Right now, I’m in an intense game of Words With Friends with my husband.
You know that game, right? Words With Friends?
Or, as I like to call it, THE VERY BAIN OF MY EXISTENCE.
Right now, this same husband is whooping my tail in Words With Friends.
Whooping my tail so badly, I’m THISCLOSE to getting kicked off a plane.
I’M NOT EVEN ON A PLANE!
Whooping my tail so badly, I’m making up crap…
YES IT IS, DICTIONARY, SHUTTUP AND GIVE ME MY TRIPLE LETTER!
I don’t see how anyone is supposed to remain FRIENDS after playing these STUPID GAMES.
PS. As a concession to WHOOPING MY TAIL (not sure if I mentioned that), B.Fam said I could reveal his real name in the screenshot. Just this once. It’s called MARRIAGE, people.
PPS. This is how people die.
PPPS. As a concession to the concession, this same husband asked that, in lieu of using his real name, I change his nickname from “B.Fam” to “Cat Daddy Wonderful.”
PPPPS. I can’t make this stuff up.