So I was waiting at the bus stop, and along came a rough looking bogan dude and his young son. The kid sees my Iron Man shirt and pulls on my skirt to get my attention.
- KID: "I love Iron Man."
- ME: "Yeah, I love Iron Man too."
- KID: "No, I REALLY love Iron Man."
- DUDE: *rolls his eyes*
- ME: "Iron Man is pretty cool, yeah."
- KID: "I love his beard."
- ME: "... I'm also quite fond of his beard, I must admit."
- DUDE: *raises his eyebrows at me*
- KID: "I want to marry Iron Man."
- ME: "..."
- DUDE: "..."
- ME: "..."
- DUDE: "You can't marry Iron Man, he's with Miss Potts, remember? Pepper?"
- KID: "I don't know why. Girls are icky... no offence."
- ME: "That's okay."
- KID: "I think Black Widow would make a pretty bridesmaid, though."
- DUDE: "Can I marry her?"
- KID: "NO! She's a BLACK WIDOW Dad, she'll eat you! You can marry... Captain America, because he's nice and he's old like you."
- and then the bus came and the kid fist bumped me goodbye, and then so did the kid's dad and he said thanks for not pointing out that you can't marry a fictional character.
Do any of you have any idea how Hannibal would make a souffle?
I would like to include Steven Moffat into the recipe somehow.
Cheers, a Whovian.
just give us his business card and we’ll deal with the rest
- what I say: "Life's just been so busy! Sorry I ( didn't get back to you, flaked on you last minute, pushed off deadlines).
- what I mean: The anxiety got to the point of paralysis. I really did want to do all those things, but I got overwhelmed and fell back on my tried and true coping method: procrastination. I'm sorry.