507-Whipped

Not that this has ever happened to me, but I thought I would pass it on. On this site I don’t pass on the usual Internet drivel, but this was too important. I know this is a fake magazine cover sent to me by my former New Hampshire neighbor Bobbo, but Bobbo and I excelled in the practice of the devolution of the words “Yes Dear” that should be the motto for this publication. Bobbo and I never had any legitimate reason to ever bitch or whine at our spouses, but after tooooooooo many nutritional supplements we would always embark on our journey down the road of the Cro-Magnon spineless husk. Whenever we were asked to do something, we would both chime in together “Yes Dear” and then again, and again, and again, each time getting less intelligible until after about eight times “Yes Dear”  would devolve into a single almost silent grunt. Together we would hang our heads and shoulders and Bobbo would ask, “Did you see someone just yank out my spine?” We would laugh out asses off and then look for another nutritional supplement. Go Bobbo Go!!!  And yes, I really have a “Yes Dear” shirt. I wore it in the New York Marathon a few years ago and was constantly stopped by groups of women wanting to know where I got it.

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