"Just for that," I said, recovering my breath from an unprovoked tickle-attack, "you get to sleep in The Wet Spot."
"No problem," replied the Pirate, as he vigorously dried The Wet Spot with a piece of cotton cloth. "Oh, here's your pyjama top."
"You fucking bastard."
6 comments:
frolics of a similar nature at the rancho have recently resulted in an overturned coffee table. we still got it!
Heh. He's good.
FN: two desk chairs and a futon. suck on it.
Hannah: you have no idea.
Another valuable life lesson in Piratiquette.
Oooh tickle attacks. I've fallen out of bed from those. I, of course, am an insatiable minx.
That was so funny it made me snort black coffee out of my nose.
Post a Comment