Tuesday, April 4, 2006

I'm Frightened. Please - Hold Me...

While my bestest bud, Tiffany and I were downstairs engaging in the delights of "Smallville" and multiple yummy-nummy James Marsters' Harry retreated (as men often do when too much estrogen presents itself) to the bedroom. 

I figured he was napping or watching sportscenter, but as I entered the bedroom, flinging open the door with a flourish in order to have a clear path to which I may launch myself, flying squirrel-like, towards his sleeping form, I stopped dead in my tracks.

He was reading.

And it wasn't Playboy, or Toyfare, or even Corvette Weekly - it was a hardback book.  Clive Cussler.  No pictures.

I'm still in shock.

He's even borrowed my "Iddy Biddy Booklight."

If this is a case of the Invasion of the Body Snatchers - I'm not sure I mind all that much...

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