I loved my life. After tricking Kristin into wearing my ring we did a short promo tour around England. It took MI-5, I mean our fans, two days to freak the fuck out about me being engaged.
Who knew that wasn’t allowed? When I say two days, I mean they noticed on day one and “confirmed” it on day two. I guess on day one it was just jewelry. Then came the Twitter fall out.
She’s a gold digger. We’d just got back together. She’s too old. I’m too young. My personal favorite was how she’d mesmerized me with sex. There was quite a bit of crying over the loss of me.
And I was pleasantly surprised by the number of well-wishers. Anyone who’s been paying attention can see I’m happy when she’s mine and sad when she’s not.
Apparently that is proof of the “Sex Mesmerization Theory”.
After the promo tour we got to go home for seven whole weeks. Good thing. A shit ton of boxes had arrived. Kristin threw away about twenty percent of it as we unpacked.
I tried really hard not to laugh. I was not successful. The first three weeks were spent shopping for furniture and setting up house.
I was picky about the family room and she was picky about the bedroom. Not that she didn’t get an opinion on the family room, but the final decision was mine. The bedroom was hers.
We were happy with both in the end. The rest we didn’t care much so we just picked out whatever.
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