What you are about to see is so terrifying that I can’t even post it on the home page. It’s really really really gross.
It isn’t food…
And it isn’t nudity…
And it has NOTHING to do with premarital sex…
It’s my boyfriend. Putting on a Tuaca shirt that I received at a bar. This particular shirt is a women’s small.
I just don’t….get it. This is how it started:
Lindsay: hey, look at the shirt I got when I was playing trivia with the boys!
Jay: nice, I’m putting it on!
Lindsay: No, wait! You’ll stretch it out! Nevermind, let me get my camera.
Once the shirt was on, of course, air-piano to the soundtrack of Aida was a must. With pants pulled up to belly button.
Listen, I don’t want to hear anything about how my taste in music stinks. If I have to bear witness to this….monstrosity….I get to listen to broadway as much as I want. It’s my house, anyways. Do you believe me now when I say there’s no hanky panky happenin’ in this relationship?
After this silliness ensued Jay was stuck in the shirt. I had to help him wriggle out of it while he squealed like a little girl that he couldn’t breathe. I am now accepting applications for a new boyfriend.