I’ve just realized: where are my manners, I haven’t even asked if Smirketh got some in her date last night. But she did reveal, however, that they now have a TOE. I’m sure you’re thinking: toe, sexual activity, toe fetish, but that is not it at all. Synchronicitically, I’ve just been listening to the song Terms of Endearments by Sarah McLachlan from the fun album Mirrorball a few seconds ago, because that is exactly what TOE means–Terms of Endearment. I snorted Voltage with bits of espresso from my nose which hit Smirketh’s eyeglasses upon learning what TOE means, which, of course, was followed by:

Me: What’s your TOE? What’s your TOE? What’s your TOE damn it!

Smirketh just hemmed and hawed and flicked her eyelashes and threw back her hair and I had to remind her I am not Delectable Dude with Delicious Derriere, now stop acting like this is a residual of your date and tell me what the fuck your TOE is!
And then, as the bits of Voltage shot up my brain, I just said quietly:

Me: You know what, don’t tell me. Don’t tell me what your TOE is. Even if I beg for it and twist some of your organs and threaten to give you enema with five liters of soap suds, DO NOT tell me what your TOE is. Don’t. DON’T!!!

Because kids, there are some things you can’t unhear.

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