I was sitting at my computer, doing my music selection for the evening and settling down to patrolling flames and (attempting) some posts. As I'm checking out VGcats hilarious comics, my girlfriend walks in and asks if we're going out tonight.

'Sure' I said.

She then asks where, who, when, etc. So its with my mates, we might hit Cardiff Union but we're definetly down the Woodville for befores. We have a quick laugh around, trying to adjust the schedule and open a bottle of white wine. After acting out some Spaced quotes (great comedy, Brian is by far one of the best characters ever) I'm glancing at Media Player while it plays Tenacious D and she asks:

'So, whats my theme for tonight?'

I'm trying to think of something witty, and I shrug. Maybe Wonderboy?

'You know, let me know because I have to get changed quick!'

Eeep. Whats she expecting here? Something dashingly romantic, or is she trying to set a mood? Foo fighters is what I like before going out.

'Tribute, because we'll be waiting for that song on the Dance floor and it'll never come.' (Tribute is a Ten-D reference to Stairway)

'No, really. Whats my theme here? I got to know NOW!'

How did I piss her off? I didn't do it!

'Barbie girl?'

'#### you! How am I supposed to dress up like barbie?'

'I don't know! Do what you want!'

'Be serious! This is important!'

'Leave me alone, woman.'

*whap*

Turns out, she was trying to figure out what 'theme' her clothing was meant to be. ####, if I had themes to my clothes they'd be 'work' and 'not work'. Apparently, these people have wardrobes for all occasions. If its not 'rocky' enough, its got to be 'dancy'. Everytime I suggest a skirt, she screams at me because I'm trying to freeze her legs. After this night, I'm just going to swear off suggesting clothes. Its alien territory.

Yhorian.