Me: I need to write my post.

Him: What? You need to ride my post?

Me: Well, thank you for that.

Him: For what?

Me: For reminding me that I wanted to write about what it’s like to live with a man.

Him: What? Where do you want me to put my hand?

Me: EXACTLY.

_____________________

Me: Are we out of pears?

Him: What’s that you said? A quickie upstairs?

_____________________

Me: Are we getting take-out?

Him: Of course we can make out. Come over here.

_____________________

Me: Give me a second…I just have to ask Ilana a question.

Him: What’s that about your ass?

_____________________

Me: I’m almost ready to go, I just have to put on my face.

Him: What do you want to put on my face?

_____________________

Me: I want to watch that movie. Remember? I can’t remember the name of it. Oh, come on. Remember?

Him: Oh right. I think it’s called Conquest. Jenna Jameson is in it. I remember you saying you wanted to see that.

_____________________

Me: I really, really love my job.

Him: You love blow jobs? That’s so funny…so do I!

_____________________

I cannot make reference to the size of anything or the shape of anything or the, um, hardness of anything without it ending in a “why thank you!” or a “that’s what she said.”

I cannot walk past my husband without fending off an ass grab or a boob grab.

I cannot use the word BALLS without there being some sort of 12-year-old follow-up joke.

I cannot make a reference to the word “behind” without some sort of ass retort.

I cannot imagine it any other way.

Although I could do with fewer tit grabs.

(“What did you say, baby? You need a tit grab?”)