“What are you so deep in thought about, Sue?”
“Oh, I’m sitting here contemplating the complex mind of the male species…”
“I’m fairly certain you’re overcomplicating matters. I mean, the very fact that you believe they could be an entire species unto themselves…”
“Boobs…”
“Is what they think of, or what you’re naming their species? I need a little more to go on…”
“That’s all Mark ever thinks about. My boobs. And maybe football.”
“Did you ask him that…what he was thinking about?”
“Yeah, but he just glances down at my chest and mumbles, ‘Nothing…’.”
“Maybe that’s really what he’s thinking about when you ask…nothing. People can get pedantic like that, given a chance. And why are you complaining if their your boobs?”
“Katie, do you need something? Because you’re not really helping.”
“Boobs.”
“Excuse me?”
“According to you, I need boobs – if men are going to be thinking about me.”
“I didn’t say they’d be thinking about you, Kate. Just your boobs.”
“Good enough. Look, Sue, you’re convoluting this. Go to a game. Take your boobs. Talk to Mark instead of wondering what he’s thinking. If he says nothing, give him something to think about.”
“Oh, I forgot. You’re the expert on this topic.”
“I am sociologically versed on what you call the male species concerning War and Sexual Selection Theories. You want Markcelot to sweep you off your feet like a hairy girl when his biology tells him to woo you long enough to cause your boobs to swell, then go off to war to protect your other assets. Football’s about as aggressive as he’s allowed to get in that cozy recliner. And who else is there to battle besides the mid-forties bulge? Give the poor guy a break.”
“Give him a break? And my dreams?”
“Go get in a good psychological nap, sis. Statistical odds say you have a 67% better chance of dreaming than him anyway. If that doesn’t work, try a romance novel.”
“Katie…you’re the boob!”
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The “Retro Lazy-Boy Stylish 880 recliner” image (circa 70′s) that I’ve personally entitled
“Catering to Your Man’s Dreams…”
is located at:
http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4066/4518189734_d1048483c5.jpg
Well, then this pretty much came next. Again, not me. What a relief, right? I’m thinking so. Otherwise, I may need to go get my hormones checked. Or at least schedule an upper lip wax.
Now here’s a better possibility, all things considered. (Those things being that Jody and the outcome of ARMY cadences never really go that well together.)
Today’s quick post is in response to
