I'm afraid ...



... my new next door neighbor Jean Michel doesn’t get my refined humor, not before I give him  a clue - with a smile or a cupped hand on a  shoulder. I ask him how his day was - and he says he’s about to work from home more often. I ask him what he does - retail for a French company - which makes sense cause he’s from the land of ooo la la. I ask him if he cross dresses and he says do I what? Crossdress . Oh no - so serious face. I break the ice and make sure he knows I’m playing, giving it to him. Maybe I'm  channeling dad - dumb American old white guy humor. I got a million of ‘em. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

easter

Papa Dearest and ...

Bye