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So I'm lying on the couch eating beef stew
So I'm lying on the couch eating beef stew (which I made from scratch today) out of heavy white bowls that my ex bought from Crate & Barrel before she moved out -- and I'm thinking -- this is pretty nice.
I'm proud of this ability that I've developed to rest the bowl on my upper chest, just below my chin, and eat this tasty stew without spilling any. If the ex was still here, she'd be rolling her eyes and sighing and commenting about how I should have gotten more exercise than cleaning out the garage and making stew, and she'd fail to appreciate my deft eating while relaxing abilities.
Next to me is a heavy chilled pint glass of IPA, which I've also learned to drink while reclining on my couch.
It's been a good day in fact, having my house all to myself.
The only thing that would have made it better, is if the Huskies won yesterday.
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Comments
Stew + Beer > Wife
I have a wife who makes the beef stew, lets me watch football all day Saturday without bitching, lets me get away with a pretty low amount of household chores, and provides the occasional 3rd quarter blow job.
And fuck off, no pics. She's my wife, not some random sloot.
A blow job from the just turned 18 year old across the street > Huskie win yesterday
My intent was more innocent and wholesome. I really am proud of my developed skill to be nearly horizontal on my couch and eat stew or drink IPA.
Fuck... now even the phrase eat stew sounds nasty...
At this rate slurpin stew could be the new citrus