Tuesday, September 13, 2011


On a less solemn note, we spent the weekend engaged in the most American of activities: killin' and shootin'.

Okay, well, not so much with the killin'. Husband and I went fishing with my Dad, but we just did catch and release. We'd only made it to our fishing hole one other time this summer, so it was nice to spend another day on the pond with my two favorite men in the whole wide world! While Dad and I caught several bluegill and sunfish, Husband couldn't cast and reel fast enough (he even caught a largemouth bass, the only one of the day)! It was only his third time fishing in his entire life, and I swear he could have caught a fish that day without any bait on his hook! I'm contemplating divorce. I just cannot stomach being married to a better fisherman than myself. What would that fall under? Irreconcilable differences?

The following day, we spent the afternoon with one of our favorite couple friends at a gun range in The Big City. It was the same gun range that I'd taken half of the favorite couple for her bachelorette party several months ago. Husband brought his 9mm, which I tried for the first time. I also had the opportunity to shoot some stranger's gun when he randomly handed it to me. I think it was because I was wearing an unfortunately low-cut shirt, and hot bullet casings kept flying down my cleavage. The little dance I had to do to get the hot metal away from my delicate lady bits must have been quite enticing. I'll be honest, I felt a little strange handling another man's piece, and I wasn't sure how long I should touch it, but I held it steady and emptied the cartridge.

Have I been sufficiently innuendous? (No, I don't think "innuendous" is a word, but it should be.)

Could that perhaps be Husband's reason for divorce? Irretrievable breakdown?

Oh, dear.

God bless 'MERICA.

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