Because III Isn't Enough...

The Man: "Oh by the way, I need to start wearing white mock turtlenecks under my uniform, so can we buy some of those?"
Me: "Ok. Do they need to be anything specific? Like Under Armour or something?"
The Man: "No, just white. But Under Armour would be nice. I sweat so much with my vest on, I need something to absorb it. Under Armour helps whisk it away."
Me: "I think you mean wick."
The Man: "No, I meant whisk. Like, to take away."
Me: "Whisk means to be swept off your feet, like Prince Charming whisked her away to a far away land."
The Man: "My sweat will be whisked away and swept off my armpits."
Me: "Seriously. It's a wicking fabric. Not a whisking fabric."
The Man [gets a dictionary]: "Whisk: to move nimbly and quickly."
Me: "Whatever. It's wick."
The Man: "A wick is what's in a candle."
Me: "It's a wicking fabric! I'm going to look it up."
The Man: "Fine. But my sweat will move nimbly and quickly."

The Man [in bed {gaseous expulsion}]: "You're welcome."
Me: "For what? Your fart?"
The Man: "I turned away so that I wouldn't fart on you."
Me: "You're so kind."
The Man: "That's why I said, 'You're welcome.'"

The Man: "If I were to put you in full guard and wrap up your arms, do you think you could escape?"
Me: "I don't know."
The Man: "Let's try it." [throws me on the ground, puts me in full guard, and wraps up my arms] Ok can you get out?"
Me: "Not really. And I can't breathe."
The Man: "You're not supposed to be able to."
Me: "This is not fun."
The Man: "Defensive tactics aren't always fun."
Me: "This wasn't my choice!"
The Man: "You gotta fight back."
Me: "Can we eat dinner instead?"
The Man: "Once you try to get out."
Me: "Seriously, can't breathe."
The Man: "I'll loosen up a bit."
Me: "Must we grapple every night? Why can't we just sit down and have a nice dinner?"
The Man: "We will. Just defend my rear naked choke first..."

Throw in some ho ho's and a few episodes of Dexter, and you've got Tuesday night.