Partner: "I'm a bit concerned about you blogging so much."
Hasarder: "But I don't blog that much! Don't you like me writing?"
P: "No, I like you writing. I think it's great you have an outlet for your writing. I'm just a bit worried that you spend too much time reading blogs. Every morning when you get up you check the blogs, and again every evening."
H: "But if I wasn't reading blogs I'd just be reading books all the time. What's the difference?"
P: "I just worry that you'll spend so much time on your bloggy mates that you won't go out and make friends here, that you'll just become a computer geek with a virtual life and virtual friends."
H: "That's ridiculous! You're over-reacting!" etc etc. Cue small argument. Cue Hasarder storming out in a huff.
A bit later in the day, it was really warm. I went to change my shirt, grabbing the first one that came to hand. Then I crawled back in to Partner, looked at him with puppydog eyes. He wrapped his arms around me and then looked down at my shirt. He raised his eyebrows.
Only then did I realise which shirt I'd picked.
Across the tits was written www.don't give a fuck.com