So on Wednesday evening as we’re watching JDMA again I hit pause, freezing Janice mid screech at an impossibly toned model, turn to the boy I’ve not formally introduced you too yet, and say “Do you think I need plastic surgery?”
And I clock the look. Panic, dread and confusion in a simple furrow of his brow. A look that screams “If I say the wrong thing he’ll leave me / hurt me / hack me into little pieces and store me in the freezer / all of the above”.
“Don’t be stupid. You’re gorgeous”
“It was a stupid question”
“Do I need my nose fixing?”
“Do you think you need it fixing?”
“I’m asking you”
“You’re perfect, you don’t need anything fixing”
3 Comment here (go on I dare you)::
There you go. Start of the classic play/novel plot line: Boy meets girl (or boy). Boy loses boy. Boy gets boy back. Conflicts, obstacles, triumph!
LMFAO neurotic much?
Inexplicably neurotic.
I applaud you for finding a vague sense of structure to any of this.
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