The other night I dreamed that I was forced to become an exotic dancer. It was awful. I told JJ this and he laughed. But then a couple of nights later he was in a semi-delirious state (which he often gets in and which I find endlessly amusing) and said, "Don't become an exotic dancer."
"Because they'll make you get new boobs."
I didn't know whether to be flattered that he didn't want me to have better boobs, or offended that he doesn't think my boobs are good enough for the exotic dancer lifestyle (though I know for a fact they're NOT!). I went with the former. He loves me the way I am, and that's all I care about.