I called Jill Y and asked where she was. She told me she was out looking at shoes, as is usually the case. I told her she misunderstood my question and that I wanted to know where she was in terms of attaining an intensely sustained level of Bon Jovi hatred. She started going on about shoes, Jimmy Choos and her vision of a train of shoes called Choo-Shoes. Lately, she hadn’t been hating Bon Jovi at all and she knew she hadn’t got a foot to stand on but she sure did believe in the heeling power of shoes. There was only one thing to do…
Good one.
I think, taking a bite out of it was more than I could choo.
Oh Bill Y, mocking a pair of Choo’s is bad for the sole!
. . . Deb said archly.
I know, I learned the hard way and spent 23 days and 25 nights in the dog house as a result of this. I just wanted to make sure she got enough vitamin C and K. She tells me that shoe shopping provides this aplenty.
I myself shop carefully for shoes. If the shoes don’t comfortably accommodate the balls on the bottoms of my feet, I just don’t buy them.
The balls are where it hurts most, Bill.