Friday, March 25, 2011

Two Men and a Truck.


image: The Sartorialist

A: I don't even care what he's wearing.

M: Oh, HI.

But...I am pretty sure he's wearing a smock made out of furniture moving blankets.

A: He is, but look how his shoulders (don't quite) fill out that moving blanket!

M: I need you to think long and hard about how he puts that on. Is it a pullover? Button up the back? And whats up with the decorative buttons?

A: Oh, I'm really thinking more about him taking it off. I'll cut him out of it if that's what it requires.

M: I am sorry. I am fully distracted by this coat....thing now. And the buttons! THE BUTTONS, ADRIEN.

A: Buttons? Look at THAT FACE.

M: All I can see is this:

A: Good lord, what the hell is wrong with you? Just BLUR YOUR EYES, MARIANNE. The buttons will hit the floor after I run my scissors through his moving blanket tunic! Then later I'll wear his jaunty scarf because it smells like him.

M: I'm sorry. I am broken.

A: Shhh, I'm mentally sliding my hands up under that tunic blanket coat. Sorry, is that TMI?

Wait, one of the commenters thinks he's wearing a jacket backwards. And oh my, maybe I change my mind about him:

Oh buddy, no:

M: I was just about to send you this:

He looks incredibly wee.

A: Did we just send each other the same photo? He's a hobbit, dude.

M: Jinx!

Yes! Clearly we are sharing a brain. Except your half thought he was hotter.

I will admit that my half thought he had a nice face, but now I know he could fit in my pocket, so.

A: The tiny-ness just kills it for me. I don't need a pocket man.

M: Can we just go back to talking about this?

A: YES. Did you tell the blog your story? I think you need to.

M: Oh! Well. He lived in my neighborhood in NY. For several weeks we would run into each other in shops, street corners, everywhere. Then one afternoon I walked into a bodega, he saw me and started laughing, and I told him that he had to stop stalking me. I don't understand why we aren't married? Or didn't make out. He is dreamy and tall, unlike Paul Rudd. Who I also have a story about. But that's for another day.

A: *sigh* I can't believe you didn't marry him on the spot. ON THE SPOT. Or at least make out. I mean, come on.

M: If I could go back in time and smack myself, I would.

A: So would I, dude. I mean, you had Liev Schreiber's FULL UNDIVIDED ATTENTION. And, you made him laugh! You were IN.

M: Really why didn't I just jump up on him and squeal "WE ARE MARRRREEEEEEEED!"

A: I think the key phrase there is "jump up" because he's so tall and broad. I'm crying now.

M: I am crying harder.

A: I'm telling.

M: We were meant to be.

A: I'm telling YOUR HUSBAND.

M: He will be like, "DUH. I'd hit that."*

*no, he would not.



*because then I would tell Kenny.


M: I'm glad we can agree to not tell our husbands about our pretend affairs with a celebrity.

A: I'm pretty sure mine doesn't even read the blog.

M: I'm not sure mine could tell you the title with a gun to his head.

A: I'll bet Liev would read it.

M: I bet he already DOES. Sigh.

A: Igor would too.

M: Of course he is named Igor. I need to lay down.

A: Me too.


  1. You guys are hysterical! and um yeah - what is up with the buttoned moving blanket???

  2. Hahaha! I was totally with Adrien on the first picture then you guys had to ruin it.

    Marianne, if I ever meet you irl, I'LL smack for not making out with Liev!

    Do you have any stories about Gabriel Garcia Bernal? Sweet lord have mercy!

  3. How hilarious would it be if I had a story for any celeb you could think of? Sadly, no.

  4. I mean Gael GarcĂ­a Bernal. I got a little hot and bothered there!

  5. I think I'm going to have dreams about Liev in that wetsuit.

  6. You guys need to start a podcast.

    NEEED to.

  7. Phil, she lives in KNOXVILLE. AND WON'T MOVE. Ugh. Ruining my life.

  8. thank you for making me laugh today
    i needed it!

  9. Thanks for this.
    You guys complete me.

  10. omg furniture moving blanket jacket!!!!!!!! I DIE.

    Also, I love Paul Rudd.