wrassling

We wrassle a lot around here. I don’t know why. Pent-up hostility? Rage-aholism? Who knows? Given our size difference, though, the whole dealio is probably a bad idea. Ah, well. Some people give flowers. Some people give chocolates. Some people have candlelight dinners. Suckas — a good wrasslin’ is a lot less expensive.

Although, sometimes things do go a bit south.

Right now, all I’m gonna say is that someone in this house attacked someone else in the house who was lying half-asleep on the couch. Moments later, someone knocked someone else onto the floor — a truly terrifying 16-inch freefall. At this point I feel I must tell you that someone’s neck was almost cricked and someone’s body was almost bruised and there are now chalk lines dividing the house in half and restraining orders in place for some poor someone’s protection.

If someone is found cold and blue at the foot of the ottoman someday, someone else done it.

Is all I’m saying.