Neil yelped when he opened one of his emails this morning, so, naturally, I had to look over his shoulder at what he was seeing.

There, on the screen, was a picture of a busty naked blonde woman who appeared to be eating a piece of banana out of the hand of a naked brunette woman. Both were standing in a kitchen, and both looked pretty fake.

And the brunette had a set of the biggest, fakest, ugliest breasts... They were truly scary.

I said: "It looks like she was walking through the kitchen, and she accidentally cut herself pretty badly on her chest... and then slipped and fell on a mixing bowl. Two mixing bowls. And then had it stitched up."

Neil gave me the most disgusted look I have seen on his face in days.

I pranced into the kitchen, grabbed a huge red mixing bowl, and held it against my chest. "You see? Like this! Only, two of them!"

Neil looked a little bit nauseous.

I respectfully waited a few moments before carrying on.

"You know... I thought of a good title for that email!" I said.

Neil cringed, but I could see the curiosity anyway. If Neil were a character in a tragic play, his downfall would be his rampant curiosity.

"It should have been called, 'A kitchen's place is in a woman!'" I said.

I'm pretty sure my beloved boyfriend groaned. If he didn't actually groan out loud, the expression on his face surely meant the same thing.

I have been gifted with the ability NOT to picture some of the nasty, gross crap I talk about on a regular basis. Such as women falling on mixing bowls. Neil, evidently, does not have that gift.

I ALMOST feel a little bit bad exploiting that weakness. My love, I'm ALMOST sorry. I wish I was sorry. I almost am. Almost.

But not quite.

Heh! A kitchen's place is in a woman...

Ew.

~Helena*