I can hear you 2 shitheads! If I even smell a hint of beer in Elizabeth’s room, or you spill something, I’m pregnant with “MJ The Terrible’s” twins, so I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to claim temporary insanity for killing you both.
MJ’s buddy Kevin is here for the wedding, so let the bromance begin.
Kevin and MJ have already come up with professional wrester nicknames for me, when I get all “preggers”- Malito, Malia-da-belly, Maliacane, and Mamma Mayhem, were the top 3 I think.
Here are my from the bedroom comments about your conversation so far.
Kevin, I think your belly is still bigger than mine.
MJ, do not take all of them. That is cruel. You have an unfair Langley advantage, and you know it. He has Microsoft, you have Macrosoft, is funny though.
No, MJ isn’t poking the babies when we have sex.
Yes, my “cooter” is going to go back to normal after I give birth to the twins.
Who calls Krispy Kreme donuts to request a call back when the “Hot now” sign is on, at 5 in the morning, and no, they don’t put cocaine sprinkles on the glazed donuts!
Thank you Kevin for volunteering to be my “Punetang Push Cheerleader” if MJ needs a minute, because “You might need a break or something bro. You could get tired if she don’t push right and it takes awhile.” I’ll do my best to drive through window it for you.
Ugh! Boys!
