I was hoping he’d give me more advice on breastfeeding so I could make good on my threats. Unfortunately for my entertainment and revenge needs, he was smart enough to back down after he realized what he was saying and who he was saying it to.
Kalhoun, it’s okay - he apologized to the breastages, too. I think it was the unholy shriek of pain I let out when I got into the shower facing the spray that convinced him that, no, they really did hurt. 
And, ehm, you don’t think you could get a camera in the room, eh? In case there is ever an encore…
Hey, if at least he asks, it’s more than the entitled folks in my life do!
We actualy had an argument about Angelina Jolie once. I think Jolie is, at best, okay looking; she’s never struck me as sexy. One night we were doing the “you can sleep with this celebrity without it being cheating” bit and she didn’t believe me when I declined to add Jolie to my list.
Incidentally, there ws a baseball player whose name I don’t know on her list. She used to go to watch him at spring training, and each year she went she told me, in all seriousness, that if she had the opportunity to fuck him, she would, so I could either tell her not to go or accept that she was going to fuck him if given the chance, but not both.
Out of curiosity, who started that game? Going into that type of territory sounds awfully risky.
I’m sure neither one of us started it. It’s older than that relationship which began in '94 or so.
That game doesn’t strike me as especially dangerous. It’s just fantasy. I mean, it’s not like either of us were going to fly to New Zealand to fuck Renee O’Connor, for instance. Her going to the spring training camp with the hope of doing the pitcher guy strikes me as more perilous. But most of the wrongdoing committed in that relationship was on my part, not hers.
I just nabbed the second movie actress who came to mind. My first thought was the woman who played Willow on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but that would have been nonsensical in context as she’s fairly small-bosomed for a modern actress.
Alyson Hannigan, the actress to whom you refer, was on BOTH our lists (her list was mostly female, except for the aforementioned baseball player whose name I don’t know and Avery Brooks). That’s part of why her big-boob thing was, well, crazy. She knew what sort of woman I ogled, and they’re generally sylphlike. I can recall specifically dissing Charisma Carpenter at the time for having too large a chest for my taste.
Good God, are you married to my husband? He had the classic 50’s mother: stay-at-home mom, tiny little post WWII crackerbox linoleum-lined home, kept it all spotless and hospital-sanitary due to insane nonstop scrubbing. He grew up thinking that this was the normal way to pursue housekeeping, and after twenty years of marriage is only just getting a clue that always telling me that I’m doing it wrong is why I glare daggers at him.
You know what I do when I have time off alone? Housework. Because it’s a joy to do it when no one is constantly nitpicking me about it.
On a cross country drive we once got into such a big blow up about how to put something in a FedEx box that 11 years later we still agree that it is best we not return to Denver.
Another time we were running a couple minutes late for dinner with friends. Had to stop for gas and she decided this was the time to put air in the tires. I decided that would be the greatest affront to humanity ever. We drove past that gas station again for the first time in 8 years and almost started it up again.
On another road trip we were traveling on a budget but without reservations since we didn’t know where we’d be at the end of any given day. Looked like snow we decided on cheap motel room. Drove an extra 100 miles arguing about who exactly would go inside to ask how much the room was.
But for the most part our big arguments now are almost by definition about stupid stuff. We’re aware of each other enough that truly important things we see coming and deal with before they explode. So what it takes is an unresolved issue approaching that point but a the seed crystal of something stupid that can morph into something bigger.
Two things we do that frequently work is that “Give up the process or do it yourself” said early enough shuts up the other without any escalation. The other is (this is stolen from a story we heard on This American Life and is silly enough that one of us saying it cools any heat developing and actually frequently resolves the issue. That is, if we both have an answer but can’t agree is to say “I want this X much” and she says “I want this Y much.” Whoever says the higher number wins.
I had the biggest :dubious: reaction to this, until I googled and found that this is a different guy than Avery Schreiber (from the old Doritos ad).
That name meant nothing to me, so I went to Google Images.
Youll pay. Oh, how you’ll pay. You and Goliath and Demonoa the rest of your wretched ilk.
sheepishly I do that to her sometimes…
Well, OK, not exactly that. I occasionaly tell her “no, you can’t order that, because that’s what you’ve always ordered here. Pick at least *one *different item” But… but she’s like a child who says “I don’t like that” before she’s even had a bite, I swear ! I feel like I’m my mother every time we go to the restaurant !
The most Hulk-worthy item has to be sushi. We’ve been going out with each other for 8 years, living together for about 6. Over those 6 years, we’ve had Japanese take-out/dinner at least once a month. She never ordered anything with raw fish in it, nor did she taste any when offered. Beef/chicken skewers, period.
Lately, she’s been playing a Japanese video game that features (among lots of other things) Japanese teenagers dating, eating together, and enjoying what they eat. This prompted her to nick a sushi off my tray during our next Jap food foray.
She had the gall to say “Hey, now I know what they’re so chipper about, this is *really *good !”. …
…
Aneurysm.
…
Thanks for the vote of confidence, dear. You see, as you knew, I only ate them for years because I have rotten taste, and as part of an elaborate practical joke to get you to eat the yucky. However, I’m happy to know imaginary people in a video game eat sushi because sushi’s tasty. Really, I am. I’ll be outside shooting myself in the head, don’t wait for me.
