But do they eat pudding?

I'm sick.

I got sent home from work like a naughty little school girl.

Lame.

So what do I do when I'm sick and can't sleep?

I watch movies.

Well, ok, if I had the energy I'd probably masturbate to porn.....but I'm zonked, so I am watching "regular" movies.

Anyways.

I decided to go buy a couple new DVDs on my way home from the doctor because I have been banned from the office until Wednesday.

Again, I say LAME. I hate staying home. *pout*

One of the movies I bought today was "Brokeback Mountain". Why did I buy it? Several reasons.

Number 1. The Freak wouldn't see it in the theater with me.
Number 2. Because I suck at rental late fees.
Number 3. Because I keep hearing how good it is.
Number 4. Because I just wanted it.

So I dope up on my codeine cough syrup (yeeeeeehaw), snuggle in to the covers, and text the freak.

"Juuuuuuuuuuuuice!!!!!! *pitiful sigh*"

I wait....perhaps two or three minutes......and I text The Freak again.

"JUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUICE!!!!!!!!!!!! *cough*".

And like magic, POOF! There he is, juice in hand, shaking his head at me like I've lost my mind.

I heart him.

He realizes I am about to watch my gay cowboy movie and scurries off muttering something about clinching his ass.

I sip my juice. Ouch. Kinda burns. I feel woozy. Mmmmmmm.........cough syrrrrrrrrrrup.

I click play.

And there they are......Heath and Jake......pretending to have accents.....and riding and roping and.....wow. That's a lot of damn sheep.

I text The Freak.

Me: "Not liking this movie. Bored."

Him: "You don't like Brokenbutt Mountain???"

Me: "LOL. No I don't. The accents are driving me nuts, and I keep giggling because I keep thinking about movies featuring gay cowboys eating pudding."

(For those unenlightened, that is a "South Park" reference.)

Him: "LOLOLOL"

Me: "EEEEEEW! They aren't eating pudding now!!!"

Him: "Huh?"

Me: "Sex scene!!!"

Him: "COME ON! I'm eating!!!!"

I giggle myself in to a coughing fit, decide I need company, and crawl downstairs wearing my satin pjays with the little suns and moons all over them and my buzzy funny.....errr.....I mean fuzzy bunny slippers on.

The front door is open.

The Freak is sitting in the doorway with the dog, talking to The Wee General's four year old daughter, R.

R. sees me with my wild hair and wacky outfit on, and looks frightened. I giggle and tell her I'm sick. The Freak tells her I have germs. She looks at me, very serious look on her face, and vows to pray diligently for my health.

A four year old just vowed to pray diligently for my health.

How much of that cough syrup did I drink?

*hiccup*