excitatory postsynaptic potential

So Excitemas is coming and I'm all heaven in the pants feverish because my husband can't keep his mouth shut on what he got me. 

Which means that what he got me is no longer my Christmas present.  Because Excitemas presents are supposed to be a surprise! We wrap them up to keep them a surprise!  It's like I always say, "wrap the shit up and put it under the tree."

(wait a minute. that sounds....weird, if you know what I mean)

yup. like I always say.

So I'm all sweating like a whore in church because me and my excitator are going to see Kathy Griffin!! Front Row Bitches!!

Where my gays at ya'll??!!  I'm so going to work the room before the show, interviewing potential gay boyfriends.  I'VE BEEN GAY BOYFRIEND SINGLE FOR TOO LONG!!

So, merci beaucoup, husband for hearing about the show on the radio and then rushing home and buying tickets and then a mere hour or 2 later hinting around how you really want to tell me what you just bought...AND  since this isn't my Excitemas present, you must have something REALLY SPECIAL in store for yo baby mama.... (please consider this a warning my thank-you note) AND NO, a new set of, say, white square dishes with matching bowls and cups IS NOT really Special!!  Though it would be nice to have...

Let this be a lesson to all my fellow femme fatales on what sort of Excitemas THEY can have if they just go bi, let their  gay boyfriend and/or husband watch, and once in a while go reverse cow-girl.

so magical...

(KIDDING, MOM)

Excitemas is coming!