“What’s wrong with you now? Why are you making that noise?”
“I went to the gym. Things hurt.”
“Did you cry like a woman?”
“Yes, but a very strong one. How did you not see me? You did see me. I know you did. Every time I address the squat rack I can feel your eyes on me.”
“Fucken idiot. I only look at you when you start dancing to Beyonce’s “All The Single Ladies”. That cracks me up.”
“I got some moves, huh?”
“Like a washing machine with a broken spin-cycle. What are you doing? No, don’t you come near me. You stink like a bear.”
“I’ll have a shower and then I’ll come near you.”
“No, you won’t, fool. And do not try any of that cupping my boobs bullshit on me either. I’ll turn your knees into paste. And then I’ll call the cops and have you thrown in jail for attacking me.”
“I am allowed to cup my wife’s boobs! It says so in the rules!”
“What rules are they?”
“The marriage rules.”
“Oh dream the fuck on. Those rules have been over for decades. You grab my shit when I don’t want you to, I stab you and call the cops.”
“You can’t stab me for grabbing your boobs.”
“Of course I can. Bitches can stab you horrible gropey pricks whenever we want to these days. They are the new rules. We’re over you setting fire to us, throwing us off buildings, and treating us like punching bags.”
“I have never set fire to you, tossed you off a building, or put the choice uppercuts into your belly. I did try to suplex you once when I was channeling Macho Man Randy Savage…”
“And what happened to you then?”
“You hit me with a fry-pan.”
“And you squealed and howled like a bitch.”
“Yeah, well it fucken hurt.”
“That’s the nature of fry-pans.”
“Look, cupping your boobs is not an act of aggression. It’s an act of love and adoration.”
“If I don’t want my boobs cupped, then I’m going to fry-pan you.”
“But how am I supposed to know when that is?”
“You’re not.”
“So how is that supposed to work then?”
“How is that my problem?”
“Well, they’re your boobs.”
“That’s right.”
“But I’m meant to have access to them.”
“You’re meant to be fry-panned. That’s the only access you’re meant to have. The fry-pan.”
I love her so much.
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