KEITH URBAN: G’day, babe.
NICOLE KIDMAN: Hello, sir. How can I help you?
KEITH: Ha! Cute, Nic.
NICOLE: … Keith? My goodness, without your chest showing I didn’t recognize you!
KEITH: I know, right? I didn’t either. I had to write my name on the mirror before I got dressed.
NICOLE: Well, it’s nice to see you, as I hate to do these things alone.
KEITH: I know! If only I’d gotten here sooner to give you some advice.
NICOLE: On?
KEITH: Well, I’m not sure about the dress, love.
NICOLE: But you love me in blue!
KEITH: I do, love, but I don’t always love you in sparkles that from a distance look like some rogue Christmas tree tinsel is holding your breasts for ransom. Or lace.
NICOLE: I wish you’d mentioned that at home, when I popped out of the closet and said, “Sweetie, how are you on tinsel hostage situations?”
KEITH: Also, the hemline. You’ve got great legs! You can go a LITTLE higher, you know?
NICOLE: I AM A LADY.
KEITH: I don’t mean Tila Tequila high, silly. Just, you know, a tiny bit more Reese Witherspoon than Diane Keaton, that’s all.
NICOLE: Well. Next time you swan out with your shirt open to your waxed navel, YOU WILL HEAR ABOUT IT.
KEITH: It’s only fair, love. It’s only fair.

Hey, look, I forgot the poll at first! WHAT ELSE IS NEW.

  • Love this. (18%, 1,703 Votes)
  • It needs improvement. (48%, 4,712 Votes)
  • It needs improvement in the sense that it needs to go away. (34%, 3,302 Votes)

Total Voters: 9,718

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