These are the kinds of retarded conversations you have when your wife is breastfeeding and you're both giddy from lack of sleep...
ME: "Hey honey. Have I told you that you're my breast friend?"
BOSSLADY: "That's great, Chief. You're my breast friend too."
ME: "Do you want to cook tonight or do you want to go out to a breastaurant?"
BOSSLADY: "Let's go try that new place up in Brestchester."
ME: "Ok...but I hear there's a lot of traffic on the Breast Side Highway."
BOSSLADY: "Don't worry. We'll take Breast End Avenue."
ME: "Or maybe we'll go up Central Park Breast."
BOSSLADY: "Too bad the San Gennaro Breastival is over."
ME: "Yeah. I love that time of year. It's the breast."
BOSSLADY: "By the way, zip up your pants, Chief. I can see your breasticles."
ME: "Thanks, honey. It's breast I cover them up."
Yep, we can do this for hours at a time, days on end. That's why I LOVE the BossLady.
Shizzle my whizzle. This shit's funny, yo!
Posted by: | October 22, 2004 at 10:03 PM
"Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast."~Congreve
Posted by: bonnie | October 26, 2004 at 11:18 AM