My girlfriend, who I met at work, left after a year and a half to start a new job. It will be hard to find another girlfriend in the office. I have me eyes set on Michele who oversees payroll. I'm running low on sick days and want to expense an online subscription to the New York Times.
I will miss visiting my girlfriend's cubicle and handing her pretzels and making funny faces, like the time I pantomimed a blowjob when she was on the phone with a client.
When off the phone, my girlfriend would pop her head out of her cube like the groundhog from Caddyshack when she suspected I was flirting with another co-worker. Yes, I make small talk, but despite some friendly banter, I never once flirted with Scott.
She was a big help in the mornings toasting my English Muffins. It's like she always knew whose Jelly she could use without the person knowing.
My girlfriend now works at a private Catholic School. Instead of gossiping on Gchat with Alison, she is now hiding the fact that she is dating a Jew from Sister Barbara.
She is learning the school's code of conduct which she signed to accept the position. I'm hoping this code of conduct will apply to our relationship. She broke the code when she extended her leg and kicked me square in the balls.
She kicked me in the balls because I accidentally scratched her when I pretended to punch her in the stomach. She doesn't like when I act like her brother and try to play rough. I learned the hard way.
I yelled, cussed, and screamed. I am used to my balls being busted, just not kicked. It was so shocking I wondered what other women would inflict such pain to their loved ones.
I can't imagine my mom slipping on her Tom's to kick my dad in the nuts.
My girlfriend felt so ashamed she cleaned my apartment, cooked me dinner, bought me beer. I hope she kicks me in the balls next month.
When I came home from the Clipper game my girlfriend wanted to fool around. I had just eaten a Skyscraper dog. “I'm sorry,” I told her. "I've got nothing left in the tank."
I felt like I played 48 minutes against the Timberwolves. I needed a hot towel over my head. She didn't understand. “Come on.”
“You don't understand. The Skyscraper makes the Dodger Dog look like a pig in a blanket.”
I learned my lesson after getting cockblocked by a hot dog. This thanksgiving I'm only eating cranberry sauce.
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