After all he put me through, I can still hear him say “You’re my back-that-ass-up plan” every time I use the term “back-up plan”.
If I use “Plan B”, I think of really nomalicious (LOOK! I coined a new word!) burgers at this restaurant in Glastonbury, CT and that makes me both hungry and sad. (They’re too far away for satisfying the craving…)
AND… to further add to the nuts driving, after I hear him say “back-that-ass-up plan”, freaking “I’m Yours” comes on whatever musical device I’m listening to.
Boys. Are. Stupid.