yin:  “Tell me:  what could be better than curling up on the couch with a glass of red wine and a really good book?” yang:  “Well, for starters, not having to hear you yammer on about it.  Anything else…?”

yin: “I’m worried about your cholesterol.  We need to switch to that Smart Balance spread instead of butter.  And is that salad dressing low fat?” yang:  “As a young man, I could kill a Kodiak bear with a rock and my teeth.  You know that, right?”

yin: “You know what you should post on the website?  Cat pictures.  Everybody loves cat pictures.” yang: “Go bake me a fucking pie, would you?”

yin: “Would you do me a favor, honey, and fetch me about a half teaspoon of those dried marjoram leaves from the pantry?  I’m experimenting on a traditional Cioppino, and I don’t want to overstate the sauteed garlic.” yang: “I understood ‘teaspoon.’ Beyond that?  All gibberish.”

So, now what?  Put up a fence?

yin:  “Would you mind stopping by the store on your way home and picking me up some tampons?” yang:  “Right.  And while I’m at work, how about you build me a fucking tool shed…”

yin:  “How come most of the players have soft hats on, while a few of the others are wearing helmets?” yang:  “Shut up.”

yin: ”When Harry Met Sally?” yang: “Sure.  And after that we can put on the cooking channel, then you can teach me to knit an afghan, then you can cut off my balls.  Or maybe we could just watch, say, Bullitt, instead.”

yin: “So. Bo Bice?  Or Constantine Maroulis…?” yang: “Give me a break, would you?”

yin: “For better or worse, remember?” yang: “Sure, I remember. Do you remember how perky your breasts were when I made that promise…?”