Why Tess insists on switching around these damn blogs, I’ll never know. She’s off watching that new Twilight movie and pretending she’s a teenager (lord knows she’s not fooling anybody with that body). Still, it’s nice to have her out of the house. Maybe I’ll even catch up on all the busy work I’ve been neglecting. Or I could just go out and get laid. With any luck I’ll catch something and pass it on to her. Why the hell are we married? Why is god playing such a cruel joke on me. All I can hope is that the happy ending (death or thai massage) comes soon. [Tess, this is where you make some stupid comment about usually coming too soon]

Back to the bottle

- Nick

I dream of using this boat to discard of something in the near future. Just like Dexter.

- Tess

Honesty isn’t something that Nick and I are too familiar with. He lies about going to the gym and I lie about orgasms. He finds ways to pretend he enjoys my cooking, and I find ways to pretend I’m not putting cyanide in his food. It’s generally a very healthy relationship. Except for that time he thought it would be romantic if he fed me his meal. And yes, ‘meal’ is a metaphor. For cyanide.

- Tess