The weekend
This post is so late because I have been busy, so sorry for the delay. It's good anyway.
On Saturday, I picked up Monk from Z-ville and brought him back for the weekend. Our trip back was great, and dinner with him was great, and I thought, "Holy hopscotch, Batman, I think this whole weekend could go just great!"
I spoke too soon, because soon after, one of his ex-girls, Smokey the Tank Top, showed up. Along with one of my friends--Florida. So, we were all playing Euchre when my friend, Florida, proceeded to fill Monk in on what an Arse-of-the-Most-Large-and-Terrible-Kind he was for ruining our relationship. I slowly began to slide under the table. Monk does NOT like to be told he is an Arse-of-the-Most-Large-and-Terrible-Kind, especially by a girl he doesn't know at all. He was turning purple--but Florida, oblivious to his ire, continued her rant, avenging all woman-kind in my name. It was bad. Monk avoided Florida, and subsequently, Me, the rest of the night, spending time instead, with Smokey. GRRR-eat! Way to go, Florida!
THEN--Smokey left, and I found an automatic-rifle b.b. gun. PERFECT!!!! I shot Monk in the bum until no bb's remained, then sweetly plopped down next to him on the couch. It was a pretty mature move on my part, with no possible backlash in sight, right?!
Wrong.
Somehow, Monk was prepared, and pulled from his pants pocket... a little bag of bb ammo. I quickly grabbed the gun, and a delightful wrestling match ensued.
Delightful, that is, until Florida decided to ONCE AGAIN COME TO MY AID, BECAUSE I OBVIOUSLY NEEDED IT, lept onto Monk, and... Ripped. His. Oldest and Favorite. Pair. of Jeans.
GAWD!
After Florida and Smokey the TankTop finally left--at midnight--things were good again. I apologized for Florida's actions, Monk said he knew I wasn't behind her crazed lunacy, and we spent a good couple hours talking.
Fade to black, cut to next morning.
I made the most amazing, wonderful, perfect breakfast of my life, where every dish turned out lovely and all at the same time, too! Bacon, sausage, french toast, eggs and coffee. MONK WAS IMPRESSED WITH MY BACON-COOKING SKILLS, WHICH HE CONSIDERS AN ART FORM! Take that, Smokey the TankTop, who only knows how to microwave!
read more about what happened later--it gets somuch better at janeh928@yahoo.com
This post is so late because I have been busy, so sorry for the delay. It's good anyway.
On Saturday, I picked up Monk from Z-ville and brought him back for the weekend. Our trip back was great, and dinner with him was great, and I thought, "Holy hopscotch, Batman, I think this whole weekend could go just great!"
I spoke too soon, because soon after, one of his ex-girls, Smokey the Tank Top, showed up. Along with one of my friends--Florida. So, we were all playing Euchre when my friend, Florida, proceeded to fill Monk in on what an Arse-of-the-Most-Large-and-Terrible-Kind he was for ruining our relationship. I slowly began to slide under the table. Monk does NOT like to be told he is an Arse-of-the-Most-Large-and-Terrible-Kind, especially by a girl he doesn't know at all. He was turning purple--but Florida, oblivious to his ire, continued her rant, avenging all woman-kind in my name. It was bad. Monk avoided Florida, and subsequently, Me, the rest of the night, spending time instead, with Smokey. GRRR-eat! Way to go, Florida!
THEN--Smokey left, and I found an automatic-rifle b.b. gun. PERFECT!!!! I shot Monk in the bum until no bb's remained, then sweetly plopped down next to him on the couch. It was a pretty mature move on my part, with no possible backlash in sight, right?!
Wrong.
Somehow, Monk was prepared, and pulled from his pants pocket... a little bag of bb ammo. I quickly grabbed the gun, and a delightful wrestling match ensued.
Delightful, that is, until Florida decided to ONCE AGAIN COME TO MY AID, BECAUSE I OBVIOUSLY NEEDED IT, lept onto Monk, and... Ripped. His. Oldest and Favorite. Pair. of Jeans.
GAWD!
After Florida and Smokey the TankTop finally left--at midnight--things were good again. I apologized for Florida's actions, Monk said he knew I wasn't behind her crazed lunacy, and we spent a good couple hours talking.
Fade to black, cut to next morning.
I made the most amazing, wonderful, perfect breakfast of my life, where every dish turned out lovely and all at the same time, too! Bacon, sausage, french toast, eggs and coffee. MONK WAS IMPRESSED WITH MY BACON-COOKING SKILLS, WHICH HE CONSIDERS AN ART FORM! Take that, Smokey the TankTop, who only knows how to microwave!
read more about what happened later--it gets somuch better at janeh928@yahoo.com
posted by kittybrunette at 4:31 PM
4 Comments:
Kudos on a very appropriate name for Smokey the Tank Top. May her lungs RIP (that stands for rest in purgatory). However I need explanation on Florida, because at first I thought you were talking about a certain bug-eyed friend of yours.
Personally I think Jackie & Donna are the best names ever! (Though Donna is spelled with the cursed "double N". Read comments on forthcoming letter).
Donna,
Oh, well, Florida is (you figured her name out) and she's called that because at her birthday party a couple of weeks ago, at HOWL AT THE MOON, she had too many jello shots and got drunk and barfed on Big Red's family room carpet--A BIG RED STAIN IN THE SHAPE OF FLORIDA STILL REMAINS!! thus, the name.
Interesting I had not heard of the vomiting incident. What did Big Red say/do? Very appropriate names for both of them.
Big Red was laughing like a maniac, until we realized days later that Florida is permanent. Now, he's not so happy
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