the one with a signal

Last week I worked a lot. I mean a lot. In fact I missed an opening of an art show that I had a piece in because I was working. More on that show tomorrow because today I give you another peek into my marriage. Okay it probably says more about me then my marriage. Although honestly she married me so perhaps it really says something about her.

I don’t know. What’s that old saying sometimes a conversation is just a cigar?

What?

Read on at your own risk.

We were talking about important things.

The Government shutdown
paying bills
who was going to make the coffee.
I don’t eggs or something what do I look like memory guy.

The point is we were having a conversation. At the very least it was a semi intelligent one with words and such. As we chatted as married couples tend to the wifebot subtlety looked down at her boobs.

So I grabbed her boobs. I’m pretty sure she screamed. More than likely it was because of the electricity of my touch.

Her: You just grabbed my boobs.
Me: You totally gave me the signal.
Her: What signal?
Me: The “I want you to grab my boobs” signal.
Her:  I didn’t.
Me: You did! You looked down like “grab my boobs” that was the signal.
Her: That isn’t a signal.

It totally is.

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