Justin, my incredible husband, does not watch sports on TV. (Exception being the Olympics.) ESPN is not programmed into our Direct TV menu. He avoids pro football and basketball and baseball and soccer and wrasslin'. He doesn't know stats or averages or even the player's names. He avoids Sports Illustrated!
That's a lie. He gravitates toward one issue a year. You know THAT issue.
He's thumbed through the swimsuit issues of Sports Illustrated plenty but in the whole 12 years of our marriage he's only purchased one copy. This copy is the Michael Jordan of all swimsuit issues. It resides in a special place on the bookshelf on Justin's side of the bed.
I've made an agreement with Justin. If Tyra Banks shows up at our door and says breathily, "Justin, you, me and a jar of vaseline, baby!" , he's allowed to go with her with my wholehearted consent. Have a good time and pick up a couple of gallons of milk on the way home.
Oh Tyra Banks, you million dollar bra wearing tart! Why do you attract my husband so? Sorry, dumb question. She's got a really fun personality.
Are you ladies still jealous?
Update! As of April 18th, 2008, it was voted that Tyra's sins were too great and has been stripped of her tart status. She may redeem herself in the future.