Last night, E.S. and I had the following conversation:
FAUSTUS (after E.S. has impugned his cleaning skills): You’re an asshole.
E.S.: You’re an asshole.
FAUSTUS: I am not.
E.S.: I am not.
FAUSTUS: Hmph.
E.S.: Hmph.
FAUSTUS: Stop copying me.
E.S.: Stop copying me.
FAUSTUS: Faustus is a gorgeous, brilliant genius.
E.S.: Faustus is a poopyhead.
(Pause.)
FAUSTUS: You’re an asshole.
Then we had sex.
With make up sex after even relatively benign interactions such as this, you must have a difficult time getting out of the house. Is that what you have been doing this week instead of blogging?
growing older, growing wiser they say…
If I called you an asshole…
Did you stay up afterwards and talk about your feelings?
I’m usually left feeling envious of the witty repartee you two share, but not today. Thanks!
Boy are you two in a rut.
This post made me laugh out loud. Thanks!
Good grief, is sex the answer to everything?
Wait, never mind. Of course it is.
Glad to see it is Situation Normal over at Palais Faustusberg
Whoa, get a load of the tits on that chick.
That exchange could have been us, right to the use of the sophisticated term “poopyhead.”
The best part, of course, is that it ended with sex! 🙂
Awwww… sweet love!
Wow. That argument can be set to the tune of “Frère Jacques” almost perfectly. You’re brilliant!
HI there, we have almost the same blog title….hee hee
Ha. Now tell us more about what a bad little cleaner you are.
This is brilliant! LOL