|Ugh. I just. He’s just. Dreamy
I’m sure he loves puppies too.
The other night my husband and I went on a date. Yes, an actual date. Well, sort of. Now that I think about it, he didn’t pick me up at the door and I certainly didn’t get flowers. I guess that’s fair because I didn’t put out.
We decided to go to one of those swanky theaters with the super comfy seats and menus with real food. Not that a three pound bag of Skittles and a gallon bucket of popcorn aren’t real food. They totally are. Throw in a box of fish sticks and some applesauce and that’s what got me through college.
The movie selection for our date night was “Gangster Squad.” Since Matt reviews movies, he already saw it and knew I would like it. I also knew I would like it, but for a different reason. That reason’s name? Ryan Gosling.
Excuse me one minute. I need to wipe the drool off my chin. And off my computer. Oh crap, it’s on my shirt too.
DISCLAIMER BEFORE YOU READ ANY FURTHER: I love my husband more than anything in the world. That was made perfectly clear by the fact I didn’t leave him when he first started wearing what he calls his “indoor/outdoor shoes.” The bottom is black rubber and the top is red felt that goes completely over the top of the foot. They look like shoes Peter Griffin wears.
When Matt first wore the horrendous concoction of craft supplies, I asked him why he liked them, and he said they were great because you could wear them both indoors and outdoors. I pointed out that was the beauty of ALL shoes, not just those made of faux fur. Instead of calling them “indoor/outdoor shoes,” I suggested he just call them “shoes.” I, on the other hand, will continue to just call them “ugly.” (On a totally unrelated note, those shoes have mysteriously gone missing.) END OF DISCLAIMER
Anyway, if I didn’t leave him when he busted out cartoon shoes, then you know I’m in it for the long haul. But there is something about Ryan Gosling. He’s just….he’s just a fine specimen of a person. I’m sure he’s really gentle and kind. I can totally tell by looking at him. You can tell a lot from a person’s abs eyes.
So I was persuaded to go to the movie because there would be food, drinks, waiters and Ryan. Oh, and my husband too. (Love you babe!)
I loved the film, and not just because of Ry-Ry, although that significantly contributed to my overall approval. Since it’s a gangsta movie (although not at all similar to TuPac’s “Gangsta Party”), there were lots of guns and shooting. A totally unexpected consequence of seeing the movie was my desire to shoot guns again. (Please recall I pretty much mastered the art of shooting when I went to a gun range this summer.)
A totally expected consequence of seeing the movie was my desire to see more of Ryan’s guns. And by guns, I mean biceps, and by biceps, I mean abs.
The date night was great, even if Ryan didn’t bother to throw a girl a bone and flash a pec or two. Despite this clear crime against cinema, I enjoyed myself, and also enjoyed the popcorn…and the soda…and the stir fry. Don’t judge. I’m recovering from surgery and need my strength.