My friend Cara recently came over. When she walked in my room, she noticed a small stack of Cosmopolitans sitting on the side table.
Cara: “Why do you have Cosmos in your room?”
Robbie: “Don’t know. Some bitch probably left them here.”
She flipped it over.
Cara: “It has your name on it.”
Robbie: “Alright. It’s mine. I thought it would make the girls that I bring to the yard more comfortable.”
Cara: “Maybe if this was a doctor’s office. Since when are you bringing girls to the yard?”
Robbie: “Well, not yet. But I’m featured in this month’s Cosmo’s 2010 Bachelor Blowout, so I figure the windfall will start sometime soon.”
She picked up the magazine and started flipping through furiously.
Robbie: “That’s Clint. I was originally trying to slip in as a Hawaii contestant, but I couldn’t compete with that bronzed bastard and his MacBook.”
Cara: “…are you sure you’re in here?”
Robbie: “Yeah, keep going.”
Robbie: “Ha, fucking Chris. His little hip line muscles prove how motivated he is.”
Cara: “You didn’t actually meet these guys did you?”
Robbie: “Oh, no. But we share a bond, being bachelors in the CBB 2010 edition. That son-of-a-bitch, always carrying around a soccer ball.” I chuckled to myself as I dampened my finger and turned the page.
Robbie: “This one. I think Luke might actually be a retard.”
Cara: “What’s the deal?”
Robbie: “The confused look, Fergie, law school, he wants to fly– I don’t know. That’s just the way I think the arrows point. Anyways, let’s keep going.”
Cara: “Alright, you might have a point. I’m so hoping you didn’t submit a shirtless photo.”
Robbie: “Had to. There was a 30% skin requirement. Ah, here I am.”
Cara: “…oh no.”
Cara: “I can’t start to explain how lost you are.”
Some others you might be interested in: