This is so twisted it even scares me and that's really not easily done if you know what I mean...
A long time ago (and I mean a LONG time ago) I was in college in Oshkosh and made a journey up to Appleton and found myself in a (THE) gay bar there. Long story short, I go home with the bar tender. His name was Gene. He was blond, furry, uncut and drove a truly hot pumpkin orange Saab Sonnet coupe. Anyway, we had a rather hot time back in his trailer. Give me a break, it was 1976! We "dated" for awhile (that's gay for doing the horizontal hula for a couple of weeks) and then lost contact with each other. Again, it was 1976 so get over it.
So, let's jump ahead to 2005. I meet this guy who turns out to be my fourth (and current) husband. Sweet guy, I have to admit and I'm actually monogamous with him. So far, life is good, right? Awhile back we're talking about our individual "good old days" and I mention this Gene guy in Appleton. The more I talk the more he keeps turning around in his chair and looking at me. With this look of surprise in his eyes. I keep talking and he suddenly goes all deer in headlights on me. Guess what? Gene just happens to be my current hubbies cousin!!! OFMTT!!! Seriously, JFMTT! Yes, I did my husbands cousin thirty-five freaking years ago!!! This is like something out of a Tennessee William's play for christ's sake. Only without Maggie, Fat Daddy, the ice cream on my nylons and a basement full of mendacity. OK, maybe with a basement full of mendacity. Or at least a Goober or two and and WAY to many Bricks!
Does this make me an incestuous whore or just a totally hot gay whore from the '70's that just managed to get a lot of air time??? Is the Fox Valley so damned small you just naturally sleep your way through an extended family without realizing it??? Satan, just have the maid turn down the bed and leave a case or two of Toblorone bars on the pillow for me, OK! I'll drown my guilt in Swiss chocolate, that always seems to help...
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