Quote:
Originally Posted by Extra Point
Two dozen roses for her at work, one for each year I didn't send her flowers at work. When she has to tell me that she wants flowers at work, over the course of this past week, I can't say that she doesn't mean anything else but, "Love you. Do it. Or I'll find creative ways to make your life Hell for at least two weeks."
Win-win. She gets to show her co-workers, who have been getting roses for years, that she's not married to a reerun. I keep a healthy chunk of my ass intact.
It's not a Holiday: it's a guilt bank for women.
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Flowers are such a waste of money. sure glad my wife agrees with that sentiment.
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My dear girl, there are some things that just aren’t done. Such as, drinking Dom Perignon ’53 above the temperature of 38 degrees Fahrenheit. That’s just as bad as listening to the Beatles without earmuffs.
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