This is a typical day of text messages between The Scotsman and me. Witness the hilarity.
The Scotsman: I feel sick.
Me: Oh no! Do you have a cold?
The Scotsman: I was walking Riley and she hit me in the jimbobs with her rope toy.
Me: Oh dear.
The Scotsman: The pain is indescribable.
Me: Poor jimbobs. Bad doggie!
The Scotsman: STOP LAUGHING.
Me: I'm not laughing!
Phone: *RING*
Me: Hello?
The Scotsman: STOP LAUGHING.
Me: (laughing) I'm not laughing! From what I've gleaned from the men I know, it's not fun to be hit in the...in the....
The Scotsman: YOU'RE LAUGHING.
Me: In the...jimbobs. (explodes laughing)
The Scotsman: Very nice. You're very kind.
Me: I've just...never heard that TERM before. Is that a Southern thing?
The Scotsman: It's a MAN thing, you blue bellied, lily-livered Yankee!
Me: That's why I like being a girl. No dangly bits.
***
*text message from The Scotsman*
The Scotsman: Riley headbutted me.
Me: oh no.
The Scotsman: IN THE JIMBOBS.
Me: DUDE. What is with your DOG?
The Scotsman: I'm going to have to start wearing a cup when I walk her.
Me: And you get on MY case about wearing protective equipment around the house.
***
*text message from The Scotsman*
The Scotsman: There's been entirely too much jimbobbery going on around here.
Me: I concur.
The Scotsman: You like that word too much, methinks.
Me: I am quite fond of it, yes.
The Scotsman: You've been pondering jimbobbery.
Me: Jimbobbery has crossed my mind.
The Scotsman: Blog it. :)
Me: Be careful what you wish for, you just may get it.
The Scotsman: What? Whooooo, meeeeee?
*Miss Banshee runs to computer, type type type*
Sigh. Well, I warned him, didn't I, faithful readers? Never dare a blogger.
Riley sez: I can haz jimbobs?
