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Every girl will, at some stage in a relationship, ask her beau, “Do you really love me?” The scenario most frequently continues thus:
For ten minutes there is complete silence. Then the girl begins to panic.
She thinks, “He’s annoyed. I should never have asked him that. He’ll think I’m trying to force him into marriage. He doesn’t know what to say. He obviously doesn’t love me, for if he did, he would have answered straight away. Oh no! I’ve really done it now. This is the last time I’ll ever see him.”
Meanwhile the object of her desire is struggling with the thorny question, “Where can I get those 12mm screws I need to finish building my pool table?”
[b:3cf9c46f9b] I [/b:3cf9c46f9b][b:3cf9c46f9b]t[/b:3cf9c46f9b]hink,[/color:3cf9c46f9b] [i:3cf9c46f9b][b:3cf9c46f9b]D[/b:3cf9c46f9b]BSK.[b:3cf9c46f9b]i[/b:3cf9c46f9b]s [b:3cf9c46f9b]s[/b:3cf9c46f9b]o [b:3cf9c46f9b]c[/b:3cf9c46f9b]ute! [/i:3cf9c46f9b]:]
[img:3cf9c46f9b]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v179/JjReiZhAxP/junsu-1.gif[/img:3cf9c46f9b]
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