My wife was trying on some clothes that she bought through one of those deals where you host a clothing party in your home, and you get a discount on what you buy. Tupperware for ladies’ clothes.
So the stuff comes in a couple of days ago and she starts trying them on.
“How do you like this outfit?”
“Outfit? I thought it was underwear.”
Some things just slip out before you have a chance to think.
The adult toys version of the Tupperware party is much more fun.
Questions the Bus Guy has never given an honest answer to in my life:
Years of experience. Years and years.
Wait, never? So if you genuinely like the outfit or the hair, you lie? 
Unless it’s a truly hideous choice, it makes little difference to me what a woman wears. Or doesn’t wear. So long as she’s happy with it.
And hair means less. Crap, it’s HAIR, it can change tomorrow.
God, I sound like Alan Alda, don’t I?
Do these jeans make me look fat?
No, baby. The jeans do not make you look fat. (Then well under your breath or deep in your head, you can complete the thought. “…It’s your hips.”)
I have a friend who, bless his heart, tells the truth before he even thinks of lying. Here are some of the gems his girlfriend has passed along to us …
Her: So, how do you like the hair?
Him: Is it done?
Her: (trying not to get upset) It’s just fluffier, I thought I’d do something special.
Him: (having not learned his lesson yet) Well … it’s kinda … 80’s.
Her: What do you think of this shirt?
Him: I don’t know … your bra’s kinda cutting into your back-fat.
Her: Do I look okay in these shorts?
Him: No, that blob above your knee doesn’t look so hot.
In his defense, he always follows up these comments with a sincere and heart-felt “I love you”, and he really doesn’t mean to hurt her feelings. Luckily, she takes it in stride and tries not to let it get to her. We’re trying to teach him how to be a little more polite. We took him shopping with us girls and when the Girlfriend tried something on, she came out of the dressing room, and I simply said “No, don’t get that.” Scott learned there that there doesn’t necessarily need to be a reason not to buy something–just telling her she shouldn’t buy it is usually enough.
That ol’ honey-dripper.
All kinds of fun can be had at Fuckerware parties 
Barrels
I have a new hero.
**“Are these jeans too tight on my ass?”
“Babe, the Hindenburg would be too tight on your ass”**
A guy I know (NOT ME) once said this to his wife in front of a half dozen other people.
He’s still alive by some miracle.
Oh. My. Gawd.
An all-female jury would surely acquit.
You also don’t want to make the mistake of going beyond “yes” on “no” even if you have constructive opinions about her hair or clothes. Women want you to acknowledge their efforts, but most of the time they really don’t want you to get involved in their clothing or hairstyle decisions.
No No’s:
No… that’'s just dowdy. You look like your mother.
Stop with the earth tones all the time. You’re not a model for Orvis. Try a change up.
Those pants are way too tight. They give you a camel toe.
It’s not against the law to polish your shoes.
No. You don’t have the ankles for “fuck me” pumps.
Jesus. It looks like a female mullet!
“Accessorizing” doesn’t mean you have to use them all at once. Sometimes less is more baby!
What is that? A Puerto Rican prom dress?
Mr Bus Guy, you are killing me! Can you get a hernia from laughing too hard?
I personally am honest with my partner, so yeah if the pants make her ass look big, I tell her. She’s upset for a minute while she frantically searches for more “slimming” pants but when it looks good at least she knows I’m being honest when I tell her so.
I’d rather be an asshole than a liar. But then again, this is a lesbian relationship so maybe it’s different for you guys having to deal with female assfat sensitivity.
I recently bought a plaid dress for work. (I have a thing for plaid…I’m just drawn to it for some reason.)
My husband said, “Wow, honey, you even look good in that frumpy dress!”
Oh well, at least I got that one day out of it before it went off to Goodwill.
I figure that if I cn get married, I’m never lying to my sweety. She’ll hate me for at the time… but she’ll love me for it tommorow. Or else she’ll murder me in my sleep.
Art Linkletter could’ve broadened his horizons by writing a second book only calling this one “Husbands Say The Darndest Things.”
I only hope you coped with his unintentional hurtful response by bonging a quart of chocolate ice cream.
Yes, yes she may murder you in her sleep. I smell a Lifetime made for TV movie here.
I’ve made bongs out of a lot of unlikely items in my time, but this one sounds like just the kind of challenge I’m up for.
It’s only about a ten hour drive from me to you so ummmm, you’re on!