My ex.

The one I blogged about a few days ago, between Saturn and the vibrators.

He’s coming to stay for a while and get his shit together.

Weird? Nah. I’m friends with most of my exes, mostly because of the sheer volume of people involved with the label of “Melia’s ex.” Ok, maybe its a little weird.

So, after staying up talking to Freedom last night and really deciding that this was a good idea, I tossed and turned all night trying to think of how I was going to tell The Husband, because this could potentially be what finally pushes him over the edge (muahahahahaha!).

It went a little like this:

Me: So, um, I have a friend coming for a visit.

TH: Who? When? I can’t believe neither of us made coffee.

Me: Yeah, me, too. A friend from college. Tomorrow morning. He needs a place to stay while he gets back on his feet.

TH: Is this one of your exes, like you “slept with” exes?

Me: Dude, they’re ALL my exes.

TH: Even K?

Me: Well, kind of. I mean, well, yeah. Oh, and B, too.

TH: I thought he was gay.

Me: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Me, too. So you guys can hang out and play pool together.

TH: Is he good, will he beat me?

Me: Maybe.

TH: Maybe I don’t want to play with him, then.

I then imagined The Husband hitting the bong, if he actually did things like that. I am the cause of each and every gray hair on that man’s head.

Oh, and I’d like to thank Saturn, again, for yet another blog. Because, really, I no longer write about my kids,  feminism or bisexuality. Its just the bizarre twists and turns that keep right on coming.

Vote for me, I’m fun!