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Month: December 2018

Part Deux..Can You Just STFU?

As promised, Miss Verbal Diarrhea came back for dinner last night; but only because she and the boyfriend showed up with an eight-pound slab of beef filet which neither knows how to prepare. Now, don’t get me wrong, this gal isn’t all bad, but she can yap more than a chihuahua that’s pissed off at the mailman.
Sooooo… Bildo decides he’ll slice this beautiful piece of beefy glory into steaks, wrap ’em in bacon and put ’em on the gas grill. (It’s fuckin’ 35 degrees out there, but anything to get this over with ASAP)
I’m over here cutting tomatoes; preparing a salad; when she chimes in with, “I like my steak with sauce… you know, like dipping sauce? I eat everything with dipping sauce and lots of ketchup. I don’t like seafood because it’s pink. My Nanny always made us eat on the back porch. I might like bear meat… which kind do you like… brown or black? That’s a nice knife; all I have are the ones I took home from Shoney’s…. you know, the ones with squiggly edges? Your cat looks just like mine, except mine won’t shit in his litter box.”

Have you ever face-palmed yourself hard enough to knock yourself out?

Can You Just STFU?

I know we all have that one friend…. but this chick that just left my house talked for three and a half hours non-stop. I even made her a fuckin’ cheeseburger to try to stifle that mouth. She talked around it, over it, and through it. She’s coming back tomorrow for dinner, so it’s a very good possibility that sock I found in the back of my closet this morning ends up in her chowder.