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Pardon my French, the conclusion

Overheard at Applebee’s, lunchtime, June 1, cont.

Young woman wearing black beret: “Ugh. Pourquoi je mange ici? Et pourquoi le am j’a servi la nourriture par un paysan avec a pimpled le visage…? Just a salad, no dressing, then. And a glass of Chardonay.”

Waiter: “Kendall Jackson okay…?”

Young woman wearing black beret: “Fine, yes.”

Waiter: “Great, I’ll bring your wine right away. Oh, and compar

2 Replies to “Pardon my French, the conclusion”

  1. Homer says:

    Mmmmmmmmm . . . Brie-humping . . . mmmmmmm.

  2. Marble says:

    Holy poop on a stick batman. Briehumper!!!

    I’m at work busting a lung. That was the funniest thing I’ve read this side of Robert Fisk in a long time.

Comments are closed.