It’s a thing we sometimes do. We are on the bed. We are fully clothed. We are stressed or tired or happy or anything ….. and we just start wrassling. I am 5-foot-4 (and a half!). He is 6-foot-3 and a half. Still, we roll and wrassle and we chat, you see. And this will make no sense, mostly, because it’s so entirely random. So why not post it?? Whatevs, peeps …..
Oh, noo. Jeez! You’re freakishly fast. Ooof.
(someone is now sitting on top of someone else)
Remember when you used to love me?
Um, no.
Haha.
Remember when we used to have fun …. long before we ever met each other?
Hahaha.
(wrassling in earnest — some weak-minded cheater occasionally resorts to biting or tickling)
What are you DOING with those freaky monkey feet??
Get offa me with your suffocating hugeness!!
Don’t touch me with those gross Feetos! Seriously! Get away NOW!
(We retire to our corners. Discussion Theme: People are impossible bastards.)
Hey, look, I love you more than all the other impossible bastards in the world.
Oh, nice. So I’m an impossible bastard in this scenario?
But I love you.
Woo. Thanks.
(grab-tussle-block)
I could totally take you. Remember all those times I flipped you?
I remember you grabbed my arm and pulled.
In my mind I flipped you.
Impressive.
Don’t you understand that sometimes I just need to beat you up?
You are history’s worst monster.
I thought it was “history’s worst nightmare.”
NO! We’ve had this discussion. That doesn’t make any sense!
Okay. Sheesh. Calm down, Linus. You are history’s worst nightmare.
(head butts employed)
Later:
Singing a random tune: “My guitar wants to kill your mamaaa ….”
“What is Monkey Tar?”
“Monkey Tar? What’s that??”
“You said ‘Monkey Tar’.”
“No, I said ‘my guitar’.”
“Oh, hmm. I like Monkey Tar better.”
(meadering discussion about “Monkey Tar” and whether one of us is going deaf or stupid)
(Quiz:) Okay. Which of my thumbs has the long scar?
Um, the right one?
No!
Um, the left?
Ha.
Okay. Which of my knees has the scar from when I fell on the stupid carpet and ripped it open when I was 7?
The right.
No, try again.
(someone scurries to hide knees)
THE RIGHT.
NO, try again.
The left?
No. Try again.
It’s the right, you jerk. I knew it.
Are you hungry? I’m hungry.
Me too.
Let’s go.
Yeah, we’re done here.
I love this. You should start the FNWF: Friday Night Wrassling Federation.
No officials, just down and dirty fun.
I like y’all. I really do. You made me smile.
AS – I would SO lose that competition. I’ve ground mine to oblivion. Shoulda started wearing nightguards a loooooong time ago.
//Yeah, we’re done here//
hahahahahahahahahahahaha
This sounds like our house! 🙂 Except for the cursing in Japanese.
I think I accidentally deleted Amanda Sue’s comment. Sorry, AS!