Warning: this might be slightly NSFW. (Grandma, read: inappropriate.)
I can blame my part in these on the Percocet.
I have no such excuses for my mother or for Mark.
Here’s a little glimpse into my world:
The vein on my hand hurts so much from the IV.
You have to rub it out.
That sounds really painful!
Go get some Vaseline or some lotion and rub it until it feels better.
It’s just soooo swollen and hard.
…..This conversation is really perverted. Thank God nobody can hear us right now.
Naturally, I’m putting it on the internet for the world to see. My mother is going to kill me.
I’ll just blame it on the per-per-per-per, per-per-coset.
And then, later, when Mark was leaving the apartment, he gave me a hug. Here’s how the following conversation went:
Mmm, you smell good.
You smell like a man! You’re so grown up!
Well, good. My penis came in the mail today.
This is why I am the way I am.