Monday, February 15, 2010


ME:  Grammy, look what Alfie gave me for Valentine’s Day.

GRAMMY:  A picture of feet?

ME:  They’re not just any feet, Grammy.  They’re Julius’.  And those are my hands.  Alfie Photo-shopped some pictures he took of us, and this is what he came up with.  Isn't it a great gift?

GRAMMY:  Oh, Lord.  Someone’s in love.

ME:  I’m not in love, Grammy.

GRAMMY:  No, but he is.

ME:  What makes you think that?

GRAMMY:  Because that’s either the gift of a scheming gigolo or someone who cares.  Since you’re already sleeping with him, he’s not plotting to get you in bed, and he’s not after your money because you don’t have a pot to piss in.  So he’s obviously someone who gives a damn.  Lucky you.

ME:  You say that as though it’s a bad thing, Grammy.

GRAMMY:  It is.  If you marry him, you’ll move in with him.

ME:  Oh, Grammy.  Even if I did get married, I’d never abandon you.  I’d still visit you.

GRAMMY:  That’s the problem.  If you marry him, you’ll be right next door.  I’ll have your sorry ass over here every day.  (sigh)  Lucky me.

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1 comment:

I'm Jet . . . said...

love it! In fact, I love it so much I'm glapiked!