Kittyboy and I got a new charcoal grill for a wedding present. (no, it hasn't happened yet, one more month to go.) Other than the obvious benefits of fire cooked dead thing every so often (yummy), the smokey smell gets into Kittyboy's clothing and hair after he's been slaving over the grill for long enough, and sheeeeeeiiiiiiit. That's not fair, he already smelled fucking delicious to begin with, but now he's all delicious and SMOKEY and I'm all like RRRRRRGGGGHHHUNNNNFFFGETOVERHERE.

Apparently the smoke goes other places too, which I found out the, erm, hard way. I don't think that's quite what they meant by smoked sausage flavor, but I'll take it... >:)

Switchkitty: You know if you want to get laid, like, a lot? just wear that suit all the damn time. Or the gray one. I'm not picky.

Kittyboy: Nah, you know what I do that gets me laid a lot? BREATHE.


....Okay he's right but the suit certainly don't hurt none. Especially when he doesn't bother taking it off before bending me over and spearing my ass.

Welcome home, indeed.