The other night, I sent The Boyfriend a text to see if he was off work.

B: I’m actually negotiating a price on a truck right now (not his words)

Me: Show him your boobs. Bet the price will drop.

Me: OR! Throw an old fashioned on the table. Guys help each other out all the time.

B: I was actually thinking cash plus a trade.

Me: Well…it’s risky but it might work.

 

Then, one evening last week The Boyfriend sent me this random text:

B: You missed Jersey Shore.

For a second, I couldn’t figure out why he felt the need to tell me that. I’ve never even watched a full episode of that show. Then (because my phone is retarded) an earlier text from him came through asking if I wanted to come over to see it.

Me: Sorry, I just got the message about coming over to watch it.

B: I was messing with you. Jersey Shore, really?

Me: Well you are fond of Keeping up with the Kardashians…

B: I’m over that.

Me: Oh, right. Sorry, Khloe and Lamar.

B: That didn’t help, just got old. At least Paris Hilton’s a self proclaimed ho. Those other girls are under the impression they’re good people.

Me: True…So Paris has a show again? Is it your new favorite?

B: I don’t know. I’m over her, too.

Me: Well what are you going to watch? Real Housewives?

B: Dunno

Me: Maybe Miley Cyrus will get a reality show now that there’s a vid of her smoking pot on the internet.

B: I was hoping Lindsey Lohan would get one.

Me: I’d watch that…Chick’s a total trainwreck. Too bad Britney didn’t have one when she went off the deep end.

Me: That would’ve been quality entertainment.

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