I’ve been slacking in the Half-Nekkid Thursday department but this week’s theme is “Your Favorite of 2010″. Since this doesn’t require dragging out the camera, just regurgitation, I can do it!

This…

Taken by the fantasical Bekah. This was back in the spring when I met her at the beach. I hate the beach in general. Sand in my asscrack and cooch? No thanks. Sweating? Nah, you can keep that shit. I live less than 30 minutes from the beach and never go but decided to drive 7ish hours to meet her at one. And guess what? It rained all weekend. And? I drank a dozen Irish Carbombs, gave drunken advice and puked in public. Then we took photos later! (Looking back, one should never drink a dozen of anything. Lesson learned.)

This is really me. Slightly cross-eyed due to the extreme tired with bags under my eyes and bedhead.

I like this photo because I can look at it and remember exactly how tired I was and how glad I was to visit with Bekah even though she ate a bit of something bad while we were at dinner and had to vomit continually while taking photos. I don’t know why, but I laugh when people are puking. She was hurling her guts out and I was chewing on a pillow to try and muffle the laughter. (That doesn’t mean that I don’t love you!)

I look at this and remember where I was in life at the time and where she was and am so happy that we are where we are now.

And I like this one because my tits look nice. Sure, I have to lie flat on my back and corral those bitches with my hands – but they look okay. I’m shallow. Sue me. Bekah took that one too when she was visiting in December last year. FYI: The only nekkidness you’ll ever see me in from now on will be done by her. (Probably.) Because she takes kickass photos and it’s too hard to do by myself.

I also want to throw in my favorite post of 2010. There are some things that I can read over and over again and laugh my ass off.

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She told me to crawl sexily across the bed. All “come hither” like.

But I couldn’t quit laughing.

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You should stop here if you don’t want to read about something yucky.

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Okay, I warned you.

I had to go to the damned doctor today. Something suspicious had taken residence near my coochie. And that shit hurt like hell. It resembled the testicle of a well hung cat. I’d been boiling soaking in hot salt baths for the past couple of days for hours at a time after I got home from work with the hopes that this shit would go away.

By the way – do you know how boring it is to sit in the tub for a good 3 hours? Especially if your entertainment generally consists of playing on your cell phone and you sure as hell don’t want to accidentally drop it in the tub? Or you’re afraid of dropping your book in the water? You just set your playthings on a shelf near the tub and look at them longingly while you cook in the tub.

Of course after I made an appointment to see my doctor today – it exploded last night in my sleep. I went to the doctor anyway. Sweety went with me. Just in case the doctor had to do something that hurt so bad I didn’t want to drive afterwards.

The doctor looked at it, took a “sample” to be tested and said it was either A) motherfucking herpes, B) A boil or C) A place I’d nicked myself shaving that got infected. He was really on the herpes bandwagon. I guess he likes to prepare you for the worst-case scenario. I flat told him I hadn’t seen a dick other than Sweety’s in 9 years, that I examined Sweety’s weenie very thoroughly on a regular basis and that I’d never seen anything odd on it and then started asking questions about how long it can take for herpes to incubate.

My mind had started to whirl…all these late nights working? All the bowling trips that I didn’t go on…maybe this man of mine really didn’t believe that I was batshit crazy and would fuck his shit up if he gave some other coochie a poke. You should have seen the look on Sweety’s face when I cornered him in the elevator and asked him if there was anything that he needed to tell me.

I’m pretty sure it’s an odd, random infection. I’ll know for sure Monday. If it is herpes…well, you will all hear about it on the news. It’ll be the story about the crazy bitch who gnawed her husband’s penis off and fed it to her Dachshund.

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Starting today I am going to be in a better mood. I have nothing to complain about. I have a great life. I know I’ve been really dragging Sweety down the past week or so. As I told him last night, I’m not sad for me, I’m sad in general and I’m going to stop. So, there.

Last night I found my new drink. Woodchuck Draft Cider, the Granny Smith kind. I’m not a big beer drinker because I’m not a fan of the flavor. Usually, I slam shots until the bottle is empty. But this stuff? It’s good! Not carbonated! I’ve never had cider before. I had all 6 last night and got to feeling pretty good but not so good that I felt like shit this morning. I was even able to tidy the house last night before going to bed so we didn’t wake up to the place looking like it had been used for a frat party and I didn’t have any strange markings or bruises on my body when checking today.

The photo was, of course, taken by the fantabulous Bekah. Back in the spring. The same week that BP fucked up the ocean.

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