Freudian Slippers

In an effort to be a good, supportive wife, I find myself enthralled in helping the Aggie catch up on some of his work.

Sadly, I fear this will work out much the same way as giving Ripken a haircut.

You see, I am currently writing web content about naval ships.

Except that every time I write the word ship, it comes out SHIT.

S-H-I-T every goddamned time.

So now I'm paranoid that I will send this document into the clients discussing the brave men and women who served on these highly decorated shits. You see, without those shits, national security would be nothing. Nothing, I tell you. Yes, thank the lord for the shits, may they sail on in glory.