BlogHer Tuition winner #2-Kelly

By Mocha Momma (doing a really good job of pretending to be me)

Confession Monday Can Suck It

It's not that I don't have plenty of confessions for you people.
Really, I do. I love telling on myself. You all are like my cheap therapy and I
could fucking use the tax break, you know? And this isn't a confession in the
normal sense of the word because sex has made appearances here before.
So has speaking about my vagina.

Not in photographs, mind you.

But I'm as much a liberal feminist as the next woman and let me tell
you, I'm all good with saying that men think with their wankers as long as
we confess that women do the same with their whoo-has. This weekend, mine
was talking all weekend long.

I'm betting you remember the Madonna Whore post because I'm still
getting email on that.

Hold on. There's an interrelated story here. Mahir, who recently was
joked about on Dooce, has also written me about that "S to the E to the X"
post and No, you may not have my sexual picture, either. That's for the eyes
of the Kaiser only.

Back to my sort of confession.

Maybe it was the chocolate. Maybe it was the Peeps. Maybe it was the
sugar-induced coma I fell into late in the afternoon that gave me a
second wind, but when Princess Peanut and Count Waffles were asleep I had hit
this high reminiscent of my days of yore.

What? Your days of yore aren't like that? Liars.

The Kaiser was just kicking back minding his own business. Poor guy.
When I woke up from my stupor it was hard to see because I hadn't yet put my
glasses on my face so I thought there was leftover Peeps on his mouth.
Squinting, I concentrated hard on his adorable face that quickly went
from adorable to sexy.  I really was just trying to get the rest of it off
and he took it for something else. I thought he was going to lose his shit for
my attacking him this late on a Sunday night.

The Queen has found a new appreciation for those Peeps.

So I have to take back being snarky to the Kaiser about the bird poop
incident. I'm going to go with the thought that getting shit on by a
bird really is good luck.

Look what those birdie Peeps did for me.