I know that I said adventures with pineapple would be next but we are taking a slight detour from the norm for just a bit. I need to talk about wetsuits. You heard me correctly, wetsuits. I know it isn’t a recipe, a craft or a story about the monkeys but I can’t help myself. Maybe there is a full moon out tonight? Who knows. I have been thinking about this topic for a while.

If you are of the male persuasion this may not be the blog for you, leave while you have a chance. Seriously. Especially if you are one of my surfer’s buddiesdon’t you dare disclose this πŸ™‚

Wetsuits are something that my darlin’ surfer wears to keep himself warm when he is surfing in the cold winter waters. They are made of neoprene a synthetic rubber & they stink up the bathroom horribly when they are drying out. Let me repeat that, they S-T-I-N-KΒ  HORRIBLY. That being said, seeing my love wearing one brings out the hedonist in me. Yep, I said it. Hedonist. Don’t worry my parents raised me well, along with the the nuns. These are occasional hedonistic tendencies and lets be honest I am a redhead so it was bound to happen.Β  14 years later and I still get weak in the knees looking at my surfer. Add skintight clothing over his athletic form into the mix and I get the Ga Ga’s something bad.

He-don-ist : noun; A person whose life is devoted to the pursuit of pleasure and self-gratification. Pursuit of or devotion to pleasure, especially to the pleasures of the senses.

Ga Ga’s: crazy redhead terminology; A condition that over takes Tickled Red caused by seeing her surfer in certain attire, positions or with certain facial expressions/looks. All causes for the condition can change at random. Exception: wetsuits and board shorts are always linked to the symptoms. The aforementioned causes can be triggered by unforeseeable moods and moments. They are not entirely specific in nature which explains the symptoms. Symptoms- Glassy eyes, shortness of breathe, blushing, incoherent speech, mischievous smiles & behavior as well as occasional hedonistic thoughts. This condition has no cure. The symptoms can be temporarily alleviated with hugs and kisses from her surfer but reoccur frequently.

Oh yeah! My darlin’ in his wetsuit is absolutely what I would define as the utmost in self -gratification of the senses. The man keeps getting better looking and is in better shape the older that he gets. It just so happens that his wetsuit shows it all off nicely…for me anyway. What is that sound when a kid runs their finger very quickly over their puckered out lips? Bububububub? You know what I mean. That’s my mental state when he looks like this. Seriously bad Ga Ga’s my friends.Β  I have been told by my friend Amy, and fellow surf wife/mom, that theΒ  attraction I have for my love in his wetsuit is weird. Gee… go figure, I’m weird πŸ™‚ Who would have guessed.

There is just something about him in a skintight body suit that makes me smile ever just so. You know the smile that I am speaking of. That certain smile in which ifΒ  anyone were to see you, they would know immediately that you were having indecent thoughts about a certain surfers nicely shaped muscles. Back muscles…sigh, my fav’…bum…nice…thigh muscles…yowza!

His wetsuits may permeate my bathroom with an odor more offensive than a locker room full of sweaty socks. They may stink to high heaven but when they look like this on…who cares. I will deal with the stench. Bless the man or woman whom came up with them, I owe you one big time.

Wetsuits look even better in the water…go figure πŸ™‚ Lord help my hedonistic thoughts.

I apologize for the out of focus pic’s. He was in a hurry to catch what little waves there were tonight. He also had no sympathy for my hedonism or my need for photos to feed my addiction of skintight clothing clinging to his lovely form. That’s okay I will have plenty of opportunities in the future to get the perfect shot, the rest of my life to be precise. In the meantime I have this one of him in his under armour from our snowboarding trip to tide me over. I told you his back was my favorite. The socks add that perfect touchΒ  don’t you think? I am a bad woman I know.

TICKLED is not the word tonight. The bubububububub sound pretty much sums it up. Hopefully he won’t get me for this. Nah, he knows me too well. He had a feeling trouble was afoot when I was snapping photos of him and giggling. If I remember correctly he used the word weird as well πŸ™‚

I may not have been able to start my project/recipe with pineapple (tomorrow for sure) but at least he has brownies to make up for this.

I can not promise you that I will never blog about his athletic form or wetsuits ever again. I am a woman utterly addicted to her man. A man who’s chosen sport keeps him half clothed in the summer and in skintight neoprene in the winter. How can you possibly expect me to compete with that? I am only human after all.

Hopefully when I do I won’t drive you to crazy with my Ga Ga’s.

Tickled Red