It's Monday, so We're Just Gonna Phone This One In

Monday's are always rough days. You'd think we'd be all refreshed, rejuvenated, recharged by the previous weekend, but no, we're not. You'd also think that we'd have all that free time to come up with totally awesome things to blog about, but that would be another "negative".

So because we don't use our free time wisely, and because we're habitually lazy, you good people suffer.

Today as Grey drove home for lunch thru massive amounts of highway construction at a slower-than-a-snail's pace, she let her mind wander into Twi-La-La Land, a magical place where Edward and Jacob (and sometimes Bella) exist right alongside our own world. She was moving at about -5 miles an hour, and her Mickey D's was getting cold. Only Edward could save her from soggy french fries:

Make Believe Situation in Grey's Head, brought to you by the Alabama State Road and Bridge Department's Everlasting Construction on US Hwy 431:

It's a cold, cloudy day in Headland, Alabama. The perfect day for Edward and I to be out in public together. It's so freaking sunny here we hardly get the chance. It would be the perfect day....if only we weren't stuck in my non-Volvo in construction traffic.

Grey: Oh my gah, this is ridiculous. I only have like 45 minutes to eat lunch. My McDonald's Six-Piece Chicken Nugget Value Meal is going to be cold by the time we get to my house. Which I could hit with a rock from here. Which is totally an analogy as to how close we are to my house versus how long it will take to get to said close house because WE'RE. NOT. MOVING.

Edward: I understand analogies, my love. But you couldn't hit your house with a rock from here. You have weak, ineffectual arms.

Grey: Why are you so freaking calm? And why are you quoting Grey's Anatomy? Do you think that's funny b/c my name is GREY? And it's "fists" by the way, "weak, inneffectual fists." Anyway, we are moving like NEGATIVE 5 MILES PER HOUR. Edward, we are going so slow we are literally going back in time. I will be a high schooler again soon, which will be great because then I won't feel so creepy about a 25-year-old dating a 17-year-old.

Edward: Grey, I'm 109. So a) it's not creepy, and b) I'm used to things moving slowly. It's part of that eternal existance thing.

Grey: Well, maybe I shouldn't be dating such an old man. It's gross.

Edward: Stop quoting movie lines. The only person who thinks it's funny is the person doing the quoting. And if I can't quote Grey's Anatomy, you can't quote that stupid vampire movie.

As I pout, Edward looks over at me, with that adoring gaze that I would normally find annoying if he were a normal, mortal man. But since he's Edward Freaking Cullen, I like it. Then he gets that mischevious look that I normally associate with something else entirely, and rolls down the driver's side window. He flings his arm up towards the roof of the car and then--BAM!--he's gunning the engine and speeding out into the median, bypassing all the traffic. I turn from staring flabergasted at him to look out the windshield, only to be face-to-face with a giant dump truck full of gravel, only to be just as suddenly not face-to-face with the gravel truck, because we are now weaving in and out of the lanes, around non-moving cars, past that stupid grinder machine that always spits rocks at my car, leaving behind in our dust--ironically enough--the street sweeper that always kicks up dirt and mucks up my car when I'm helplessly stuck in traffic.

Then we're in a turn lane, zooming thru my subdivision, and pulling up in front of my house. All this has taken what seems like seconds. My Mickey D's McNuggets are saved. I turn to offer Edward a grateful hug when I hear a *thud* on the roof of my house, with a few *knocks* and *pings* as a quarter-sized rock rolls off the house and into the driveway.

Grey: Is that....?

Edward: ....a rock? Yes. Turns out you were right. You could hit your house from there.

Sometimes I could just kill him...again.

So, what do you guys wish that you could do with Edward? Other than have sex with him, of course. We don't think we would like to have vampire/human sex with Edward, because he's cold and the last thing we like is cold hands or feet in bed. Super mood killer. But we never said anything about Rob Pattinson. Do you want Edward to get you thru traffic faster, too? Or how about taking him to school with you so that you can know all the answers for the test? Would you want him to clean the bathroom drain, cause all that yucky hair is gross? What would you want Edward to do for you?

Again, for you.......not to you.

*Note: This story is completely fabricated. Because obviously, McDonald's french fries don't get soggy. There are enough preservatives in those bad boys to keep them stiff for WEEKS. They are the Viagra of Fast Food Fries.