"... Apparently it was all a lie. An elegant fiction designed to fcuk with my head. Or it was some kind of psychological attempt to kill the optimism in my heart...."
C Anne Ford
I got bit by a tick. Nasty little tick. Bit me on my butt.
That's not the point.
I don't know if I trust a man who tells his significant other to go to a complete stranger to get medical care on the same day that he's going to his own doctor. It doesn't seem right. You'd think that if you are claiming to love the person, you'd tell them to come see your doctor. It's not like asking a guy to go see a gynecologist.
No, it's like NOT asking someone to go see your doctor. It is, instead, asking them to go see a strange doctor at the free clinic on the exact same day and hour that you're going to see your private doctor.
My guess is that the guy's got a thing for one of the staff and he doesn't want them to know that he's married.
Or he's going to get tested for VD.
I'm hoping for the second option or both if it's actually the first one. Nothing says revenge for roving like a burning pee pee. :D
Whhheeeeeeee. (tee hee)
Which reminds me.
Could it possibly be time to think about the ultimate Venereal Disease, Valentine's Day?
This year I have the best Valentine's Day Hurricane Hole.
A real one.
I can wine and dine my own self.
Gonna grill steak and drink tea.