So, I scanned this delicious picture from an Alitalia magazine, and sent it to a few girlfriends who I knew might appreciate it. Next thing I know I get two separate e-mails back, both from women referring to "my boyfriend Clive Owen."
But Clive Owen is my boyfriend! [whining sounds and hand flappings]
Then I tell a woman this story and she whips out her camera and shows me shots of Clive on a red carpet premiere, where the man himself stood about eight feet from her at one point. Turns out Clive Owen's her boyfriend.
[More whining and hand flappings.]
Heyyyyy... what gives?
The whining, hand flapping, and boyfriend talk reminds me of when I was a wee nipper of eight, already incorrigible and romantic: my best friend and I were both deeply in love, as only eight-year-olds can be, with the same little chap from our class. But we also didn't want to not be friends. So we called him on the phone and informed him that he was heretofore our boyfriend and that we would have him on alternate days. I think we decided after much anguish to take Sundays off and let his mother take him off our hands.
So, in the true generous spirit of Mrs. G and her wonderful blog, I am willing to share my boyfriend Clive Owen with the world. There you have it. My gesture of goodwill for all womankind.
But Clive Owen is my boyfriend! [whining sounds and hand flappings]
Then I tell a woman this story and she whips out her camera and shows me shots of Clive on a red carpet premiere, where the man himself stood about eight feet from her at one point. Turns out Clive Owen's her boyfriend.
[More whining and hand flappings.]
Heyyyyy... what gives?
The whining, hand flapping, and boyfriend talk reminds me of when I was a wee nipper of eight, already incorrigible and romantic: my best friend and I were both deeply in love, as only eight-year-olds can be, with the same little chap from our class. But we also didn't want to not be friends. So we called him on the phone and informed him that he was heretofore our boyfriend and that we would have him on alternate days. I think we decided after much anguish to take Sundays off and let his mother take him off our hands.
So, in the true generous spirit of Mrs. G and her wonderful blog, I am willing to share my boyfriend Clive Owen with the world. There you have it. My gesture of goodwill for all womankind.
3 comments:
Sometimes it’s hard to be a woman ...
Wait a minute now...he was definitely MY boyfriend first...I have been in love since "Gosford Park".
That picture is danderous...causes spontaneous swooning. You need some warning signs before bloggers open your page! ;)
Mr. Stainforth - you really want me to start singing? That could get ugly.
Willow - what the ~ !!?? You were his girlfriend first? D'oh!!!!!
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