The Italian is a bastard. And Besos gets her toes lopped off.
1. You may recall the previous entry in which I briefly discussed The Italian’s gratitude toward someone who helped his girlfriend pick out a certain something for her to wear. There was some natural curiosity about what exactly this outfit was. I couldn’t figure it out from the description he gave me so today, while we were on the phone, he found it online and sent me the link. I opened it up and looked at the picture. And then I said to him, “You. Fucking. Lucky. Bastard.”
Calling it an outfit is accurate. Because…parts of it were cut out. And the rest of it was see-through.
Bastard.
2. I sent flowers to Besos on Friday. Her reaction? She called me and sing-songed, “Youuuu liiiike meeeee.” It made me want to laugh and pull out my hair at the same time.
I told The Italian that I sent her flowers. He was shocked. He said, “You sent her flowers?! Flowers are a declaration. And it ain’t the declaration of independence.”
Bastard.
3. The other day, Besos said to me, “I have big feet.” Unless a girl’s feet are slapping around like clown shoes, I am unlikely to notice or care. I had never thought her feet were big so I was unsure how to respond. I mean, she doesn’t look like she’s going to topple over or anything but I’ve also never looked at her and thought to myself that it would take a pretty healthy gale to tip her over, either. I just don’t notice these things.
Today, she sent me a text message: “I also have a big head. You might want to trade me in for a smaller model.” She’s 5′4″. How big can her head be? Here is our exchange:
RE: “Oh yeah? Trade you for someone with a smaller head and smaller feet?”
Besos: “Exactly.”
RE: “I’ll take out an ad.”
Besos: “Oh.”
RE: “Yeah, I thought about it some more and I’m just going to deal with your big noggin. But we’re going to lop off your feet. That seems like a good compromise.”
Besos: “Hey! But they are pretty.”
RE: “Okay, you can keep the feet and we’ll just lop off the toes.”
Besos: “Okay…I guess.”
See? I am solution oriented.
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Just a random attorney writing about daily life with Little Filthy, my rotten dog.
July 21st, 2008 at 12:07 am
i must see said outfit in order for you to be SWEARING in your blog!
July 21st, 2008 at 9:29 am
Exactly what kind of declaration does the Italian deem sending flowers to be?
And can you imagine dating someone with no toes? How would they balance themselves?
July 21st, 2008 at 10:02 am
You are such a dude.
And you should at least post a link to said outfit because I’m sure my mental imaginings aren’t doing it justice.
Big feet rock! For some reason, mine have grown half a size in the past couple of years. Crazy! I didn’t know they did that.
July 21st, 2008 at 10:44 am
I agree with the above… I want to see this outfit. Maybe we’ll all buy one now. Wouldn’t you love your little fan club to all be wearing said outfit? hahah…. OK I’ll stop.
I’m pretty sure my feet have grown as well, although definitely not large. What size are her feet? I hate feet. I don’t like anything about them. It’s probably because I run and mine get gross after training for a marathon… but still. Yuck.
I have a friend who shot himself in the foot once. Accidentally, of course. We call him 9er now. This happened when we were in high school. We’re mean.
July 21st, 2008 at 1:36 pm
Srsly. Need a picture. Want to buy for next deserving boy!
July 22nd, 2008 at 8:58 am
OK, I’ve finally gotten my head out of my ass and did a catch up of what’s happening in Random world.
Do you want to set up a phone date?! I do! I do!
July 22nd, 2008 at 9:19 am
I think that a women wearing lingerie for a guy is the female equivalent of buying flowers for a girl. And they are both the same “declaration”. Both can be equally pleasing whether a simple arrangement or an exotic colorful mix of creativity. Now that I am pondering this, I better get on the horn and get flowers sent to my wife at work right now.
July 24th, 2008 at 2:45 am
I want to see this outfit. My curiosity is absolutely piqued.
July 24th, 2008 at 7:41 am
1. Lily - Sent you an e-mail.
2. QTMama - That’s a really good question. I’ll have to ask him what exactly flowers mean. I didn’t give it a lot of thought (what flowers mean), I just got an urge to send her flowers and didn’t pause to think about if I was showing my cards to the table.
And NO on the no-toes. Yuck.
3. Bev - You want one used? For $5? God Bless Amazon.
4. SnarkyRunner - will send you an email with link to outfit. Prepare thyself.
5. Vittoria - Sent you a link. All I can say is WEDDING NIGHT.
6. Mamaphunk - date date date. I’m swamped until Sunday. How’s your Sunday looking?
7. Buzd - Awesome analogy. I’m going to tell this to Besos. Hey, to comment on your blog, I have to register, right? Just wondering if I was missing something.
July 24th, 2008 at 4:46 pm
Yes unfortunately, I have been fixing the site and now it is looking more as I had envisioned and getting easier to navigate. I am using Joomla which doesn’t operate quite as smooth as WordPress, but it keeps me occupied. If you register and comment before my wife I will give you a prize, and by the subject of the site you can imagine what it might be.
July 27th, 2008 at 5:00 pm
I too must see this outfit… I’m still trying to get the Mister to buy me new boobs. Perhaps this will be incentive enough? We shall see…
I too have big feet. However I am 5′ 10″ so tiny feet would probably be odd, and I’m already odd enough thank you.
How big could her head be? If she was Stewie I’m sure you would have noticed already!
July 27th, 2008 at 11:20 pm
Buzd - Oh man, I’d register but I’m anonymous. However, if you and the Mrs. want to meet up for drinks, hell, I’ll scrap the anonymity.
Okay, I’m an idiot. Just realized again that you’re in D.C.
The site’s looking really good.
July 27th, 2008 at 11:20 pm
Tiffany - You WANT new boobs? And your husband doesn’t want you to have them?
Okay, just so we’re on the same page.
You want bigger boobs or newer boobs and you hate foreplay.
Am I following this so far?
July 28th, 2008 at 3:21 am
Not quite…
I lost 55+ lbs, and starting running. The bewbies are no more, I was nursing and had some killer knockers - lost a bunch of weight and I’m now the poster child for the Itty Bitty Boobie Brigade. I just want my old boobs back. Since my options are either being fat again, or getting fakes…I’ll go for the fakes. The mister is just being cheap - lmao - he has no moral or aethetic objection…he just doesn’t wanna fork over the fundage yet. He’ll eventually see the light…
And I don’t HATE foreplay…I just don’t find it all the necessary. A little is nice, but lets not linger when we can just get to the good stuff. I’ve heard some woman are like crock pots and men are like microwaves - well the big guy upstairs crossed my wires or something, because I’m all microwave baby!! LOL…