Gleeking


Gleeking.

It sounds like it should be related to the hit show Glee.

It’s not. I wish it was. It would make me tap my feet and sing along.

I know…what the hell is gleeking? I asked the same thing. Basically it is spitting. People that can gleek are able to, somehow, don’t ask me HOW they do it…but they force the spit from a saliva gland in the bottom of their mouth.  And it shoots out about 5 feet!

It’s freaking weird shit! There are YouTube videos and websites dedicated on how to do it!

And MJ is an expert at it. How do I know? Because I have, unfortunately, been one of the targets of his gleeks. Not on my sleeve, or my back. Nope. He has much better aim that than. Or worse?

Right in the face.

All I can think is that he is so lucky that I have gotten calm in my old age. The old me would have shocked him with my ninja fast skills. I would have lunged at him faster than a cobra lunges at his charmer.

And knocked him on his ass.

Not that I would ever hit my children. I would have knocked him out with my tongue. I earned the Sassy Bitch title and I will use it.

He’s gleeked me before. On my sleeve, my back, even IN MY CAR! It is the grossest thing I have ever seen. He has now been forbidden to gleek in my presence. If he is caught, he has to clean whatever surface is around him.  TWICE, for good measure. Even if it isn’t gleeked on. He even attempts to gleek…he is cleaning.

He hates that. So he doesn’t do it. At least when I am around.

And that’s all I really care about. Out of sight, out of mind.

And he does drive me out of my mind at times.

Forever Sassy!

p.s. I won’t be around Saturday. I will be out spending quality time with JC. Shopping, eating, Trans-Siberian Orchestra. Oh and gambling! Be back with stories on Sunday!

Advertisements