Deadbeat neighbor: “What about this rain, eh? Cold as a witch’s tit out here.”
Me: “Yup.”
Deadbeat neighbor: “By the way, I do know who John Kerry is. He’s that dude running for president. Don’t know about the asshole part, though.”
Me: “Well, you’ve got until November to figure that out.”
Deadbeat neighbor: “Yup. Hope to have the furnace fixed by then, too.”
Were your neighbor not a deadbeat, perhaps he would have known that the proper expression is, “Cold as a witch’s firm, rosy-tipped breasts.”
I’m surprised your neighbor even bothers to talk to you. Who wants to chat about politics all the time?
He brought it up.