It's a guy thing.
There is no rational thought pattern connected with it, and you have no chance at all of making it logical.

Can I help with dinner?
Why isn't it already on the table?

Uh huh / Sure, honey / Yes, dear.
This means absolutely nothing. It's a conditioned response.

It would take too long to explain.
I have no idea how it works.

We're going to be late.
Now I have a legitimate excuse to drive like a maniac.

Take a break, honey, you're working too hard.
I can't hear the game over the vacuum cleaner.

That's interesting, dear.
Are you still talking?

It's a really good movie.
It's got guns, explosions, fast cars, and beautiful women.

That's women's work.
It's difficult, dirty, and thankless.

You know how bad my memory is.
I remember the theme song to 'F Troop', the address of the first girl I ever kissed and the Vehicle Identification Numbers of every car I've ever owned, but I forgot your birthday.

I was just thinking about you, and got you these roses.
The girl selling them on the corner was a real babe.

Oh, don't fuss. I just cut myself, it's no big deal.
I have actually severed a limb, but will bleed to death before I admit I'm hurt.

Hey, I've got my reasons for what I'm doing.
And I sure hope I think of some pretty soon.

I can't find it.
It didn't fall right into my outstretched hands, so I'm completely clueless.

What did I do this time?
What did you catch me at?

I heard you.
I haven't the foggiest clue what you just said, and am hoping desperately that I can fake it well enough so that you don't spend the next 3 days yelling at me.

You know I could never love anyone else.
I am used to the way you yell at me, and realize it could be worse.



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