ME: Gracie got a tattoo yesterday.
HIM: Really? Where?
ME: On her thigh.
HIM: One of my co-workers got a tattoo of her boyfriend’s face on her butt.
ME: I’m thinking about getting a tattoo.
HIM: Maybe you should get one of my face on your butt.
ME: No that would be a TERRIBLE idea.
ME: At the rate I’m losing weight, by the end of April it would look like John McCain.
HIM: Whatever… what are you going to do today?
ME: I HAVE to get a haircut I look like a runaway slave.
HIM: Your hair looks fine.
ME It’s too long, makes me look old.
HIM: I wanted to spend this afternoon together.
HIM:But I’m supposed to go volunteer in South Central, the Lifeguards are doing this charity event, feeding the homeless.
ME: Stay here and feed me. You have a hungry negro right here.
HIM: Not the same.
ME: It is to me.
HIM: I should go.. I don’t want to go.. I need a good excuse not to go.
ME: You could say you forgot about it.
HIM: That would be a lie.
ME: Not necessarily. ( I get some vodka, Cointreau, orange liqueur and pomegranate juice)
HIM: Are you making a pomegranate martini?
ME: No, I’m making Milk of Amnesia.
HIM: I’m beginning to appreciate how your mind works.
ME: Why do you look so terrified?
HIM: Did you NOT just hear what I said?