totes jelly

This post is for Frash.

Totes jelly. Supes presh. Ohmigosh. Txtng s bring. (translation: totally jealous, super precious, oh my gosh, texting is boring.)(uncultured swine) Wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle. Listening to I'm Sexy and I Know It on the radio, BYU football games with some crazy dude behind us, pie crusts, cheese, Said Ga-lala (is that even right??), loving me like a love song, Benji and crinkles, Josh and crushes, "MISSIONARIES." "WHERE?!?!?!" "RIGHT THERE BEHIND US RETARD." "oh." Planking. Chalking. Tunnel singing. Penny tapping. Creeping. Driving. Honking. Flat irons and Katy Perry. Chit chat. JP. Jumping socks, or bones. Either or. Dark Waltz. Heart of Gold. Dirty Jobs. Sticking our hands in a cow's esophagus. Making fireworks. Illegal. Cookies. Talk writing. Good Samaritan. Planning our married lives; like what our kitchen will look like (hers is to be turquoise and mine will be pastel yellow and red) and what clothes our kids are going to wear (sports affiliated: hers will wear ASU gear and mine will wear my alma mater) Midnight. Go home.

That is what we did yesterday, last night and today. We like to spend days with each other. It's a miracle we don't get totally sick of each other. Oh wait, we do. And it ends up with us sleeping all over each other and teasing Benji into Honey Do You Love Me? games and such truck. I should have taken pictures. It was rather quite hilarious. The hilarity of it was astounding. Put Frash together and you get chaos. Mostly. Sometimes you get us sleeping, snuggled up in her single bed or in my queen size one or on the couch.