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May 24, 2007

5.24.07

Why are you wearing that shirt?

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"You know, that's not nearly as sexy as when I do that," she laughed.

"I know. Why is it that you can look so damn hot wearing my dress shirts at my place, but I can't pull of wearing one of your blouses?" he replied.

She came over to him and kissed him lightly on the forehead and said, "For one, you don't have the chest for it."

"So you're saying, you'd love me even more if had man breasts?"

She glared at him and started to unbutton the blouse. "Don't even think about borrowing my bras if you do."

Posted by: Nick at May 24, 2007 10:13 AM · Permalink

It’s a silly habit more than family tradition, we fold things when we’re anxious, and I am saving and folding the paper now, as I unwrap my gifts.

My baby-girl’s face beams as I reach for the package from her. Her hands clap and clasp as I look for the glints of tape, so I can carefully remove the paper. She’s finally had all she can stand, jumps in my lap, and ferociously begins decimating the wrapping.

I never wear t-shirts, but this one I will, for amidst all the tiny handprints made of finger-paint, it reads, “world’s greatest mommy!”

Posted by: kipp at May 24, 2007 3:40 PM · Permalink

The Time Jake Overheard A New York Minute May December Romance (title)

Jake wandered the 5th Avenue boutique, waiting for 6:00pm. He overhead a Russian MILF as she dressed a twenty-something Boston boytoy.

"But I love this shirt."

"I love chicken kiev, but I know it is not clothes. That rag is filthy. This one Billy."

"Bobby. There's no neckhole."

"Billy Darling, it's the latest Prada. Your adorable face in the middle. See?"

"THERE IS NO NECKHOLE!"

"Prada, Billy, P-R-A-D-A."

"For the last time, my name is Bobby. B-O-B-B-Y."

"Fine, Versace then."

"This one doesn't have any arm holes!"

"But it's SO purple Billy!"

6:00pm. Jake walked out and caught a cab.

Posted by: f. chong rutherford at May 24, 2007 4:51 PM · Permalink