Not Now, Honey . . . I Have a Headache

I'm exhausted. Physically drained.

I took on 12 of them. In one day. Each with his own personality. Each one more beautiful than the next. A 10-hour marathon; back to back. Didn't even take a break in between. OK, that's a lie - I needed food after the first 3 1/2 hours. By the time I was done, I was famished. I downed more bottles of water than I can count. A girl gets thirsty with that kind of activity.

I even, dare I say it, missed seeing the whole Packers/Seahawks game. I insisted on catching updates now and then, between stints. But I gave up Favre for these 12 honeys.

All of them similar, but different in small ways. Some smaller, some bigger. Some dark. Some light. Some were smooth, some a little rougher. Some were quiet, some liked to make a little more noise. All of them fast. Some whispering . . . some purring . . . some with that low rumble. All of them begging me to make them mine. For a price.

Oh yeah, you guessed it . . .

The Wife went luxury car shopping.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife