N - ‘I desperately wanted nomnomnom.com.’

J - ‘But it’s taken, right?’

N - ‘Oh yeah.’

J - ‘You could try monmonmon and make a Jamaican themed site instead.’

N looks puzzled.

J - ‘What? I thought it was funny…’

N - ‘What does mon mon mon have to do with gin making?’

J -Jamaican, mon. And this gets written down.’

-
[On a related note, if you decide to try to buy monmonmon.com or any other domain, I have GoDaddy discount codes that are awesome. Use mtech1 for 10% off your domain, or mtech2 for 20% off orders of £25 or more. Don’t say I never gave ya nothin’. ;) ]

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J - ‘Dinner was really good! Thank you for making it tonight.’

N - ‘And do you know what made it so good?’

J - ‘You remembered to put butter and milk in the mashed potatoes?’

N - ‘No… You stayed out of the kitchen and didn’t look over my shoulder.’

J - ‘I liked it better when I thought you had magic ingredients…’

He totally set me up for that one.

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I wander down to the home office at the end of the hall…

J - ‘So, with the new machine, how much coffee to water do you usually use?’

N - ‘Two scoops for five cups.’

I try to make imperceptible my expression of panic.

J - ‘OK.’

I pause and then calmly pad down to the kitchen, careful to not break into a run.

Moments later, Neil slips into the kitchen. Spots me spooning soaked coffee grounds out of the top of the machine. The machine continues to gurgle through its demanding task.

N - ‘How much did you put in?’

I giggle.

J - ‘One to one.’

N - ‘Oh, that’s fine. Just add more water.’

J - ‘I was already making twelve cups…’ *

*Additional funny bit: being unfamiliar with the new coffee maker, I was unaware that I had it set to ’slow filter’ which makes this stuff double strength. I could sell my coffee on street corners…

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After watching an episode of Scrubs, where Turk is referred to as Carla’s Superman…

J- ‘You’re my Superman.’

N- ‘Does that mean I can wear my underpants on the outside?’

Pause…

J- ‘You’re my Aquaman.’

N- ‘What did he do?’

J- ‘Swam around a lot, but you’re much less likely to have the costume for that one.’

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I’m home from work and check my email.

J- “Next week’s Tchibo catalogue is kind of crap.”

N- “Why?”

J- [in a sultry voice-over tone] “The Charm of Christmas. Festive Home and Kitchen Week.”

I scroll through the product pictures.

J- “You can get a cuckoo clock… that’s pretty crap.”
pause to browse
“Ooh! I cheese shaver! … You know, the kind that takes a great big wheel of cheese?”

N- [He sounds disappointed.] “Oh… I thought it was a shaver made of cheese.”

J- “Your mornings would be so much more enjoyable, wouldn’t they…”

Note: this household has an unhealthy love for cheese. One of our fond holiday memories of our time in Malta was the totally awesome cheese board we ordered in the posh coffee bar at the hotel. Mmmm…

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Neil’s been in high gear with a work project today and communication between teams through conference calls has been, erm, frustrating at times. After the last swarm of calls, my beautifully wound-up fella says:

blah blah blah…[the beginning part isn’t important]…We’re not a third world country!”

“You’re not? Y’all don’t have Taco Bell though, do ya.”

My Americanness is undeniably powerful at times. Kinda like being a Jedi, only with spicy burritos instead of deadly light sabres. (The deadly part of a spicy burrito is subtle and not realised until hours later…)

Fortunately, the above mentioned work chaos is finding its order and we’ve got tickets to an art exhibition in London tonight. I think it’s a given that we will make time in our travels for him to have a great big, well-earned pint of Guinness. :)

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Heard this morning just after his shower:

N: “Do you intentionally wash only one sock per pair?”

I figure this is what he gets for having so many different colours and styles… and not doing the laundry himself. ;)

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We closed Neil’s birthday with a pizza, popcorn, and movie at home. In preparation for the evening, I put on some REALLY comfy clothes. Neil could hardly contain his arousal at my outfit:

“You look homeless.”

Here is the proof— it’s not a flattering picture or outfit, but I offer the visual for your amusement.
What you can’t see is the super-hot black latex corset beneath the dribbled on and holey t-shirt. Really.

Honk if you think I'm sexy.

Actually, not really.

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