Baby and I sit back-to-back at the Butch-Femme.com World Headquarters (also known as the crooked ass sun room in the back of our Love Shack). Poor ol’ Miz Chris… every time she looks up, there I am. I didn’t have any sisters to throw rubber snakes at, so Christine is it. It is especially bad for her when I am a good mood cuz then the devil gets in me. Hee hee.
My brat done spied these rhinestone dangly high heels, m’kay. How SHINY they are! She put the catalog on my desk and slapped down a hot pink sticky note that said “HINT”. So later on while she was tinkling her keyboard behind me, I ruffled through the catalog real loud. I picked up my cell phone and started beeping some random numbers n’ shit. I sez, “Hellooo. Mmm. Hmmm. This is Santa and I need to order some shoes.” (Christine stopped typing to listen.) “Lesseeee here, page 4… gimme those biggo flats with the snowmen on em. No. Wait. We’ll go with the reindeers.”
Ohhh… you know how she do. At the mention of reindeer, she rolled that chair around and tried to bop a sweet Daddy right upside the head! “Bumpy, I already been making my list and checking it twice, so there ain’t no need for all that VIOLENCE up in here.”
I ordered the shoes, of course, but her birthday is on Sunday and some *spankin* is gonna be ON. Plus, I got surprises she don’t know nuffin about!!!!
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