JM on Jealousy
I screwed up on this over the weekend (too long for Shumway)
Posted on September 20, 2005 at 02:49:32 PM by Joe Mama
Yes, Mrs. Mama knows I actively check women out. She'll comment on chicks often. I try not to actually mention a chick unless, say, her fake boobs are so cartoonish I point them out so we can chuckle. She accepts that I am a man - with eyes.
However, I managed to piss her off this weekend. We had brunch with my mom and in the middle of it, a STUNNING chick walked in - I'm talking *perfect*. No joke. A legit 9.5 - as rare as the unicorn. Anyhow, she sat right behind me so I only checked her out a bit while she came in. She was with a doofus of a guy - tall and gangly and simply not worthy - a bit like me to be honest, only much younger and blonde. 'Cept unlike me, this cat was wearing the worst tear-away pants I've ever seen. Also, his hair was really, really bad. Now, he might have been the nicest (and richest) guy on Earth but from a strictly shallow perspective, which is where I often dwell, that cat is out of his league. She was a fucking knockout and I was almost tearing up at her magnificence. No jokes here.
Anyhow, after brunch, the wife and I are at a bank machine and Mrs. Mama says "What did you think of the Pam Anderson look-a-like?" and I replied "I've got no idea what you're talking about". She smiled and asked if I thought she was hot and I said yes, of course, she was a mega-fox but unlike Pam she had brown hair. Mrs. Mama kept on her, so we talked a bit about her lips – fake or not?
Then I fucked up - I mentioned the doofus looking cat that has the pleasure of pinning her tanned knees behind her flawless little earlobes. It was something to the effect of "That goofy cat better get a rock on her finger now because he will never, ever, ever get a set of tits like those in his mouth again. Ever." and she took that to mean I was jealous.
Well, on some level, no shit. That is the dictionary definition of "doy". But I mean, c'mon, WTF? She was legitimately pissed that I was jealous of him. I tried in vain to express that I wasn't *jealous*, I just think he's a fucking lottery winner and I hope he knows it. If I wanted to tag her, I'd try. But I'm not trying, so let us move on, no?
Anyhow, it took a solid hour for her to get all the pissyness out of her system.
But here is the thing – if I saw some Brad Pitt looking guy with a six on his arm, I'd say the same damn thing. That doesn't mean I want to bang him. And if Mrs. Mama said it to me, I'd look her in the eye and say "You g-ddamn right baby – she must give up the balloon knot or be the heir to a fortune or something".
Anyhow, my vow is to never discuss bush with the wife again. Even if she brings it up, like she did this weekend. I'm just gonna smile and nod and not say a damn thing that can and will be held against me.
Posted on September 20, 2005 at 02:49:32 PM by Joe Mama
Yes, Mrs. Mama knows I actively check women out. She'll comment on chicks often. I try not to actually mention a chick unless, say, her fake boobs are so cartoonish I point them out so we can chuckle. She accepts that I am a man - with eyes.
However, I managed to piss her off this weekend. We had brunch with my mom and in the middle of it, a STUNNING chick walked in - I'm talking *perfect*. No joke. A legit 9.5 - as rare as the unicorn. Anyhow, she sat right behind me so I only checked her out a bit while she came in. She was with a doofus of a guy - tall and gangly and simply not worthy - a bit like me to be honest, only much younger and blonde. 'Cept unlike me, this cat was wearing the worst tear-away pants I've ever seen. Also, his hair was really, really bad. Now, he might have been the nicest (and richest) guy on Earth but from a strictly shallow perspective, which is where I often dwell, that cat is out of his league. She was a fucking knockout and I was almost tearing up at her magnificence. No jokes here.
Anyhow, after brunch, the wife and I are at a bank machine and Mrs. Mama says "What did you think of the Pam Anderson look-a-like?" and I replied "I've got no idea what you're talking about". She smiled and asked if I thought she was hot and I said yes, of course, she was a mega-fox but unlike Pam she had brown hair. Mrs. Mama kept on her, so we talked a bit about her lips – fake or not?
Then I fucked up - I mentioned the doofus looking cat that has the pleasure of pinning her tanned knees behind her flawless little earlobes. It was something to the effect of "That goofy cat better get a rock on her finger now because he will never, ever, ever get a set of tits like those in his mouth again. Ever." and she took that to mean I was jealous.
Well, on some level, no shit. That is the dictionary definition of "doy". But I mean, c'mon, WTF? She was legitimately pissed that I was jealous of him. I tried in vain to express that I wasn't *jealous*, I just think he's a fucking lottery winner and I hope he knows it. If I wanted to tag her, I'd try. But I'm not trying, so let us move on, no?
Anyhow, it took a solid hour for her to get all the pissyness out of her system.
But here is the thing – if I saw some Brad Pitt looking guy with a six on his arm, I'd say the same damn thing. That doesn't mean I want to bang him. And if Mrs. Mama said it to me, I'd look her in the eye and say "You g-ddamn right baby – she must give up the balloon knot or be the heir to a fortune or something".
Anyhow, my vow is to never discuss bush with the wife again. Even if she brings it up, like she did this weekend. I'm just gonna smile and nod and not say a damn thing that can and will be held against me.


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