Smut before breakfast - with update!

OK, time to talk about what I do at work. I'm a medical writer. It's interesting, and it helps all mankind, and I get paid pretty well for it. I'm proud to to what I do.

When I do it.

However, there are times when I get caught up doing "something else," like e-mailing people or exchanging IMs or taking personal calls or wandering around looking for someone to play with, which really eats into the ol' WORK time.

For example, here is an excerpt of an exchange between the lovely and powerful Wordnerd and your humble correspondant from yesterday, in which topics were changing pretty fast and furious. It has been edited to protect the identities of those those might be recognizeable, and I took out all the parts in which we prattled about children and husbands and periods and which boys is the cutest. It's better that way, trust me.

And is WAY better than really doing work.

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Tiff: Tell me about the blogrings!!!

Wordnerd: They're kinda cool. I kinda tend to stay in my own little solar system, so adding some blogrings has been great. People come visit me because they are determined to, say, read one blog per day from Southern Blogs till the list is complete.

Tiff: Ooooh, color me intrigued. I've got a jones for a metric assload of readers.

Wordnerd: What kinda bling you lookin' for?

A pause of about 5 minutes gets put here while Tiff does actual work......

Tiff: Oops - sorry, got waylaid by somebody wanting something, which interrupted my very important IMing with my buddy wordnerd. Stupid coworkers.

Tiff: Is there a blogring for people who think they're funny but really aren't and then get all depressed when they read othere people's stuff that IS funny and so go wandering off the deep end into a grand funk of "I hate myself"ism?

Wordnerd: Not that I'm aware of, but I'm thinking we could start our own ring!!!!

Tiff: ahahahaaa!!!!!

Wordnerd: "Wallowing in Self-Pity" blogring...come & get it!

Tiff: "more morose than YOU" blogring.

Wordnerd: "You Think YOU Got Shit?" blogring?

Tiff: How about "Ain't that some shit" blogring.

Wordnerd: I'm trying to remember the name of the site that has lists and lists and lists of blogrings

Tiff: I see ringsurf on your site.

Wordnerd: Hell yeah!

Tiff: that's it? I got it right? I SO rock.

Wordnerd: Yep

Tiff: Brilliant.

Tiff: I'm looking at the blogrolling site now, and am tempted to give it a go.

Tiff: WTF - I use "brilliant" and "give it a go"? What am I, British?

Wordnerd: Someone signed me up for that, sent me an invitation, rather, and I joined, then promptly forgot my login info. So I'm on the list but I can't get in! What a dork.

Wordnerd: I think it was for blogrolling.com

Tiff: see, that's a post right there.

Wordnerd: Yes, yes it is. Will jot down my notes momentarily. Hee hee!

Wordnerd: Know what my problem is? I have these great posts in my head. And I'm working fast and furious when I'm in the car or somewhere that I can't write. Then I get to a point where I can write, and something happens, and I shut down. Hmmm...there's yet another post.

Tiff: I wonder if a recording device of some sort would help you.

Tiff: you know, to cut down on distraction.

Wordnerd: That's another post right there!

Tiff: you're on a roll. go write them down! waste no time!

Wordnerd: It's for the good of the earth.

Tiff: absolutely.

Tiff: Maybe I'll join a smut ring and start writing filth for fun.......

Tiff: beats the heck out of working.

Wordnerd: There ya go

Tiff: I was thinking the other day "is there such a thing as Christian smut?" I wonder. I don't know why I thought that. What would the guidelines be?

Wordnerd: Hmmm. Now that's one to think on.

Wordnerd: Just type a regular smut post, but infuse the end of each paragraph with a liberal dose of guilt.

Tiff: hahaha!!! I love that take on it!

Wordnerd: Imagine the possibilities.

Tiff: the mind boggles. is there such a thing as "unchristian" bedroom activity?

Wordnerd: Yep. Read above.

Tiff: but wait, eveything would have to be done missionary style. with no french kissing.

