How Not to Say It
While channel-surfing with my lovely wife, we ended up catching the final segments of What Not to Wear. The episode featured a young woman living in Manhattan. Her “after” pictures looked great.
“I wonder what the ‘befores’ look like,” I said.
As if in response, the show cut to her “before” pictures. They were
mostly a cross of college “schlump” outfits and stuff that was locked
permanently in 1987. She looked more New Jersey than New York.
“She lives in the city,” I said, “she should dress a little.”
Wendy recoiled in horror.
“Was it something I said?” I asked.
“No, it’s how you said it. You sounded just like my mother!”
Oh, great. I think I just cancelled the next fortnight’s nookie, and I
didn’t even do anything fun like coming home completely smashed with
the boys to play Grand Theft Auto.
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Ay naman - there be trouble in paradise!
For future reference: the appropriate rejoinder is "Who loves ya, baby?"
Rich in New Jersey
Hey Joey,
I've been checking in from time to time.....thanks for the laughs.
I came across this blog, thought it was kinda kooky, yet still very endearing.....for some strange reason I thought of you? Take a looksee, it may cause a chuckle. dailydancer.com. Very Napolean Dynamitesque....
I think you're going to take home the Best Canadian Blog Award, we're rooting for you all the way, please remember the little people.... West Coast Yo! Love from Vancouver, Grace and Andrew Smith
Ah yes, 99% of it is in the delivery.......
Glad to know I am not the only one forgetting that at times.
Just for the record - horrified yes, mad no. A little frightened is all. He's supposed to turn into his parents, not mine!