Last night, as Becca and I were getting ready for bed, she turned her back to me and sneezed. She's allergic to dust, and sometimes she'll sneeze anywhere from two to seven times in a row. I feel bad for her, but it also kind of annoys me for some reason. She was about to sneeze again, and for no reason, I just suddenly passed by and smacked her hard on the butt. She didn't sneeze.
ME: See? Fixed it.
BECCA: Fuck you! I should hit you back!
ME: I wasn't hitting you, I was literally giving you a helping hand.
Becca rolled her eyes and walked into the bathroom.
ME: You remember how the Fonz always used to hit the jukebox and it would work? You're welcome.
BECCA: You've got to be fucking kidding me.
ME: Or should I say: Aaaaaayyyyyy.
Monday, March 03, 2008
I Thought I Told You Abuse Was Love
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6 comments:
Hmmm... Most people I know don't start playing rock'n'roll music after being hit on the butt...
actually, I shouldn't say that, I've never tested the theory
(just another thing we'll never know, I guess - at least until the restraining order expires)
I play fusion jazz personally - when I'm hit on the butt...
Of course, the actual joke was that I "fixed" her by hitting her.
If she's still not playing music when you hit her in the ass, then she's still "broken."
;-)
The playful swat on the ass--is there anything it CAN'T do?
You two kill me.
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