Razy Short: The Difference between Guys and Girls

[Raziel]

(My beautiful muse has been the inspiration for many of my stories...So it's only right for me to totally embarrass her by writing down all the many funny things she does. )

Tales of My Muse and I

The Difference between Guys and Girls.

Or

Why I can no longer have Slim Jims

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One rainy fall day, I am reclining with my beautiful source of literary inspiration. We flip aimlessly through the multitude of cable channels, before settling upon something weepy on Lifetime.

Slightly bored, I untangle myself from her to get a tasty snack. As I stand up, I remember that in my bag lies an unopened pack of Slim Jims.

ÔÇ£Mmm Slim JimsÔÇØ I drool silently. Desire set into my mind, I commence pillaging the hapless backpack. The ensuing noise, becomes so loud and ferocious that it distracts my lovely from her entertainment. (As if watching one person dying slowly can be called entertainment . . . but I digress.)

ÔÇ£What are you doing?ÔÇØ

ÔÇ£Need snack . . . Need Slim Jims . . . Slim Jims goooood.ÔÇØ I reply, sounding somewhat like a zombie.

ÔÇ£Oh. Slim Jims! Can I have one?ÔÇØ She asks, politeness filling her voice. I ponder this, on the one hand I could have four tasty Slims Jims all to myself. On the other hand, I have the keeper of my nookie to please . . . decisions . . . decisions.

I suppose she could see the debate raging in head, as she started to blink her large anime-sized eyes at me, in that ÔÇÿPuweaseÔÇÖ fashion.

ÔÇ£Okie. EnjoyÔÇØ I say, handing her one Slim Jim, before tearing into my Slim Jim, barely allowing enough time to remove the wrapper before my sink into the Slim Jimmy goodness.

ÔÇ£Slim Jim goooooodÔÇØ

She watches this scene with a mix of amusement and disapproval. With a light giggle, she un peels the tasty treat and takes a big bite.

*crunch*

Her eyes morph with sudden annoyance. The all too familiar gaze of ÔÇ£YouÔÇÖve done something really badÔÇØ falls upon me.

ÔÇ£Wha?ÔÇØ I say defensively.

ÔÇ£...Why is this Slim Jim crunchy?ÔÇØ

ÔÇ£ItÔÇÖs . . . a Slim Jim . . . You know ÔÇÿSnap into a Slim Jim!ÔÇÖÔÇØ

She redoubles the gaze, I find myself squirming like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

ÔÇ£Why? Is. The. Slim Jim . . . Crunchy?ÔÇØ

ÔÇ£It might be just a little, just a teensy, bit old.ÔÇØ

ÔÇ£How old?ÔÇØ she growls

ÔÇ£I found it in my things from the old dorm.ÔÇØ

My lovelyÔÇÖs face turned a strange mix of red and green.

ÔÇ£UUUUUUGGH. THAT WAS 2 YEARS AGO!!!!ÔÇØ she cries in bloody horror, making a mad dash for the bathroom.

Sitting on the floor, I ponder this. I gaze toward the bathroom, listening to her make various horrible sounds. My gaze turns to her tossed aside Slim Jim.

ÔÇ£Tastes okay to me. Slim Jim goooooooooooooood.ÔÇØ

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[Marc Wubbema]

OMFG! That's good