Have I mentioned that I can't hear a fucking thing lately, people? Have I? Have I? For someone who's a little overly offensive *cough cough*, this is detrimental to a relationship. You know, like with someone else. Like a marriage, or something similar.

INCIDENT ONE
dh: Bite my ass!
TCWH (ready to whup some ass): What?! What the fuck did you say? What did you tell me to do?
dh (motions to glass): This wine! It tastes like ass!
Yes, we at chez H seem to be obsessed with ass. Smells like, tastes like, looks like. Freud would have a field day with us. We're obviously stuck in the anal stages of our development. What an ass he is, that man. I will never forgive Bill and Ted for bringing him back in the phone booth. Chez H: All ASS! All the time! And now, back to your scheduled programming.
TCWH (ala Emily Latella): Nevermind.

INCIDENT TWO
dh: Do you want to go screw in the bug?
TCWH (incredulous and all in one breath): What? The train wasn't enough for you? I just got home from work! I'm stressed! I forgot the fucking report cards. Serpent Mom is going to hand me my ass (All ASS! All the time! We aim to please!) on a platter! We're about to eat dinner! Why do you want to screw? When did you start referring to it as a 'screw?' I'm a piece of meat to you, now? What the fuck?
dh: CRUISE! I said, "Do you want to go for a CRUISE in the bug," not, "Do you want to go screw in the bug?"! Ears! TCWH! Clean! YOUR! EARS!
TCWH (ala Emily Latella): Nevermind.

And I would imagine that's what life with me is like at times. A very old episode of Saturday Night Live. Just call me Emily.

Note: The title is a throwback to my more mature high school days when we would run from room to room in the school, gleefully, yelling, "Twat? TWAT? I CUNT HEAR YOU! I HAVE AN EAR INFUCKTION!" Pillars of morality and eloquence, we were.