up conversation I'd just had. I was unaware Trolls and Zombies even existed. "Because you're insane and look like sparkling grapes that got run over by a Mack truck, I'm also having The Kev, Gemma and Venus help out tonight."
"The Afro American Vampyre?" Martha inquired.
I considered telling her for the umpteenth time how offensive that term was but refrained. First of all it wouldn't help. Plus, I was hoping Venus would kick their skinny, boney asses…or at least wash their mouths out with dish soap or lye. Maybe she'd remove their tongues—I wondered how long it would take a tongue to grow back. I'd have to ask Ethan later.
"Yep, that's her," I said and rolled my eyes.
"And the Fairy with his beard?" Jane asked.
"The Kev doesn't have a beard," I said as I picked up Sammy and began the short trek to his nursery.
"Your friend Gemma is his beard. He's as gay as a blade," she informed me.
"Gay as Mr. Brady from The Brady Bunch ," Martha joined in.
"Homosexual as Doogie Howser."
“Faggy as “Benny and the Jets”."
"Or “Rocket Man”."
"Or Johnny Mathis."
"Oh my Uncle God," I shouted. "Shut the hell up or you have to leave. The Kev is not gay and Gemma is not a beard. He could turn you to dust with his eyes shut…so, um, go ahead and tell him what you think," I stuttered.
I was feeling only a little bad that I may get home after having at least fourteen orgasms with Ethan to learn Martha and Jane were no more.
"And what the hell has happened to you two idiots?" I demanded as I put Sammy in his exersaucer and handed him a dog bone to chew on. "You used to be rabid conservative Christians."
"We still are," Jane informed me proudly. "I'd pop Mitch McConnell's cherry so fast it would make your head spin."
I grabbed the side of the excersaucer so I didn't collapse in a fit of hysterics.
"I'm leaving," Ethan mumbled as he hightailed it out of the room. "Don't leave any blood when you kill them."
"Got it," I said.
"We've just become a little less uptight," Jane supplemented the heinous discussion we were having. "I'd do George W. in a heartbeat."
"You don't have a heart," I reminded her. "You’re a Vampyre."
"Yes, well," she agreed. "He's married to Laura and she's a babe with wonderful cantaloupes. So he's safe unless she croaks first."
"I'm getting glasses like Sarah Palin," Martha said.
Should I really leave my child with them? Probably not, but the way they were now cooing over him and making him giggle by tackling each other and making raspberry sounds with their mouths— I hoped —calmed me some.
"You two are not in charge and neither is Sammy. Whatever The Kev, Gemma or Venus says goes. Got it?"
"Yes," they grumbled.
"They'll be here in a minute and then I'm going to get laid. Can you douse fires and deal with wild animals?"
"Piece of cake," Martha bragged. "Just ask the Gnomes."
"Gnomes?" How in the Hell did I not know Gnomes were real?
"Taste like old poop and brussel sprouts," Jane said very seriously.
There was so much wrong with that statement I was speechless. Firstly, why did she know what old poop tasted like?
"What in the Sam Fucking Hill?" Martha screeched as she and Jane dropped to the floor in terror.
I ducked and smiled as a gust of delicious wind engulfed the room.
"Krumecaca," The Kev shouted as he and Gemma and Venus appeared in a blast of silver and pink glitter mist. "I am so excited to babysit my godchild!"
I turned to hug my friends and stopped short. "Really, The Kev? Really?" I was floored. He no longer looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger. Nope, he had now taken on the features of David Hasselhoff. He couldn't use his real body and face. His true beauty was blinding and it was almost impossible to look at him, but the Knight Rider? His taste was, as usual, appalling.
"You like?" he bellowed as he picked up Samuel and tossed a
"The Afro American Vampyre?" Martha inquired.
I considered telling her for the umpteenth time how offensive that term was but refrained. First of all it wouldn't help. Plus, I was hoping Venus would kick their skinny, boney asses…or at least wash their mouths out with dish soap or lye. Maybe she'd remove their tongues—I wondered how long it would take a tongue to grow back. I'd have to ask Ethan later.
"Yep, that's her," I said and rolled my eyes.
"And the Fairy with his beard?" Jane asked.
"The Kev doesn't have a beard," I said as I picked up Sammy and began the short trek to his nursery.
"Your friend Gemma is his beard. He's as gay as a blade," she informed me.
"Gay as Mr. Brady from The Brady Bunch ," Martha joined in.
"Homosexual as Doogie Howser."
“Faggy as “Benny and the Jets”."
"Or “Rocket Man”."
"Or Johnny Mathis."
"Oh my Uncle God," I shouted. "Shut the hell up or you have to leave. The Kev is not gay and Gemma is not a beard. He could turn you to dust with his eyes shut…so, um, go ahead and tell him what you think," I stuttered.
I was feeling only a little bad that I may get home after having at least fourteen orgasms with Ethan to learn Martha and Jane were no more.
"And what the hell has happened to you two idiots?" I demanded as I put Sammy in his exersaucer and handed him a dog bone to chew on. "You used to be rabid conservative Christians."
"We still are," Jane informed me proudly. "I'd pop Mitch McConnell's cherry so fast it would make your head spin."
I grabbed the side of the excersaucer so I didn't collapse in a fit of hysterics.
"I'm leaving," Ethan mumbled as he hightailed it out of the room. "Don't leave any blood when you kill them."
"Got it," I said.
"We've just become a little less uptight," Jane supplemented the heinous discussion we were having. "I'd do George W. in a heartbeat."
"You don't have a heart," I reminded her. "You’re a Vampyre."
"Yes, well," she agreed. "He's married to Laura and she's a babe with wonderful cantaloupes. So he's safe unless she croaks first."
"I'm getting glasses like Sarah Palin," Martha said.
Should I really leave my child with them? Probably not, but the way they were now cooing over him and making him giggle by tackling each other and making raspberry sounds with their mouths— I hoped —calmed me some.
"You two are not in charge and neither is Sammy. Whatever The Kev, Gemma or Venus says goes. Got it?"
"Yes," they grumbled.
"They'll be here in a minute and then I'm going to get laid. Can you douse fires and deal with wild animals?"
"Piece of cake," Martha bragged. "Just ask the Gnomes."
"Gnomes?" How in the Hell did I not know Gnomes were real?
"Taste like old poop and brussel sprouts," Jane said very seriously.
There was so much wrong with that statement I was speechless. Firstly, why did she know what old poop tasted like?
"What in the Sam Fucking Hill?" Martha screeched as she and Jane dropped to the floor in terror.
I ducked and smiled as a gust of delicious wind engulfed the room.
"Krumecaca," The Kev shouted as he and Gemma and Venus appeared in a blast of silver and pink glitter mist. "I am so excited to babysit my godchild!"
I turned to hug my friends and stopped short. "Really, The Kev? Really?" I was floored. He no longer looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger. Nope, he had now taken on the features of David Hasselhoff. He couldn't use his real body and face. His true beauty was blinding and it was almost impossible to look at him, but the Knight Rider? His taste was, as usual, appalling.
"You like?" he bellowed as he picked up Samuel and tossed a
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