Speaking of Edward Asner, which one of you bitches ate my leftover corned beef and cabbage? Because I was saving that for lunch tomorrow—and now I’m going to have to make due with, like, herring and a pudding cup.”
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Peyote? No, why do you / they / she askeddddds?
“Asner” isn’t even an Irish name. I don’t know why he would go for the corned beef and cabbage….
On the other hand: herring and pudding cup!
Dude my bad. I thought you were done with that.
Sorry about the corned beef.
But I didn’t touch the cabbage. Never do, unless my brother is coming to visit and I need to gas him out of the house.
On the bright side, if the need arose, you could chop down the largest tree in the forest with that lunch. So you’ve got that going for you.
Now that is protein wisdom.
One day, the world will wake from its bourgeois slumber and recognize the depth of my genius!
Oops. Change “genius” to “penis.”
My bad.
To the bone!
(Peyote? No, why? Am I painted like that naked Indian in The Doors or something? And even so, so…?)
Mmmmmmm, herring and a pudding cup.
Maybe on a nice crusty roll, some dijon mustard, and, what, a bottle of Boone’s Farm apple wine?
Strawberry.
Always strawberry.
Wasn’t me, might have been Meathead.
Wasn’t me, I don’t eat leftovers.
My cats are making noise from both ends, however.
Hmm, pudding, that makes me think of a story. I was at Taco Bell the other day, not doing much, just biding my time with a Crunchy Gordita something until the DTs finally subsided, when in walked a 3’6”, 450 pound woman. And it struck me, with her stature, I couldn’t figure out whether she was a “Little Person” or maybe possibly a “Person of Size.” I would hate to get my PC euphemisms mixed up, and I don’t see how anyone could be both of those things, could they?
I’ve got some leftover lasagna here. would that work for you?
I think it’s still politically correct to refer to such a person as a “Volvo coupe,” Chuck.
Ah, but the strawberries! That’s where you had them. They laughed at you and made jokes, but you proved it beyond the shadow of a doubt, and with geometric logic.
Is the Sol beer gone too?
Not that I knew it was there or anything… hey, maybe the sure case of rats ass the thief has by now will be a consolation (and the lack of same for you).
Well, I gotta go buy some ass creme… just because… dammit I hate my Irish ancestors.
tw: hour31 of rats ass….
I’m not sure whether the Strawberry Boone’s Farm proves your bad taste or Brautigan’s. Besides, any real hippie would know that Strawberry came late to the party.
Sorry Jeff. My bad
Mushrooms, then? Really, you’ll want to mix in some fiber.
Living is easy with eyes closed
Misunderstanding all you see
Its getting hard to be someone, but it all works out
It doesnt matter much to me
The herring is Paul?
Beggoracle! I’ll kick him in the asner, I will! Hold me back, boyos! Hold me back, or there’ll be murderin’!
Miii-ssterr Grra-a-nnt!
I smell flatulence.
Ah, I love waking up to this sort of nonsense….
tw: No, I have no point28. Why do you ask?…
I was just down by his family’s scrap yard on James St in KCK last night. I coulda kicked in the door to inspect for any illicit corned beef, had I only seen this in time. Ah, lost opportunities…
Chuck: “Refrigerator with a head” would be my choice in that case.
Is it bad or sad that my first thought on seeing “naked Indian” was “Wayne’s World II”. Yes, I realize that movie was referencing “The Doors”. It’s just that I liked WWII better…
It was Collins! I seen him!
I HATE spunk!!!!!
You’ll never take me alive, boys!
SIZIST!
Hokay!
(Bang bang bangety-bang!)
Ah. The last words spoken by half the suspects pursued by Bangladesh’s Rapid Action Battalion.
The other half? They lead the RAB to their hideout, get shot while trying to escape, and are found to have “a shutter gun and round of bullet” hidden nearby.