FedEx Lovin’

I love my FedEx guy. It’s a special kind of love, usually found only between men who have shared some kind of intense, traumatic experience together. Like being in a war, surviving a hijacking or sitting through an entire episode of Temptation Island with your girlfriend asking questions like, “Do you think our relationship would be able to survive this?”

I love him not because he is handsome or because he wears those sexy shorts that women find so alluring, no. I love him simply because he brings me cool stuff that I ordered online the day before. He brings these things right to my door and all I have to do is sign my name and viola! I get stuff.

I love getting stuff.

He should be here any minute with yet another delivery of FedEx lovin’ just for me. I’m all pins and needles with excitement. My nipples are hard. Soon I will have another silly, electronic, Geek toy to play with and the world will shudder in horror as I unleash my joy by either writing an entry about it or by dressing up as Britney Spears and recreating the entire Oops, I Did It Again video sequence.

May god have mercy on your souls…

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