Yes, you read that right. I'm not wishing to be Forrest Gump. I wish I was The Gimp, not the Gump. And I can promise you that this has nothing to do with our outing to the sex toy shop on Sunday.
I'll leave that last sentence alone because my dear, sweet mother reads this......
So you are probably asking, "Why would a nice girl like CBM wish she was THE GIMP?" Keep your pants on people, I'm going to tell you why:
Because for the last week, I have been this gimp
I am pretty sure this is karma kicking me in the ass for wishing that I was in a wheelchair this summer so that the Mr. could push me around Vancouver. Karma probably isn't the right word here, but get off my back, I'm nursing an injury. And possible head trauma.