heaven only knows

Well, My Beloved is visiting his parents this weekend up in the deep dark middle of nowhere. He’s having some much-needed mountain man time with his dad and The Devious Twins. So that’s why the girlie girl is here.

(Although, truthfully …. uhm ….. MB’s aunt, my mil’s older sister, is also visiting from the East Coast … and, well …… I can only take so much, okay? I am not Jesus.)

Now The Devious Twins are identical twin brothers whom MB has known since childhood. One of them — do not ask me which one — was also, along with MB, a member of that primary cause of swooning and naughty thoughts in the minds of high school girls all over town, the The Bitchen Rock Combo. He’s on the far left in the photo with the white blonde hair blending into the background, next to, oh, that superstar of hotness, My Beloved. Although, admittedly, at that time in my life MB was basically Total Stranger I’ve Neither Seen Nor Met Nor Even Know Exists. Funny how things work out, ain’t it?

So The Devious Twins were your basic clowns, your average pranksters, your neighborhood nightmares, and there were TWO OF THEM, exact replicas of one another, so whatever they did involved mayhem multiplied. They are hilarious — do not misunderstand me — but they are dangerous rubes and should not be trusted with human life in any way, shape, or form. Perhaps this weekend they will do something like drink a bunch of beers with MB and then lie down in the middle of Main Street to see if they get run over by any hapless drivers just trying to get the heck outta that loco town. Who knows? And yes, these are grown men, pippa. With wives and children and giant millstones of responsibilities around their necks.

I tell you true: whenever my phone rings this weekend and it’s MB, I will pick it up with at least a half measure of dread, wondering if this is the phone call where he’ll say, “Okay. So one of The Devious Twins was driving his truck on the shore so we could waterski in the canal which — yes, babe, it’s only five feet deep — and, well, he hit a tree — yes, it’s only five feet wide; you know, it’s the canal! — and I was on the skis being pulled but I slammed into the shore when he hit that tree and I can’t move my arms or legs so I think I might be a quadriplegic now, etc.”

And I will sigh with great wifely concern, “Okay. Well, what do you want me to do about it from here?”

To be fair, The Devious Twins did repeatedly ask MB, “Is Tracey coming with you? Are you bringing Tracey?” You know, which is nice. So they were at least willing to have a girlie girl interrupt their mountain man shenanigans. Plus, I get along well with the menfolk. I LIKE men. I even like men like The Devious Twins. No. I especially like men like The Devious Twins. Even when one of them — again, do not ask me which one — a little tipsy last Christmas, regaled me with a half-hour epic tale of his long-ago horrifying penis injury. It was told with great glee and graphic descriptions. What is it about me that causes this to happen?? I have no idea, truly. But it was hilarious. (I love being the only sober person at a party.) From the first word out of his mouth, I was howling with laughter. The next day, this same Devious Twin called MB, all remorseful and said, “Hey, dude. I’m sorry. I think I talked to Tracey about my penis last night.” Hahahaha. Yes, you did. And, God help me, I found it oddly charming. I mean, I wouldn’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable on my account, you know?

So heaven only knows what might happen this weekend with The Devious Twins in the deep dark middle of nowhere.

And heaven only knows what stupid thing I’ll end up doing out of sheer boredom around here.

Uhm, live-blog of “Frogs” anyone?