I’m constantly reminded of the ways in which life is just like middle school, but the boys are taller and the girls less openly cruel. I myself often behave like an overgrown thirteen year old.
Here are some of the many ways:
1. No matter how serious a conversation I’m having with Taketoshi, at some point, I have to insinuate that he’s making some reference to sex. For instance, he might say “Do I have to bring out Gertrude Stein again?” and I say “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Or he says something about rubbing Mrs. Wigglebottom’s belly and I say “Well, I bow to your superior knowledge of kinky sex acts…”
Really, America, there is no need for me to do that, except that it makes me laugh because I have the emotional maturity of an eighth grader and when faced with a smart, kind, well-spoken person, I feel compelled to make sex jokes to see if I can embarrass him.
2. Often, when reading Adam Ash (link is super for real not work safe), it’s all I can do to not write in the comments “Real Nude Thoughts: I hope this fucker doesn’t try to pay me with a check. I hope the babysitter won’t mind that I’m going to be a little late tomorrow. I wonder if I remembered to turn the stove off. How long does it take to adjust a light anyway? I hope Natalie remembers to send me that email address. Yeah, I’d do a Tera Patrick film, just for the side benefits.”
3. I woke the Butcher up this morning just to ask him if I was as scary as the rest of the family. He smartly said “no” at which point, I wandered off to take a shower, which I needed, because whoa boy did I stink!