Thursday, March 22, 2012

The Price of Admission

Before I share this video, a few caveats:

Do you know Dan Savage?  If not, click here.  I'm most familiar with him as a liberal, gay, sex-advice columnist.  (And a damn good one).  He's also an author, a husband, a father, etc etc.

I read his weekly column, and I find it both entertaining and just darn good (even if it makes me blush most every single week).

Anyway, the below is a selection from an old Q&A, wherein he talks about "The Price of Admission".  There's an f-bomb or five, and the content is definitely adult.  So, if you can't handle that, don't watch it.  (Duh).

Anyway:



You know what I was thinking of the whole time I watched this?

Dish towels.  &$@%ing dish towels.

No two words in the English language have caused as much friction since, I dunno, Saddam Hussein or Adolf Hitler.  I'd estimate that over 90% of the cuss words that Scott and I have hurled at each other over the past 10 months have originated because of our &$A%ing kitchen dish towels.  Why?  He folds them wrong.  (The other possibility is that I fold them wrong, but that's unlikely).

Anyway, the Price of Admission.  Yes.  This.  Maybe it's time for me to look at the kitchen dish towels, or the way he loads the dishwasher as my price of admission.  It's most certainly not a dealbreaker, we're not going to break-up over them, so why let it drive me so crazy.  Maybe the price of admission to my relationship is ignoring the dishtowels and instead, thanking my lucky stars that I found someone that can rile me up so completely.

(Over dishtowels).

No comments:

Post a Comment

I've turned word verification on because of spam comments. Apologies! I love your comments!