Tag Archives: stuffed animals

A boy and his platypus.

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There is a platypus on our spare bed.

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If you’re wondering why, I have one word. Hysterectomy.

And the two word reasons for these?

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Renal arteriogram and uterine artery embolization.

Okay… that’s actually five, but you get the idea. Every time I go into the hospital my husband buys me a stuffed animal for company.

They’ve been on our beds for years but it’s only recently that Lord Dudley Mountcatten has decided the platypus makes a good snuggle buddy.

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Most afternoons you’ll find him here, napping with his new friend.

At times it’s hard to tell where he ends and the platypus begins.

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But whatever you do, don’t disturb his slumber.

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There will be Hell to pay.

😉

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It’s that time of the month again….

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Good grief, no. Not that.

I’m talking about this time of the month:

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The oh shit, hasn’t that gift subscription expired yet time of the month.

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And as usual, the articles are of the highest journalistic integrity.

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Doesn’t seem like such a glamorous job now does it.

The latest trend in eye makeup is now on my things I never need to try because they’re stupid list.

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And because it’s apparently mandatory in every issue..

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Sex.

And while I’m decidedly pro sex, I think these helpful hints leave a lot to be desired.

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I can pretty much guarantee I want to wank your knob are six words that will never be uttered in our bedroom.

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No.

Mr. Cuddles will never be put in a compromising position. Especially that one.

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That’s just wrong.

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