Boyfriend Ate Two Whole Bags of Skittles and Now He is Terrorizing Me

Remember how I said “I am going to write another post today”?  Well, I’m trying, but Boyfriend is not being very helpful at all. 

That sentence up there?  The one that I wrote just then?  It took me 27 minutes to complete it.  Do you want to know why?  Because Boyfriend is all cracked out on sugar and excited about Halloween because he is the most festive fucking person I have ever met in my life.  He has been almost constantly interrupting me with a steady stream of overly excited verbal diarrhea, including jewels like:
“Never eat a burrito from both ends… ”  
And “you should Google the ‘Merry Maids’… maybe we can get one and she’ll make me cookies… wait… we don’t have internet, huh?  Remind me to Google ‘Merry Maids’ when we get the internet again”
And  “Do you want to get me some milk?  Are you going to answer me?  No seriously… can you get me some milk please?  Do you want me to be grumpy?”
Guess what he’s doing now?  Really… guess.
I bet you didn’t guess that he is eating a burrito, reading TIME magazine and singing the theme song to Transformers, but that’s what he’s doing. 
He just cracks like this every now and then.  He spends the majority of his time being the level-headed, responsible one in our relationship and then, out of nowhere, he decides to eat two whole bags of Skittles and his blood sugar goes all crazy and he loses his shit and starts doing stuff like bumping into me with the top of his head while laughing uncontrollably.  
He just asked me to get him milk again.  He says that he will write stuff for me while I’m away getting him milk.  
Boyfriend:  Milk is a great source of vitamins and minerals and it helps the body grow to be strong.  It’s nutritious and delicious! Did you know that milk comes from cows? No, seriously, think about that.  That’s fucked up. I don’t care though.  I think they should replace water in drinking fountains with milk.  Not skim milk though. Skim milk is bullshit.
That was Boyfriend.  He wrote that, took one swig straight out of the jug of milk and then said “Mmmm… That’s good.  Can you take it back now?”  And then he set the jug of milk in my lap. 
He is antagonizing me on purpose because I spend too much time blogging and not enough time staring at him and listening to him prattle on about milk.  
Now he is lamenting the fact that FedEx doesn’t go by “Federal Express” anymore because they had to shorten it “since even drunk people can say FedEx and then even drunk people can send packages… try saying Federal Express when you are drunk: (makes incomprehensible sounds)”
Now he is asking me if I ever heard the story of how FedEx started because “it is a story of triumph… like, they should have made a basketball movie about it except instead of basketball, it would be about packages… and about overcoming the odds – can you go to Tassimo dot com?  Oh wait… nevermind.  Are you just writing down everything I say?  No seriously?  Are you?  Stop it!” 
He’s getting kind of mad, but guess what?  Maybe he should stop talking and let me actually write a real blog post.
Now I am trying to convince Boyfriend that my journalistic integrity depends on being able to post the truth about him.  He said “I am going to sue you for libel - I don’t even know what that means, but I’ll do it!” 
Do you want to know what’s weird about Boyfriend?  To most people, he seems introverted, even downright shy.  He almost never talks.  But when we are hanging out in the confines of our apartment, I cannot get him to shut up.  When he is attention starved or hyperglycemic he talks almost constantly.  Right now, he is literally reading every ad in TIME magazine out loud to me.  He is yelling “Pleasing cheeses!!!!!!”  Apparently there is an ad for pleasing cheeses.  It’s like if there are words in his head, they are going to come out of his mouth regardless of whether they are pertinent or even intelligible.   Sometimes he just sits there and makes sounds. 
Okay, he went into the kitchen to make sugar cookies.  He is yelling something, but I can’t really understand him.  I’m just going to ignore him and let him talk it out with himself and then maybe I can actually write something witty or intelligent.  Oh wait… he figured out that I wasn’t listening and he stuck his head around the corner to announce:  “This recipe is crazy!  There’s two of everything – two cups of sugar, two sticks of butter, two teaspoons of vanilla… except the flour kind of fucks it up since there are five cups of it.”
He likes round numbers and orderliness.  He can’t stand it when I dig for cookie dough and mess up the symmetry of the ice cream we are eating.  He has a total boner for charts and graphs – he makes spreadsheets in Excel for entertainment.  
I was going to write a post about my aversion to sunglasses, but -
He just wrote “NANANANANANA” on my thigh.  I tried to stop him several times but he was doggedly persistent in his goal of branding my flesh with his inane scribbling. 
I should probably stop writing and pay attention to him before I end up looking like I passed out first at a frat party.   He is really ruthless when he gets into “drawing-on-skin” mode.  I feel like I am writing in a war-zone with dangerous and chaotic events happening all around me – except for that I’m not really in any danger. 
I’ll write about sunglasses tomorrow.  Maybe.  Or maybe I'll write about something else.  I like to keep things mysterious...

Here is an abnormally tan/orange-looking picture of my thigh with the word "NANANNANANANA" written on it in blue ink.  
I promise I am not actually this orange.  I just had to crank up the saturation of the picture so that I didn't look pasty and also so you could see the word clearly, becuase otherwise I might have just looked like I had a bruise.  
God, please excuse me for this post.  
P.S.  Do you want to hear something interesting about you guys?  I have written much, much longer posts than my last post, but since my last post had 36 numbered steps, you got all intimidated and were like "meh - too long."  I am sorry I made you undertake a multi-step task to read about how I abhor undertaking multi-step tasks.  It just isn't right. 
I always write long posts when I remember to take my drugs.   I still have an ADD brain that has lots of thoughts, but suddenly I have the focusing power to actually express all of them.  You should see me talk - I'm like... well probably a lot like Boyfriend was tonight.