Nutrition-ick, contd.

More from our favorite NW narcissist:

She said:

Tomorrow, Mike and I are going off on a Tangent. This trip is a little tangent to our 'get up and make the coffee and turn on the computer' lives right now. Mike has been having an affair with his new job these past few months, staring intently at his computer screen for hours on end, whispering sweet nothings to his new trophy wife - the gleaming and angular Mac Book Pro with 14" screen. Oh, I occasionally get a wink or a peck on the cheek now and then, but usually it takes the smell of frying sausage from the kitchen to pull him away from his mistress.

We think she should have said:

I don't know what "Tangent" means so I capitalized it. Then I doubted myself so I wrote it again, lower case this time. Mike has been having an affair with someone who he says will finally give him "jobs". Don't know what that means, either. Better capitalize it in case it's important. Jobs. I wonder if I can successfully masturbate with my brother's old soccer trophy?

Nutrition-ick

Our first entry comes from our blog-hating muse, a self-proclaimed 'Hot Nutritionist' from Seattle who thinks she discovered making and drinking coffee, buying organic, and wine. It's important to know that 'Mike' is her whimsical fiance, who we assume is a 'graphic designer' and who wears blouses and medallions. You'll be seeing a lot of these two:

She said:

I realize, as I'm picking, that this is women's work. I'm gathering food as women have for thousands of years. The guys can have their spearsh and they can go chase their wooly mammoths for fun for all I care. But this? This comes naturally to me, and I get the impression that it certainly doesn't to Mike. I must have asked him ten times before if he'd like to go picking, but he always replies in the negative. Of course, when I arrive home, he can't keep his hands from the purple mass of sweetness in my big red plastic picking bowl.

We think she was trying to say:

I told my fiance to keep his wooly spearsh (sic) out of my purple mass of sweetness. He called me a wooly mammoth and raped me in the bowl. This comes naturally to me.