Wife: I was doing laundry and found a speeding ticket in your pocket.
Wife: When did you get it?
Husband: On my way to the airport.
Wife: Why didn't you tell me about it?
Husband: Because...I didn't want to.
Wife: It was in my car. And I pay our insurance. Don't you think I have a right to know?
Husband: Was there a more important reason you called me? Or is this it?
Wife: This is it.
End of call. End of play. End of marriage (just kidding)
On the topic of marriage, I was saddened to learn of Brittany and Kevin Federline's divorce. Or for you US and People magazine readers, Brit and K-Fed, yo, calling it quits, beeeotch!
I realize that their announcement might have been overlooked because of the so-called election hype. But I believe that nothing is more important than the break-up of pop icons Brit and K-fed; even the democrats winning the House and Senate, or Don Rumsfeld forced to resign - no, no, the end of this marriage will be remembered as the most tragic event ever to occur in the history of the US, if not the world.
It came as a total shock to me, as I'm sure it did for you. And I will never forget where I was, and what I was doing when I learned of their parting. They were an inspiration of love and morality, ideal parents to their boys, hiphop Sean to the Preston, and Jayden-yo-yo-just a newbie boyeeee, proving that yes, you can get pregnant while breastfeeding your 2-month-old baby if you are married to an insensitive dork who still wears his hat backwards, pants around the knees, rapping about the grave injustice of being a rich white kid married to the luckiest nontalent millionaire in the world.
They were our moral compass, and proof that the sanctity of marriage is alive and well. It is a sad, sad day when we have to look to our own families and belief systems to define what marriage means to us, rather than opening up a celeb mag for a glossy pic of Brit with a "Juicy" symbol on her butt and K-Fed smokin a cig, at an LA night club, lovin it up, while their babies are home with one of many nannies, yes, that's love. I guess until Kelly Clarkson or one of the Carter boys gets married, we will just have to pretend that we too know what love is all about, yo, dog, yo, fool, yo, yo, whudup G.