Tom and I just watched AMV Hell 3 (again). (Highly recommended, but only if you've got a good handful of anime-watching under your belt. And tired/drunk/stoned.) There were several clips of girls with ridiculous boobs shooting guns, and then reloading those guns with bullets that magically fly out from between said boobs, and bounce off of said boobs into the gun. Tom immediately announces, "Oh I am SO watching that anime!"
Melissa, while always up for the completely ridiculous, is skeptical.

Tom: "Oh come on, honey, it'll be educational! You can learn how to bounce bullets off your boobs!"
Melissa: "Nooo, because my boobs are not made of rubber. We've had this discussion, you don't want me to have fake boobs."
Tom: "Well... if it meant you could bounce bullets off of them..."
Melissa: "Honey. You know me. Would you REALLY want ME handling a gun?"
Tom: *laughs* "Y'know... you can't even carry the teapot upstairs."
Melissa: "I KNOW."
Tom: "About as coordinated as a feather in a tornado."

I think that's pretty much the most apt metaphor ever.


[And now that I've typed all that, Tom's computer is being grumpy about playing mkv files, so YAY, no bullet boobs tonight!]

Labels: silliness