough* It occurred to me whilst I was doing it that I could have some fun here. Heheheheh.

The list went something like this:

Milk

Eggs

Sour cream

(I listed a few more various general items here)

Then I get to the vegetables:

Tomatoes

One thick, long, devoid of any prickly nubs, cucumber. Make sure it’s weighty in your palm, and for heaven’s sake, when you get home don’t put it in the fridge. I like my darling vegetable to be warm to the touch.

Spring onions

Oh, and PLEASE don’t forget the paper towels

*Insert an hour going by and then Honey calls me*

“Hey, babe. Got your text.”

I can barely contain myself with glee. “Yeah.”

“And I was a little confused about one of the items so I asked George.”

My glee started to fade. “George?”

“The produce manager. Hang on…”

I hear Honey talking to some guy about…about…??? Nubs! OMG, right?

He gets back on the cell to talk to me. “Yeah, George assured me the nubby cukes are for pickling and not very big. After I showed him your text he helped me find the perfect one only…”

Only? Only I was going to brain Honey when he got home for traumatizing the poor grocery guy. “What?” Yeah, no glee now. Glee was all gone.

“He suggested you might like an English cucumber. The skin is thin and he says his chick digs those.”

His chick??? Digs? You notice how you can jumble those words around – as in take the ‘D’ off of digs and replace the ‘ch’ in chick with it? Unbelievable. Without missing a beat I said, “No thanks. They’re too skinny. I like length and girth, but don’t tell your new buddy that because he might be offended if his woman is into the skinny ones.”

Honey’s voice drops to a very intimate tone. “Riley, Riley, Riley. What am I going to do with?”

I knew what I was going to do with him. I was planning on smacking him over the head with the cucumber once he got it home. The gigantic rat.

“George’s girl is a vegan chef. That’s why she prefers the English version. Easier to cut. What did you have in mind, babe?”

What indeed? Dammit. Foiled again.