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Old 08-30-2010, 10:17 AM   #121
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Quote:
Originally Posted by *InThisMoment*

He always brought home milk on Friday.

After a long hard week full of days he would burst through the door, his fatigue hidden behind a smile. There was an icy jug of Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz in his right hand. With his left hand he would grip my waist - I was always cooking dinner - and press the cold frostiness of the jug against my arm as he kissed my cheek. I would jump, mostly to gratify him after a time, and smile lovingly at him. He was a good man, a wonderful husband who always brought the milk on Friday, Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz.

Then there was that Friday, the terrible Friday that would ruin every Friday for the rest of my life. The door opened, but there was no bouyant greeting - no cold jug against the back of my arm. There was no Tuscan Whole Milk in his right hand, nor his left. There came no kiss. I watched as he sat down in a kitchen chair to remove his shoes. He wore no fatigue, but also no smile. I didn't speak, but turned back to the beans I had been stirring. I stirred until most of their little shrivelled skins floated to the surface of the cloudy water. Something was wrong, but it was vague wrongness that no amount of hard thought could give shape to.

Over dinner that night I casually inserted,"What happened to the milk?"
"Oh,"he smiled sheepishly, glancing aside,"I guess I forgot today."

That was when I knew. He was tired of this life with me, tired of bringing home the Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz. He was probably shoveling funds into a secret bank account, looking at apartments in town, casting furtive glances at cashiers and secretaries and waitresses. That's when I knew it was over. Some time later he moved in with a cashier from the Food Mart down the street. And me? Well, I've gone soy.

LOL
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Old 08-30-2010, 10:18 AM   #122
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Why don't you save that pronographic FILTH for that other board you frequent!
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Old 08-31-2010, 02:19 PM   #123
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Quote:
Originally Posted by MaydayMalonesGirl
same! about to begin my sophomore year of college in a few days, moving in saturday. still going to suny purchase for one more year, which sucks but it should be fun anyways. planning to transfer hopefully down to north carolina next year so i can become a meteorology major (TF! where you at?!).
OMGahhh no way! That's wicked awesome. Maybe you'll be on the TV someday. Suck it, Al Roker.
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Old 08-31-2010, 02:22 PM   #124
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Quote:
Originally Posted by *InThisMoment*
lol
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Old 08-31-2010, 02:24 PM   #125
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Quote:
Originally Posted by *InThisMoment*

He always brought home milk on Friday.

After a long hard week full of days he would burst through the door, his fatigue hidden behind a smile. There was an icy jug of Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz in his right hand. With his left hand he would grip my waist - I was always cooking dinner - and press the cold frostiness of the jug against my arm as he kissed my cheek. I would jump, mostly to gratify him after a time, and smile lovingly at him. He was a good man, a wonderful husband who always brought the milk on Friday, Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz.

Then there was that Friday, the terrible Friday that would ruin every Friday for the rest of my life. The door opened, but there was no bouyant greeting - no cold jug against the back of my arm. There was no Tuscan Whole Milk in his right hand, nor his left. There came no kiss. I watched as he sat down in a kitchen chair to remove his shoes. He wore no fatigue, but also no smile. I didn't speak, but turned back to the beans I had been stirring. I stirred until most of their little shrivelled skins floated to the surface of the cloudy water. Something was wrong, but it was vague wrongness that no amount of hard thought could give shape to.

Over dinner that night I casually inserted,"What happened to the milk?"
"Oh,"he smiled sheepishly, glancing aside,"I guess I forgot today."

That was when I knew. He was tired of this life with me, tired of bringing home the Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz. He was probably shoveling funds into a secret bank account, looking at apartments in town, casting furtive glances at cashiers and secretaries and waitresses. That's when I knew it was over. Some time later he moved in with a cashier from the Food Mart down the street. And me? Well, I've gone soy.
This great piece of literary gold has brought tears to my eyes. I can read no more. All other pieces of reading are now spoiled next to its magic.
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Old 08-31-2010, 05:19 PM   #126
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Quote:
Originally Posted by *Pleasant Tomorrow*
This great piece of literary gold has brought tears to my eyes. I can read no more. All other pieces of reading are now spoiled next to its magic.
I'm glad someone else feels the way I do.
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Old 08-31-2010, 05:39 PM   #127
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a beautiful tale for sure.
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Old 08-31-2010, 09:04 PM   #128
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WHERE'S JOE FFFUUU

I have groundbreaking developments regarding a life changing event.
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Old 08-31-2010, 09:05 PM   #129
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LOL NVM he just signed on.
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Old 09-01-2010, 03:10 AM   #130
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Quote:
Originally Posted by *InThisMoment*
WHERE'S JOE FFFUUU

I have groundbreaking developments regarding a life changing event.
congrats on your promotion - you really earned it this time!
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Old 09-01-2010, 04:28 AM   #131
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Quote:
Originally Posted by robyrob
congrats on your promotion - you really earned it this time!
Thank you.
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Old 09-02-2010, 02:11 AM   #132
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WPkDFPmRSqU

best Emmys opening EVER.
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Old 09-02-2010, 08:52 PM   #133
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rgUrqGFxV3Q
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Old 09-02-2010, 09:02 PM   #134
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Quote:
Originally Posted by *InThisMoment*

He always brought home milk on Friday.

After a long hard week full of days he would burst through the door, his fatigue hidden behind a smile. There was an icy jug of Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz in his right hand. With his left hand he would grip my waist - I was always cooking dinner - and press the cold frostiness of the jug against my arm as he kissed my cheek. I would jump, mostly to gratify him after a time, and smile lovingly at him. He was a good man, a wonderful husband who always brought the milk on Friday, Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz.

Then there was that Friday, the terrible Friday that would ruin every Friday for the rest of my life. The door opened, but there was no bouyant greeting - no cold jug against the back of my arm. There was no Tuscan Whole Milk in his right hand, nor his left. There came no kiss. I watched as he sat down in a kitchen chair to remove his shoes. He wore no fatigue, but also no smile. I didn't speak, but turned back to the beans I had been stirring. I stirred until most of their little shrivelled skins floated to the surface of the cloudy water. Something was wrong, but it was vague wrongness that no amount of hard thought could give shape to.

Over dinner that night I casually inserted,"What happened to the milk?"
"Oh,"he smiled sheepishly, glancing aside,"I guess I forgot today."

That was when I knew. He was tired of this life with me, tired of bringing home the Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz. He was probably shoveling funds into a secret bank account, looking at apartments in town, casting furtive glances at cashiers and secretaries and waitresses. That's when I knew it was over. Some time later he moved in with a cashier from the Food Mart down the street. And me? Well, I've gone soy.
Great story! I see you have been taking pictures out of my old photo album of my farm in early 2004
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Old 09-02-2010, 09:04 PM   #135
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Quote:
Originally Posted by [-Kelsey-]
Great story! I see you have been taking pictures out of my old photo album of my farm in early 2004
I guess we all know the real end to the story then. You ran off with MJF and took him to your Man Farm in Canada.

HOW DOES IT FEEL TO WRECK A MARRIAGE?
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