Newman!

The other day, Pop Quiz Kid blogged about our blog friend meet-up. In this post, she referred to Nordic Boy and I as "the Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward of the internet."

Call me easily flattered, but this compliment put me in a good mood for at least 48 hours straight. Ok, maybe the buzz is still going. That is such a kind thing to say. And fook yeah I am going to eat that shit up, no question. What I am about to say will prolly make you think I am a horrible person, but I am not one to feel embarrassed by a compliment. I just think they are nice, and I don't get them very often, which I don't think is unusual, because people aren't usually of the awesomeness caliber that Pop Quiz Kid is. So if you want to say something nice about me, I WILL TAKE THAT. I won't duck my head or feel weird about it. I will say thanks and skip to my lou. Or is that loo? I would rather it be skipping to my lou. I imagine myself skipping toward Mr. Lou Grant from the Mary Tyler Moore Show. Much better than skipping to my loo, which is just a fancy word for the crapper. Although skipping to Mr. Grant is sort of creepy, I suppose. Why would you skip to him?

ANYWAY.

I don't go around tooting my own horn about a compliment I have received (except, uh, right now, to the interwebs), but I had to tell Nordic Boy about that one, as the compliment was to him too.

Me: Pop Quiz Kid said that we were like Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward.
Him: Because we make spaghetti sauce for charity?
Me: We don't make spaghetti sauce for charity.
Him: So you're saying the comparison makes no sense.
Me: No. I'm saying: wasn't that a kind thing to say?
Him: So... we're old? Because, they were famous for being together for a long time. Until they were old.
Me: No. We are, you know... Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward-esque. Power coupley.
Him: (super skeptical face)
Me: Or something.
Him: A couple, yes. But a power couple? We don't even power WALK.
Me: Ok, but you have nice blue eyes. Although I sort of want to be Paul Newman. You can be Joanne Woodward.
Him: Why don't you want to be Joanne Woodward? What's wrong with being Joanne?
Me: Nothing. I just want to be the race car driving hearthrob.
Him: But you don't even like driving. And I usually make the spaghetti sauce.
Me: Will you stop it about the spaghetti sauce?
Him: Whatever. I am happy with being Joanne. You can be Paul.
Me: Thanks.
Him: So, when I see you, can I say "Newman!" like Seinfeld does?
Me: No! I don't want to be that Newman.
Him: Fine.
Me: You think Paul and Joanne had conversations like this?
Him: Obviously.