Wordnerd: On the bed.

Wordnerd: Under the covers.

Tiff: this doesn't seem like such a great idea anymore.

At the same time - Wordnerd: Lights off./Tiff: with the lights out, and onlythe necessary parts unclothed

Tiff: oops! you were thinking what I was thinking!!

Wordnerd: Does yelling "Oh my God" make it Christian?

Tiff: Yes, as does "sweet jesus", "oh lord", and "who's your daddy."

Wordnerd: I want you to know I am laughing MY ASS off in here right now. My co-workers think I'm tripping.

Tiff: let them.. their lives are empty shells compared with your rich and vibrant existence.

At the same time - Tiff: I am posting this exhange if you're not going to./Wordnerd: You know, YOU could take THIS conversation and make a quite lovely post.

Wordnerd: I cannot believe we were thinking the same thing at the same time.

Tiff: cut that OUT!!!

Wordnerd: Yes. I can. Never mind.

Wordnerd: Have at it, and make me proud!

Tiff: are you SURE you don't want to lay claim to it????

Wordnerd: Nope. All yours.

Wordnerd: It's funny as hell, acshully...

Tiff: Allrightie then.

Wordnerd: You leaving your name in?

Tiff: I'm leaving mine, otherwise how would I know it ever happened?

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Tales of the rest of my weekend later today; including "that" breakfast.

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UPDATE: (warning - includes talk of mouths and orgasms, though it's not what you might think)

The table was set beautifully, with china mugs and plates, a pewter charger of fresh fruit and granola at each setting. The cup of orange juice sparkled, the coffee was just right and enthusiastically refilled by Mr Hostess, and the meal accompanied by the presence of 3 wonderful friends.

Chatting and noshing, we polished off the first course in short order (because, apparently, talking for 11 hours straight is hungry work), and were thereupon presented with the second. A lovely mound of "something" sat under a heavy dusting of confectioner's sugar, topped with a fresh strawberry. The mystery food wafted odors sweet and luscious, and the first forkful was a blast of everything good in this world that can fit on a plate.

My God. It was some kind of warm doughy thing with sweet stuff in the middle that was seeping out from the cut edges, with some sort of crispy outer crust that was subtly redolent of nutmeg and butter. It hit the pleasure senses with a "bang" and kept on firing with every mouthful.

If anyone ever tells me that there's something better in this world (to eat) than a croissant that is sliced in half, then filled with cream cheese and fresh strawberries, put back together, dipped in beaten egg that's been suffused with nutmeg and rum, then FRIED AND COATED WITH POWERED SUGAR, I will tell them that they are a liar, because there is not, nor will there ever be. My mouth sent signals to my brain of sensual happiness, of physical pleasure, and my tablemates felt it too. Whoever thought up that dish needs some commendation for pleasing 4 women at once.

And even though it was not the last course, it should have been, because the eggs and bacon that were offered up afterward did not meet spec on the orgasmatasticness of the stuffed fried croissant. Probably because eggs and bacon are marginally GOOD for you, and the croissant was just hedonism on a pewter plate.

After brefess was over, one of our number went home. The remaining three therafter called her "The Quitter" and mocked her sense of style. We brave few that were left made a plan, somewhat rashly, to travel to Williamsburg to get a heapin' helpin' of history. We hopped in the hoopties and beat feet down the road, eager to fill our heads with all things olde and ye.

Much to my surprise, historic Wiliamsburg looks a heck of a lot like an outlet mall.

I know! It floored me too! Who know that Ann Taylor was there way back then? Or LL Bean? Amazing. After soaking up the "history" for several hours (history attching it self to us in the form of new shoes and sunglasses and shirts), we stopped at Ye Olde McDonald's for a late lunch and all hit the road in our various directions to be home in time for supper.

Thus endeth the tale of my weekend with the girls. Lagomorphs and Hundreds, history and cute shoes, all in 27 hours.

Way to rock, Dinglediners!