With my hands tied behind my back

It's after the party. The ballroom is littered and empty. I am naked. My hands are tied behind my back. There is no music. The band is long gone. Yet, still I dance. I dance with a smile.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Why Morelli is Morelli

I have this really good guy friend, Morelli. Morelli is a flat out hottie. He is absolutely one of the greatest men I know, and I only know a couple. This is why Morelli is Morelli:

Morelli tells me about this episode that happened at the hardware store the other day. He had gone in for some paint. He's standing at the paint counter w/ the clerk mixing his paint, when an obese woman walks by. The clerk makes a derogatory comment about how he can't stand obese women like that and blah, blah, blah, fat, fat, fat - apparently a whole one sided conversation on thin women and fat women.
Morelli stands there and waits for his paint. When the clerk finally hands him his mixed paint, Morelli looks at him and says "Well, at least that woman still has her own hair." He winks at the clerk and walks away. (Apparently the clerk had a bad toupee.)

That's my Morelli!