This is so, so wrong in so, so many ways. (Sock knitting pattern via F.)
Him: Not only did you knit me these terribly socks, you’re now forcing me to be photographed in them. I’m going to kill you. I’m going to blow your head off with my rifle. At point-blank range. Which is why I don’t need the telescopic sight. So it doesn’t matter that it’s upside down.
Her: Oh don’t be so ungrateful. And stop yapping, can’t you see I’m having sex with the dog? His horn’s bigger than the one under my arm.
And on a completely unrelated subject we move to the real smell of teen spirit.
That, I am shocked to discover, is a genuine TV advert. It is for a product called Dark Temptation.
Soon after I awoke this morning it was apparent that not just the teenager’s pits (and no doubt every square inch of his body) but the entire house – every single room, even those with closed doors including my bedroom – reeked of “chocolate effect”. (He even refuses to wash his hair with shampoo using instead the similarly branded shower gel because “it smells better”.)
I have retaliated with WD40 and the house is now delicately scented with “essence of lube”, but I can’t oil my bike in the hall every day.
How long does this phase last? does anyone know?