Someone slipped me Backwards Sausage (to be known henceforth has egasuas) this morning.

Normally when I have sausage, things are super. The sun is out, birds are singing, bees are trying to have sex with them (as is my understanding) – everything is as it should be to a level of satisfaction that generally only comes from ground meat and a great deal of salt.

Tuesdays are generally a cluster fuck around these parts, so I made a preemptive strike against woe in the form of a sausage patty. This is where the evil egasuas comes in – it wasn’t until AFTER I had eaten my salty breakfast treat that the world started to implode a little. There is stress. Post-sausage stress. That is unheard of, and frankly, I do not approve.

North Vancouver smelled really, really bad this morning. It was incredibly acrid and not at all pleasant. It smelled sort of like a mutant strain of fertilizer cooked up in a lab by some mad scientists bent on creating a race of super soldiers ostensibly to protect us from terrorists but in reality are programmed to wreak havoc and destruction against the weak and pathetic worms of humankind.

Um, not that I would know, or anything.

So hey, I completely urge you to check out this website. Click on a book, and do the preview – it is fucking hilarious. I am so tempted to buy one of these, except for $40 I am pretty sure I could write my own trashy romance that would be a lot filthier and with more tongues in cheek. Still, it is highly amusing:

Kimli didn’t respond with words, but met his lips with her own and kissed Ed until both were dizzy with longing. Unable to deny their desire any longer, in moments they were naked beneath the blanket. Kimli leaned forward until she was a breath away and whispered lustfully, “Gentleman, start your engine.”

Oh, the lols!