I went clothes shopping for myself yesterday. This is a very rare occurrence in my life. I still have a shirt that I was given as a hand-me-down in the eighth grade. I still wear it, 18 years later.
When I came home I showed Jesse my purchases.
JESSE: Well, you certainly seem to like a certain style, don’t you.
ME: What do you mean? These shirts are completely different!
JESSE: *snort* If you say so.
So today, as I’m lounging with Karis on the couch, I notice Jesse thumbing through a Victoria’s Secret catalog. He comes over to me and hands me the catalog.
JESSE: Here. I took the liberty of starring the outfits I think look good, to give you an idea of what I think you should be wearing.
I flip through the pages and take note of the outfits draped across the super models. I smile wryly at the 6 ft tall buxom beauties wearing their business casual outfits with just a hint of slut.
ME: Uh… You realize that I wouldn’t look like that in those clothes, right?
JESSE: What do you mean?
ME: I’m not a 6 ft tall super model, and last time I checked, buying clothes from Victoria’s Secret doesn’t automatically increase your bust size.
JESSE: Well it should dammit. *waiving an angry fist to the heavens* Curse you Victoria!