ACTUAL EMAIL FROM MY GIRLFRIEND:
Dear Ice,
Until you get some real work done around here, I am going on strike.
No longer will I clean, cook, or wear yoga pants. I will not sweep the mound of cigarette ashes from your computer table or remove the food from your computer screen. And as far as waxing your back, you are on your own. If you decide to stop hanging around on wicked fire with all your pint sized weenie friends I might change my mind.
Until then, you can expect to sleep outside with the sled dogs.
Love,
your cold, cold, Eskimo girlfriend