Confused and inappropriately naïve, Jon claimed to not know what I meant.  “But it’s seven AM in the bloody morning on a Saturday!”  to which I replied, “ya, well, nature waits for no man”.  After some whimpering, a lot of mumbled excuses and comments of “but can’t you just go quickly?  I’ll put the kettle on while you’re out!” I yanked the door open in frustration and gave him The Look.

Faced with the awe-inspiring look, he coiled into a little ball and started rocking back and forth.  “Don’t make me do it, Sheen.  I can’t.  I don’t want to.  I won’t!” he frantically whispered through his kneecaps, his eyes pleading and determined to not back down.  I think he must have seen the determination in my face, the absolute desperation of this dire situation when I looked him firmly in the eye, grabbed him by the balls and calmly stated: Get thyself into yon chariot and get. me. some.

To find out what I’m talking about go here to read the full article I wrote, published on Female2female this morning.