Boyfriend

This is my boyfriend.

 NOT my best work. I can't draw him in my style, so screw it, we're Adventure Time-ing this biatch for the rest of this post!

He takes great pleasure in the fact that he is easily several times my size (I'm barely five feet tall, he's over six and built like a grizzy bear had a love child with an ox, then that child had a love child with a dinosaur, and that child was him) and uses this to his advantage mercilessly when we get into wrestling matches, whether they be tickle-based or whatever else. He also thinks it's hilarious that I get creeped out easily by things like cardboard cutouts of people, puppets, Paula Dean and this weird bug thing he does with his hand that make me squeal like a little girl and run away. He does have his own weakness though, and it comes in the form of a small bit of rubber horror.

The rubber fetus.

BLARG I CAN'T EVEN DRAW AT STYLE RIGHT I SUCK.

This thing is a weird little...thing...that got handed out at the faire from this anti-abortion booth. It's basically a little rubber representation of a fetus developed at three months-kind of like a stress ball, but if you squeeze it you feel guilty. Or...well, should feel guilty, I guess, I don't particularly feel all that bad about smashing a little squishy baby fetus. That probably doesn't speak well for my psyche, but whatever.

Anyway, this thing creeps him the heck out. Threatening to put it in his bed is usually enough to quiet his bouts of random singing in public or whatever else he's doing at the moment. I can also chase him around the house with it. This usually ends with him locking himself in his room or something (after removing the handle because I can pick locks) or something of that sort. I threw it in his room once through the barely-open door, where it landed on his bed. He promptly locked me out of the room and tried to get rid of it. I could hear him yelling from outside the door.
Zack/Boyfriend: OH GOD IT'S TOUCHING MY PANTS
Me: *snickering*
Zack: AAUUUGHHH IT'S ON MY BED
Me: Do you want me to get it?
Zack: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHGH

And it proceeded roughly that way until he finally threw it out of his room again, where I collected it, threats were made on both sides. I think I won this round...though I still have to catch up, what with all the times he's scared the ever loving daylights out of me with the stupid cutout, the pictures of Paula Dean (seriously, the way she grimaces at the camera is horrible! It's like she's baring her teeth at you!), the little firework popper things, jumping out at me or any of the other things he's done that scare or freak me out. Bargle.

He also likes shows like Jericho, which I hate because they freak me out and make me jumpier than usual - like when some jets from the nearby air base passed by really close overhead-like, so close that the scream of the engines was literally physically painful, and the windows were rattling and the whole house shook-I freaked the heck out and for a second thought it was a missile or something, and I'm not usually paranoid at all.

That's a normal thing to think all the time, right?

Aaaanywho, boyfriend is the kind of guy who waves his arms around a lot when he talks, and sometimes the arm-waving is his sole answer to things. Like, when I asked him how he could possibly be hot earlier today, since I was cold, this was his reply:

He's the only person I know who can articulate keyboard spasm into words.

Yeeeeeahhh....

But all the weirdness is okay, because I get to cuddle up to him and he doesn't seem to mind most of my weirdness, so that makes everything okay.

Even though for some reason he doesn't like me biting him. Odd.

Fairly accurate depiction of our size difference, actually. XD