I know what you’re all thinking, that the video evidence of a very drinky night has finally surfaced, and Melia is going to be more than Internet Famous now. You’re over on YouTube typing obscure phrases like, “Melia Lore sucks a mustard bottle,” or “where did Melia put that burrito?”
Why did both of those involve food?
No, I’m here to talk about sex tape. That not-yet-invented (in my head, at least) product that will make your sex life more interesting, even if your sex life consists of you and a battery operated friend, conveniently named (yes) BOB.
Uses for Melia’s Sex Tape:
- Hoist those boobs to new heights!
- Cover up areas that you do not want penetrated.
- Bondage, duh.
- Mildly painful nipple play (note to self: add different adhesive strengths).
- Strap a wallet, batteries, lube, cuffs, feathers or snacks to your body (thanks, Scarly!)
- Cover up tattoos of ex-lover’s names.
- Facial hair smoother.
- Condom replacement (not recommended, really).
- Aerobic present wrapping.
- Keep hair out of your face.
- Clever fanny pack.
The possibilities are endless, really. As the official marketing team for Melia’s Sex Tape, I encourage you all to share your thoughts on sex tape, so I can steal them and make millions.
I’ll even buy you lunch.
It is the summer of my discontent. Its freaking hot, and with a bunch of children to entertain, the heat makes things much more difficult. However, I shall prevail over this weather madness. I survived the Snowpacalypse, I shall survive the burning streets of Northern VA hell. Ouch.
Saturday found us in the depths of this weather, in DC, doing the monuments/museums tour. Freedom had never been into DC, and I’d been saying we were going to go since his arrival, so off we went via the Metro (with Enigma as our Metro guide; Asperger’s has its benefits). No matter how many times I go into DC, I always get a little flutter at being there. I mean, yes, we’re probably the first target in any sort of nuclear attack, and there are politicians, government officials and motorcades to deal with, plus all of the bad thoughts sent this way… but, its DC! Where else can you walk on the grass/dirt between the Capitol building and the largest phallus on the planet?
It was fun. It was hot. We won’t be going back until the leaves change.
What else? The Twitches are learning to swim! Have you ever tried to take four children to a pool, three of which cannot swim? Can I tell you how miserable the past few summers have been as I tried to keep everyone entertained and above water (drowning is not entertainment, I don’t care how hot it is)? GAAH! I thought the life jackets I bought last year were sanity- (and life-) saving, but there is NOTHING like having extra hands.
Three weeks until Emo Boy returns, three weeks until we road trip to Arkansas (barring any life-changing jobs before then) and points beyond (in theory).
New Sarah McLachlan! Whatcha think?
About an hour after the previous blog, Freedom woke up, and the first words he said to me were, “I don’t remember going to sleep.”
We try to piece together the events of the evening. Wine. RHPS. I sang. He sang. We did the Time Warp. The last thing we can remember is making a video of Freedom as Dr. Franknfurter, that sweet transvestite.
He doesn’t know why he was sleeping shirtless.
I silently vow to never drink wine again, grab the camera and rewind… and rewind… and finally, I let it play.
Then, I collapse in a heap of “day after” laughter.
I am the greatest filmmaker ever. The video is a 20 minute still shot of the pillow on my couch accompanied by insane laughter, spanking sounds, Jack Sparrow, and a bunch of random noises and words I still can’t make out. I seem to remember wondering why we were running out of tape during Freedom’s special performance of Sweet Transvestite, especially since there was plenty of tape during the first take. Evidently, turning the camera off was far too techy for me. Total fail.
RHPS is still paused.
I did not sleep shirtless.
There was vomit in my sink.
I’m going to film school.
Notes from last night:
All of my life-changing moments happen when Rocky Horror comes on TV.
OCS Solutions is an awesome hosting company. Check it.
Rocky Horror Picture Show is still fabulous.
Get more tapes for camera.
Freedom dancing to RHPS is even more fabulous than the movie itself.
We’ll see how fabulous he thinks it is in the morning.
I, much like Freedom and Sapphire, cannot believe I don’t actually own RHPS.
Wine. I may drink it more. Or not.
I didn’t vomit, but someone else did. Neener.
The Adventures of Chuck & F#ck have begun.
Notes from this morning:
I don’t remember going to sleep.
There is a wine stain on the carpet.
My couches seem to have been pillaged.
The video camera is laying by the couches.
I’m a little afraid to see what was recorded now.
Wine, even decent wine, gives me a major headache.
This particular section of this blog has a very nice slope.
Image courtesy of laughinglaura.com
V gets into the Swing of Things… wheeeee!
A few laughs from N8V Running. Hell yeah.
Another UnCool Girl lesson from Melia, the Queen of Dorks. Ironic, eh?
Soaking up the Solstice Sun, LadyHawk talks Litha.
Spectacular Me is a big whiny-faced veggie hater.
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