So anyway, on Saturday Paul had to go to his Dumb Fraternity Boys Sit Around And Congratulate Each Other On Being Totally Awesome Night (aka Alumni Dinner @ McCormick & Schmick's). Of course, the dinner went long and by the time he called me at 11:30 p.m. I was in full on pout mode because even the cat had ditched me and spent the evening in the living room watching tv with my roommate. Then on the way home he started having major stomach cramps and by the time he was back in the apartment he was making funny faces and holding his stomach as he got out of his suit. I thought it was pretty amusing that despite his obvious need to poo ASAP he still took the time to make sure his pants were folded at the crease and hung up, he even took the time to take off his socks before dashing into the bathroom. Talk about OCD huh? My baby's a neat freak, even in the midst of bad case of diarrhea. If that had been me I would have thrown my suit on the ground despite the coat of cat hair that would have grown over it in three seconds and socks be damned, I would have been on that toilet within 2 seconds of entering the apartment.

I told him he was being punished for eating lobster without me so he probably thinks I was stabbing a voodoo doll of him in the tummy or something. But I swear it wasn't me! I woke up sometime in the middle of the night and vaguely remember seeing him sitting on the toilet and some funky noises coming out of him. When he saw that I had been awakened by the sound of his farts he quickly closed the bathroom door and I drifted back off wondering if the whole thing had been a dream.

Okay, so that probably wasn't very entertaining but at least now you know what my Saturday night was like. That's something right ><