Leave Me Alone!

Since I have been partner-less for nearly a year now, there is a ridiculous number of women wandering around southeast Idaho with my personal cell phone number.  It's a long story as to why I finally gave up trying to keep my number secret from the hoards of baby making ladies up here, but the diverse types of texts, pics, and phone calls I get all to myself, has made the inconvenience worth it.

When I leave town occasionally to collect my wits, it stresses me out a little because I feel badly when my ladies reach me and I have to tell them I can't be with them during their birth.  It's so much easier and less guilt provoking to hear about their blessed event after the fact!  However, since I can still receive texts and pics when I'm out of town, I can at least feel helpful to most of my ladies.  The problem with being "helpful" is that I receive loads of nasty ass pics and personal information from just about everyone.  Worse yet, I find nothing unusual or disturbing about any of it!  I really do have a crazy life!  I've had women send me pics of their rashes, their husband's rashes, maxi pads, vaginal discharge, and infected umbilical cords, just to name a few.  I've read texts about every intimate detail in a woman's life you can possibly imagine as well as every bodily function.  And don't even get me started on the wild phone conversations I'm always having!  And if you think for one second I'm exaggerating about any of this, just give me a number to reach you with, I have multiple ways to prove it!

I know one crazy lady in particular who I don't even consider a patient anymore.  She and I have had so many conversations since her last baby that she's practically family.  And just like one of my kin, she is constantly trying to annoy me with loads of really disrespectful pictures and texts.  For instance, a few weeks ago when she knew I was up slaving to catch a baby at the hospital, she bugged me with this:

She was rubbing in the fact that I still haven't tried the fish and chips at a local pub called the Celt.  Guess what I ate that night?  Lorna Doones and Diet Dr. Pepper - because as outlined in other posts, I am disgusting.

My tormentor played it cool for a few weeks but just texted me this a couple of days ago:

As if I care!  It looks horrible!  We then had a mildly hostile conversation about whether Reed's Dairy was in fact better than any other ice cream shop on God's green earth.  It's lucky she was texting when she told me she didn't care for Reed's because if she'd been near me, she might have lost half her face!

You know what "nameless stranger?"  That's it!  I'm not going to take the abuse lying down anymore!  Two can play at the offensive game.  Check out this pic I took just for you:

You know what this is?  you better think it's a pic of my butt!  Because if you tell me it's just a pic of my elbow crease like my hubby did, you really will lose half your face!  Now, let's go get some chocolate milk at Reed's Dairy and look at some vaginal discharge pictures together...  I'm buying!