Early this morning, I was finishing the Dan Brown novel Angels & Demons and George was flipping through the channels trying to find something to watch. Once I finished the book I came back to reality and looked up to see what he was watching and it was...cartoons. He was watching the old super-hero cartoons that have a dozen different super-hero characters all fighting evil as a team. I giggled a little and I was delivered a snotty "Shut UP" look, so I did.
Well...for a few minutes anyway. No WAY I could stay quiet through that. I had to have a discussion with my husband. We didn't look at each other while talking...just kept watching the show while the following occurred:
Gracie: "Sweetie?"
George: "Mm-hmm?"
Gracie: "...do you think super-heroes fart?"
George: *puts on pained 'heeeeere we go' look* "Sigh. NO."
Gracie: "You know...like sometimes they're getting ready to fly off and push a little too hard and one just...escapes during lift-off..."
George: *Refuses to dignify Gracie's desecration of his beloved Marvel comic show*
Gracie: ....
George: ....
Gracie: "Think they're ever late?"
George: "...late to what?"
Gracie: "I dunno...a...Civilian Saving Incident?"
George: "WHY would they be LATE?" *he will soon regret this question....*
Gracie: "'Cause maybe last night's burritos and queso were just a little...you know...rough on the exit?"
George: *Blinks rapidly and says nothing*
Gracie: "...and maybe he has to call in sick...and, you know, have the Super-Hero Switchboard call for a temp to fill in for him until he can get off the pot and his ass is a little less...on fire?"
George: "There is something SERIOUSLY wrong with you."
Gracie: "Nuh-uh"
George: "No, there is. There really really is."
Gracie: "It's a reasonable question!"
George: "It is NOT"
Gracie: "Oh what, super-heroes don't poop??"
George: "No."
Gracie: *folds arms and mutters* "do TOO!"
George quietly goes back to watching the show, hoping that his silence will be contagious. An action scene then comes on with much fanfare and horrific background music. Gracie begins dancing in her seat to the melodious porn-like sounds and says, mid-wiggle, to George "Dude! THIS should've been our first dance song at our reception!!" and he smiled, nodded with a look of total agreement and then...we couch-jigged together, complete with thumbing, much like Travolta + crew in Saturday Night Fever.
I'm so lucky I married a retard like me.
So we're watching a marathon of non-farting, non-pooping super-hero cartoons and I notice a couple of Female Crime Fighters. They're quite difficult to ignore, actually, seeing as how their outfits are painted on. George disagreed, informing me that it was, in fact, Spandex. The scene was now focusing on one of the women (whose name I do not know) and I was appalled to see that her Spandex was firmly ensconced right up her ASS. Bad enough that the boobs were perkier than any breasts in the world (real ones anyway) but to have her CRACK displayed? and OUTLINED? On a KIDS show?? Geez.
I asked George if, when he watched these cartoons as a kid, he ever noticed the porn-like drawings and ass-outlines....
George: "of COURSE."
Gracie: "So you watched the women's CRACKS?"
George: "DUH. Super-hero chicks're HOT."
Gracie: "GOD."
We went on watching...in silence for the most part. But...as usual...Gracie just couldn't stop. A shot of four super-heroes --including Spiderman-- appeared and they were all discussing a Very Bad Guy. I was quite interested in Spidey and how he talked through his mask, which had no discernible mesh-like fabric or breathing holes...nothing.
Gracie: "Think he ever gets face rashes or...pimples?"
George: "WHAT??"
Gracie: "'Cause of the closed mask 'n all. You know...SWEAT?"
George: *says in a much-offended tone and with a look declaring that I = Retard* "No! They. are. SUPER. HEROES!" and he spits this last part, disgusted at my rudeness, "They don't get RASHES."
Gracie: "Huh"
George: "Tch"
Gracie: "So...no chafing either?"
George: *Rolls eyes* "NO!!!!!"
Gracie: "The spidey web pattern on his inner thighs never fades due to rubbing together while running after Very Bad Dudes in Need of Ass-Whupping?"
George: "of COURSE not!"
Gracie: "Huh"
George: *Goes back to watching his show and happily ignores wife's mumbling*
Gracie: "..."
George: "..."
Gracie: "...So I guess no ball sweat, then, huh?"
George: "Get out"
Gracie: "whaaaaaaa-uhhhht??"
George: "OUT!"
