"Thanks for the sex, boys!"
Tonight, Jeff and I are going to see Bloody, Bloody Andrew Jackson on Broadway. We got the tickets for free (thanks, Dad and Lisa!), which is the only way I can get Jeff to go to a musical, even if it is full of testosterone, gore, and history.
Yesterday morning I tried to make him see the light.
Me: At least it's not Boring, Boring Millard Fillmore.
Jeff: Yeah, or Shitty, Shitty James Buchanan.
Jeff: Or Rapey, Rapey Warren Harding.
Me: Wait, what?
Jeff: Or Slutty, Slutty Calvin Coolidge.
Me: Calvin Coolidge was a slut?
Jeff: Yes, I can't believe you don't know this. He slept with his entire cabinet!
Me: Even the men?!?
Jeff: They were all men!
Me: Wait, Calvin Coolidge was gay?
Jeff erupts in laughter. I wait for it to subside.
Me: Okay, but seriously, who did Warren Harding rape?*
*Note to anyone as gullible as me: the answer, obviously, is no one. I don't want to start a scandal.