apple: “So, how was New York…?”
me: “Fine.”
apple: ”Fine, eh? You get a chance to talk to my friend Big Apple?”
me: “Briefly, yes.”
apple: “He’s one enormous fucking apple, isn’t he?”
me: “Yeah, I suppose.”
apple: “Huge. Powerful. Sinister, even…”
me:
apple: “Not to be trifled with, wouldn’t you say…”
me:
apple: “No sir. Not my friend the Big Apple. Wouldn’t want to piss him off –”
me: “– Okay, I get it. Now why don’t you tell me what it is you’re driving at?”
apple: “Me? Oh, nothing, really. Just that I could use a thorough buffing, is all… “
me: “Bastard –”
apple: “Tell you what: why don’t you run along and fetch a nice new Chamois cloth, then get your ass back here and polish me like you would a brass belt buckle.”
me:
apple: “…Or maybe you’d prefer I have a word with my enormous friend Big Apple, instead…?”
me: “No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll go find a goddamn Chamois cloth.”
apple: “– A new goddamn Chamois cloth. And get ready to put some muscle into it. Because when you’re done, I expect to be able to see myself in myself. Bitch.”
Damn. Meryl Streep was right. Alar can make these apples mean. Not to mention downright uppity.
Twisted,,,,,,,,,, very, very, Twisted. But fuck,,,,,,,, it sure is funny.
I’d rip the stem out of him quick if he wants a portrait done after you polish him up…
Just show him a ‘50s Home Ec baking video…followed up with the pastry penetration scene from Ammerican Pie.
Nothing shuts someone up like seeing their relatives sliced, cooked and then fucked into oblivion.
mmmmmm….Pie.
Hey Apple. Let’s find out if you’ve got any core values, shall we? That might be more worthwhile than your asking Jeff to fritter away his time polishing you. Personally I think you’re a half-baked wannabe dictator.
You’re an odd and wonderful man, Jeff. I used to have dreams like this when I was younger. Talking cats, plants throwing bushels of crops, geckos that laugh while throwing CD jewel cases…
I’ll bet you would never get that line of shit from a Granny Smith.
Why is it that you never win arguments with inanimate objects?
I’ve whipped this apple’s ass on more than one occasion.
Before he brought in reinforcements, though.
’Cause they always have to have that stupid last word.
chamois
<giggle>
I wish you could chamois like your sister Kate. She makes it shake like jelly on a plate. Mama axed me just the other night ‘I wonder why the boys treat Kate so right?’
They tell me that vengance is a dish best served cold. With a chilled riesling and a couple different types of stinky cheese. I’m just saying.
Man, this is embarrassing. I mean, I’ve actually recommended this blog to friends. Now it turns out you’re just another apple polisher.
‘Course, if you thought about this for even a freakin’ second, you’d realize there’s no way Big Apple could get his fat ass up into the mountains where you are; but no, you’d rather polish your puny little MacIntosh. I think you like being this apple’s bitch, don’t you, punk ?
And to think I used to comment here. Now I have to move away and change my name, again. Thanks for the let-down, chamois-boy.
Is that your chamois?
Yes, that chamois belongs to me.
Damn that’s funny. It makes me wonder if Gwyneth Paltrow can expect such conversations with her daughter, Apple.
You’d never get that kinda back talk from a Florida Orange. Damned Yankees.