We were practically childless today, so we decided to paint the town puce. Yeah, baby. We hit three bookstores, had seafood (fried) and cheesecake. We so bad.
While we were out wandering, we had the opportunity to witness once again the disturbing fashion trend of ass-labels (you know, cute little sayings embroidered or otherwise emblazoned across the backside of a young hottie).
ME: Heh. Look. She’s got “JUICY” printed on her butt.
HER: Some Imodium would clear that up.
ME: Ewwww.
HER: Oh, you don’t think that’s what she meant?
ME: Not really.
HER: Well, then she should at least have the courtesy to print her prices there, too.
Yeah, we’re judgmental. One of the good things about getting old–you get to be crotchety.
Bwahahaa! I spit toast crumbs all over my keyboard. You know, I just thought that what if she had some guy with her and he had “rock hard” sewn across the back of his jeans. A twofer!
I love being a judgmental old coot. It makes everything so much easier, doesn’t it?
“HER” is pretty funny. You guys related?
Only by marriage.
Man, I can’t wait til I’m old, means I’ll be able to be my regular crotchety self, but I’ll actually have a reason. People will look at me and think “Ah well, just some old jerk” and opposed to “What’r you’ll lookin’ at? You startin’ sometin?”
Ha!
I like you wife. We should hang out…
*still snickering after reading this about 30 minutes ago*