Anon; The Infatuation of an Amorous Anon

I saw a person once that made me weak in the knees. A baseball bat was involved, and the rest is history. I will add, however, that the blow was something from where there is no recovering, and I have been weak in the knees ever since. This very same person is he who pinned butterflies to my stomach and taped fireworks to my head. Needless to say, I have never been more in love.

I was told by more than one persons at more than one variant times that I would have the privilege of washing dishes and rearing children for the rest of my life. Everything was going perfectly well during the first few months; I would clean all day while my husband worked, have dinner ready for his return and greet him with a smile as he gave me a welcomed and anticipated smack in the face. Something went awry, however, as that had stopped and I was forced to go out and work while he stayed home to clean and make dinner and greet me with a smile as I gave him a welcomed and anticipated smack in the face.

I went hunting for Feministic Flappers from Friendship, New York, because I missed the old days of underappreciated housework, "falling down the stairs," and keeping the phrase "Seen and Not Heard" in mind at all times.

I was surprised when those Annoying Activists arriving from Alabama retaliated with Boston-style Tea Parties. Instead of declining their invitation, I attended the fiasco only to find that they were using coffee instead. As the story went, they hadn't had tea in Boston for over two centuries. Luckily, I was able to convince them to convert to chai, and the Bostonial parties came to an end.

I brought my husband-turned-wife to a lovely vacation spot when the Damned Damsels' Demolition of Tradition Act escapade had made its mark and was delivered. We set up a tent in Tiananman Square and would have slept pleasantly well should the noise level have been any louder. When we emerged from our tent the next morning, we were disappointed to find a multitude of college students studying quietly around us. So, to heat things up to our liking, we ordered a tank from Rent_A_Massacre.com so as to run those pesky peaceful Pacifists over. Next year, I think I'll take my dear to Chernobyl.

Gloomy was the day when wedding bells had tolled. Against our hopes, the weather was cooperative; there were no clouds in the sky, the sun was shining, and there was nothing by way of the wind but for a light, flower-smelling breeze.

When we were attempting to attach the old bell to my wedding dress, it cracked. It was then that my bride's slave decided to tell me that it was a miniature replica of the Liberty Bell (which does not say much for our liberty). When I had finally walked down the isle, my mother yelled about something blue.

"It's fine, mother," I had answered as I passed her by. "I stepped in something green on my way to this point."

And thus began my marriage.