The Weathermate and I got in a big fight last week… something about “sleeping with other ‘humans.'” Anyway, in an effort to make it up to the ‘mate, I put together a real nice meal on Saturday night. I even made a mix tape. When “Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic” came on, I turned to the ‘mate and said, “Babe, this is how I really feel about you.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Even when you let out a big fart. Every little thing.”
Tomorrow’s forecast: Zero percent chance of hot make-up sex. Turns out talking about poop scooting isn’t sexy.
