The grave of romance was officially dug up and peed on this weekend when I was informed by my dearest, darling husband (who was, I would very much like to point out, watching Nacho Libre in a hungover stupor whilst attired in a bright red union suit) that "You and Jack Black are like totally the same person. aha ha ha hahahahahahahaha. Wait, I mean, you don't LOOK like him. Oh shit."
According to Mr. Astute Observer, my SoulMate, Mr. Black, and I are both partial to fart sounds, random song singing, too much cursing, falling down frequently, physical buffoonery, and general loud behavior. Oh, and after he read this post, I was reminded to add "butt crackery".
The sad thing is, I can't deny it. DAMMIT. That jackass is totally right. And now I'm mad that the fat guy is famous and I'm not.
Though, that boy should really think twice before mocking me about anything. Seriously.
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