By Any Other Name

Hubby: So, you still blogging about your knitting?

Liver Chick: Yup.

Hubby: Is that all you talk about is just you and your knitting?

Liver Chick: Well, no. I do mention a little bit of my personal life too.

Hubby: So you talk about me? You’re not using my real name are you?

Liver Chick: No, I don’t use any real names. My name is Liver Chick and I refer to you as ‘Hubby’.

Hubby: ‘Hubby’. That’s very generic.

Liver Chick: Well, I know that some bloggers use fancier names or nicknames  for their husbands, but I really didn’t know what to call you, so I just went with ‘Hubby’. Is there another name you would like me to use?

Hubby: How about ‘Well-Hung’ or ‘My Pimp Daddy’?

Liver Chick: I am not going to refer to you as ‘Well-Hung’ on my blog.

Hubby: Oh, so you’re saying that I’m not well-hung?

Liver Chick: No! I’m saying that I’m not going to mention that to thousands of complete strangers online. The last thing I need is a whole bunch of women and men emailing me asking how long you are and what price you charge for your services.

Hubby: Well, that would depend on how much they’re willing to pay me for my services.

Liver Chick: I’m not about to pimp out my husband on my knitting blog. It’s not that kind of blog.

Hubby: Yes it is! I’ve read some of your stuff. I know what you knitters talk about. Sitting there discussing long stiff rods.

Liver Chick: They are called knitting needles.

Hubby: Oh, is that the new slag word you use for it now, (making quotation sign with his fingers), ‘Needles’? (Talking in a high-pitch sound to mimic women talking): “I like six inches. It gets the job done.” “Girlfriend, you should try eight inches, there’s nothing like it.” “Honey, once you get your hands on a twelve-inch, you never want to go back.”

Liver Chick: (laughing out loud) Okay, our conversations, to some outsiders, may sound a bit perverted. But that’s beside the point. You have to come up with a better name then ‘Well-Hung’ or I’m just going to keep calling you ‘Hubby’ on my blog.

Hubby: Just call me ‘Whitie’ of ‘Cracker’, then.

Liver Chick: Yes, and get my ass kicked by people thinking I’m a racist. The last thing I need is the freakin’ KKK after me.

Hubby: What’s the KKK going to do, text you images of a burning cross?

Liver Chick: They would probably send me a computer virus that as soon as I opened it would show my blog going up in flames and little men dressed in sheets dancing around it.

Hubby: (laughing)

Liver Chick: Don’t laugh, it’s probably true. So, no. I’m not calling you ‘cracker’ or any other racial name. I’m just going to stick with ‘Hubby’.

Hubby: No, I want something else. Okay, what about Ramon, the Latin lover or Antonio, the pool boy?

Liver Chick: Hummm. Pool Boy sounds good. Or maybe Boy Toy or Trophy Husband.

Hubby: I could be a Boy Toy. After all, you are older then me.

Liver Chick: Please, I’m not that old. I’m barely one year older then you.  

Hubby: Yes, but that still means you’ll turn 40 before I do. Wow, can you believe that? In a few years I’ll still be in my 30’s dating a 40 year old. You’ll be like my cougar wife.

Liver Chick: You know, you’re about one more remark away from being refered to as Asshole on my blog.

Hubby: I’m just messing with you. I love you, my little cougar-in-training.

Liver Chick: Maybe I’ll call you my S.O.B. instead?

Hubby: I think I’d like  Boy Toy instead.

Liver Chick: Okay, then Boy Toy it is.

Boy Toy: Liver Chick and Boy Toy. Sounds like a bad porn movie title.

Liver Chick: Or a very funny blog.