My boyfriend doesn’t like a lot of things. Sometimes I wonder what the FCUK he does like. He doesn’t like beer – it smells. He doesn’t like vinegar – it smells. He doesn’t like plaid or tartan in any shape or form – it’s ugly. He doesn’t like the colour yellow. He doesn’t like gorgonzola because it smells, except when it’s melting on a pizza, of course. (Have you noticed how people can’t stand tomatoes or ham or mushrooms but on a slice of pizza everything goes?) He doesn’t like the sun when it’s shining directly upon his face. According to him, the best time to take a swim in the sea is when it’s just about to rain, not kidding you. Maybe that’s where his ardent hatred towards yellow comes from since the sun is – yellow. Oh, and I mustn’t forget: he also doesn’t like wine – its smells. But the point of this post is that he doesn’t like some of my fashion choices as well. Go figures.
His comment: “That’s something my grandma would wear.” Really? Pair that with some black leather pants, red booties and a parka – you’ve got some stylish grandma right there.
His comment: “That’s something my grandma would wear.” I … have no comment.
His comment: “Are you trying to be Charlie Chaplin or something?” I’m going to charliechaplin you right in your scrotum, you’ll see who’s the man then.
His comment: “That’s ugly.” Eh, he’s just lucky I’m getting it remade into a pair of pants … Although I don’t think he’ll like them any better. “You’re right.”
To be continued … Trust me, there’s more.