Dumb

Dumbest thing I heard in a while:

While discussing with one of the women I work with, what movie I’m gonna see with my significant other on our ‘date night,’ her daughter (my age) walks in and gives her two cents:

“Go see August Rush.  It’s the best movie, really good.  Go see it.”

Mentally, my rebuke is this: Oh no.  I date a man.  Like, a real one.  With a penis.  Who watches football and has an opinion.  He wears pants and thinks and talks.  You’re not dating a guy, you’re dating a girl.  I don’t date vagina-having sissy boys.  

Instead I said:  No.  He’d shoot me in the head, then leave my life-less body in the theater while he goes out to restore his masculinity.  With beer and boobs.

I don’t think what I said was any better than what I thought.  Hopefully my boyfriend thanks me for not even entertaining the thought of seeing some horribly romantized chick flick.  I'd rather see a reality-based movie, like Walk Hard.