I had a best friend called Silver, and once I came home earlier only to find Silver in bed with my husband, who could only muster the words “How ironic” and a smile, before i furiously left, not allowing them to see me in tears. Now, while I am whipping the blood of my husbands bashed head and all is settling, i realize the irony – he used to call me his Gold.
I was devouring that box of yogurt like a mad man when in the rear distance I heard a woman’s voice crying. After I finished all the yogurt her sound was clearer saying: “It’s a hand cream, not yogurt!!!”
Rachel couldn’t stand the sound of her husband’s snoring every night, and even worse the questions he asked each time she would tell him about it; “Does it sound like this?” he would ask. Months later they adopted a dog, Morty, and Morty snored eactly like Rachel’s husband – “There you go, it sounds just like that!”
I asked my last remaining best friend to stay the night because there’s a murderer at large who’s already killed three of our best buddies.
“The killings would stop after this”, my best friend said consolingly just as I started violently convulsing after downing my bedtime milk, “You’re the last on the list after all.”
Knowing my crazy-ex girlfriend was visiting her folks in town this weekend, I decided to get away and crash at my buddy’s country home for a few days until she left. I got there and was having a great time with my group of guys, until my ex arrived and addressed my buddy as “darling.”