Raoul is an optometrist. He's got a lot of pet peeves, but the worst is giving an eye exam to mothers. He asks them "Which is better, A or B?" and they always say “I like them both exactly the same.”
Still, I'm no prize. I'm part of a happy couple like Trix is part of a balanced breakfast.
You can tell what men are like in bed just by looking at their cameras. Some men have simple, straightforward Kodaks. Some men have intricate machines with lots of attachments and toys. Me, I’m strictly point-and-shoot.
I’m plagued by self-doubt. Life is a journey from one place to another, but I have absolutely no clue what direction to go. I find myself really envious of animals sometimes. Like, sea turtles return every year to the spot where they were born. Birds have some kind of inner compass telling them exactly where to go for each of the seasons of the year.
Dogs, you accidentally lose them in New Jersey while you’re driving across the U. S., they’ll find you. They’ll follow your scent through swamps and wheat fields and then tap on your front door starving and shivering six months later.
Me, I'd have second thoughts. I’d be sitting in some field in Kansas, thinking, you know, maybe that’s just fried chicken I smell.
Whenever I get sick, everybody wants to give me advice. Maybe because I’m sick I get cranky, though, and I think, man, that's the stupidest advice I ever heard. Like they say I should drink hot beverages. Drink hot tea, or hot soup. And I think, right. I’ve got some virus or bacteria multiplying in my stomach, where it’s like two hundred degrees and regularly flushed with acid strong enough to clean my pool, but if I suck down half a cup of Progresso Minestrone and all of a sudden all these viruses are going to go, NO! NO! NO! NOT MINESTRONE! AIEEEE!
1 comment:
Lordy, I'm waking up slowly today! I read, "You can tell what men like [for breakfast] in bed just by looking at their cameras." I'm still trying to knock the water out of my ears.
Post a Comment