April 29, 2008
The hubby and I enjoyed a rare date night Saturday night. We went to eat, then caught a movie. We had some time to kill in between, and were in the truck headed to the hardware store (how romantic) when my camera phone started clicking in my pocket. The following conversation ensued:
J: What’s that?
Me: My butt taking pictures. I wish I hadn’t forgotten my phone Thursday night………
J: Why, so you could have Bon Jovi in your ass now?
Me: No, so I could’ve taken some pics of Jon with it, and used them for my wallpaper. And for the record, I would let Jon in my ass, or anywhere else he wanted to be, anytime he wanted.
J: Well then, you could just start pretending I was him and let me there.
Me: I do try pretend you’re him, every night, it doesn’t work.
See if he makes me go to Lowe’s on our next date night.
We saw the new flick, “Baby Mama”. It was hilarious. One part in particular cracked both of us up, and it wasn’t really that funny. The movie was set in Philadelphia, and the character’s boyfriend couldn’t take her to the doctor because he was busy trying to win a radio contest who’s grand prize was arena football tickets. J started yelling, “that’s you”. (JBJ owns Philly’s arena football team).