(I’m trying to write an entry and it’s well over 2,200 words at this point.  I really, REALLY need to shorten it but I have to head over to see my brother soon, so it won’t happen until tonight, if I’m lucky.)

In the meantime, have I mentioned I’m going to visit The Man at the end of the month?  I so am!

So, in that vein… In a great and time-honored tradition (aka, I did it one time because Lexi did it), I shall share my text messages from this morning about how he plans for this visit to go.  (I’m green, he’s white.  Only the last four matter, the one above was from last night so I know it’s cut off, but I promise it’s unimportant.)

He’s REALLY fucking awesome, isn’t he?  

Incidentally, the other day he told me to “quit pretending” I don’t like drinking piss. 

No matter how many times I explain that I hate it, loathe it, and want to spit it all over him and never ever ever do it again… And that my deep hatred is the very reason it makes me feel good… He never GETS it.  He seriously seems to think I’m pretending to hate it.  I suppose normal people don’t do things they truly hate in order to feel all owned and worthless and property-like, do they?  And between the two of us, Antonio is light-years closer to normal.  So perhaps that’s why it fails to register with him… 

Or, you know, it just hit me… Maybe he totally understands, and he just likes hearing me talk about how much I dislike drinking his piss.  Huh. Clever.