Guys are weird.

Someone should have told me this before I lived with one.

Actually, a lot of people said it, but that’s beyond the point right now.

For example, he will seriously stare at the crock pot for an hour, if I let him, after he puts food in to make sure it’s started cooking.  He then has to shake it every couple of hours because he can’t seem to leave it alone.

He still chops veggies on a Styrofoam plate.  With a little knife.  It makes me laugh because it looks so uncomfortable yet he keeps doing it.  Then he’s amazed anytime I chop things and am done in a fraction of the time using a regular person knife and a cutting board.

He dislikes long pasta noodles.  I mean he’ll eat them, but he’ll usually complain about it for a minute.  He generally only likes rotini noodles.  Shame for him I rarely make them.  Poor thing.

He also has this weird infatuation with listening to my stomach gurgle.  This might be TMI, but whatevs.  You know how your stomach settles a little when you go to lay down, you probably barely notice it because I don’t really notice it.  But according to Devon my stomach is super active and full of sounds when I go to lay down to go to sleep at night.  And he thinks they’re funny to listen to.

Again he’s weird.

I blame his mother.  She didn’t tell me he was weird.

Yes, I’ve known him over a decade, that’s not the point.

I blame Lisa.  It’s all her fault.  She made him weird.  I blame her.

Totally logical.

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