(to be 100% fair, I’m as unadventurous in the realms of music and TV series as she is in the realm of food. But… but it’s not the same thing ! :D)
We usually go on three vacations a year, a weekend alone up north, a weekA over Christmas break with the kids somewhere warm, and two weeks over spring break to somewhere exotic. It’s the exotic vacation that we tend to have on blow up that’s based on something really, really stupid.
China: After a week in Beijing, we flew down to Shanghai. Upon checking in to our new hotel, it turns out that the floor of the rooms we were going to be put into had the hallways painted. We fought over who would wait for the bellhop who took our bags in a separate elevator up to the floor. We kept arguing when the non-English speaking bellhop got to the floor and tried to get our attention that we were on the wrong floor.
Egypt: A week into our trip and we check into the gorgeous Old Cataract Hotel in Aswan. This is where Agatha Christie wrote “Death on the Nile”. It’s almost noon local time and we’re all hungry after eating two disappointing train meals in a row. The concierge gives us the name of a great restaurant in town, into a taxi we go and we’re shown a table. My SO disappeared into a tour of the kitchen while we waited at the table with menus because he wanted to know what food was being cooked. After ten minutes, I walked over to the kitchen and asked him to come sit down and order. My tone was not of the most polite and a minor skirmish ensued. We ate and then he went back to the hotel while I went solo to visit the dam and Temple of Philae.
India: Day 9 of the trip (notice the pattern?). We decide to head from Bikaner to the town of Deshnok to visit the Karni Mata Temple. If you’re not familiar, check out the video. We take off our shoes and socks and wander around the sticky floors covered in urine and feces and scream and laugh and scream some more. Let’s just say that take my advice and be smart about it. Bring a bottle of Purel, some wet naps, and maybe a bucket of soapy water and steel wool to scrub your feet clean. Since we had none of those things, we loaded back up in our car and felt gross. We also felt hungry which started a big argument about whether we were going to put our shoes on and go into the modern grocery store in Bikaner get food, and head back to the hotel…OR go to the hotel, clean up, then go back to the grocery store, get food, and then head back to the hotel. I had no problem putting socks on and going into the store, but he wanted to go too but didn’t want to put his socks on over the debris on our feet. So, after a lot of back and forth arguing, our driver finally interrupted us and reminded us that we’re in India and we don’t have to wear shoes into the grocery store.:smack:
I’m not too sure I’d want to have photographic evidence of that fight… considering I essentially lost that one.
True, at least he asks. But you must understand, there IS ONLY ONE ACCEPTABLE ANSWER (“No”, “Bite me, love of my life!” or various colourful expletives in several languages relating to impossibly large objects being improbably slotted into certain orifices are met with a cheerful grin and the request. Again. Lather, rinse and repeat).
I clicked on your link and my computer got hijacked in a major way. I’m on my laptop now, and the computer downstairs is being de-bugged right now. Not cool. I’ve been working on it for a couple of hours now.
Sorry 'bout that. I had no problem with it at all.
My husband does not drive.
Oh, he did once, he got his license 20ish years ago. The last time he drove was the day he was awarded his licence. He prefers public transport. It works for him really well.
I drive. I’ve had a licence since I was about 15, my current age begins with a 4, I’ve driven all over the US, in San Francisco, New York, Chicago and LA. I learned to drive on the other side of the road in another country - I’ve had a drivers license in two countries! I’ve been driving, as you can see, more than half my life. I have some experience with driving.
Our stupidest argument (its one argument, that begins when we enter a car he’s riding in and I’m driving and ends when we get out, only to begin next time) goes something like this:
Him: Should you be in that lane?
Me: Yes, I’m going to turn soon.
Him: Are you sure? I don’t think you should be in that lane. Also, you’re going too fast and you need to watch out for that other driver.
Me: Honey, that other driver is blocks away and I’m going the speed limit.
Him: Ok. Are you sure you need to be in this lane? Also, watch out for that other driver!
Me: seethe
Him: Turn here! Turn HERE TURN HERE TURN HERE TURN HERE!
Me: I will. When we get there. In about six blocks or so.
Him: Watch OUT FOR THE OTHER CAR! OMG WE ARE GOING TO CRASH AND BURN TO DEATH AND DIE AN TURN HERE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT’S HOLY TURN NOW NOW NOW!!
Me: I have to kill you. It will make me sad. Not sad enough to not do it. SO STOP TELLING ME HOW TO DRIVE OR LEARN TO DO IT YOURSELF!
Him: I know how to drive, I had my license!!
ARGH!!!
Bear in mind this is pretty much our only argument, and I love him beyond all reason. But I swear, I cringe every time we get in a car together.
Not only was it the stupidest argument I ever had with a girlfriend before or since, but my being proved right triggered a series of events that resulted in our breaking up less than a week later.
The topic: whether or not 3 year olds are old enough to play organized tee ball.
ha - you just described my wife. Except she does have a license and drives regularly but still asks me to drive mostly
But that’s just it - the “other” dish will be something that I’ve already tasted before.
her: eat that, you like it more.
Me: uhhmmm… I don’t feel like it today I want this.
Her: NO eat that - its better
Me: uhmm - ok