"Mom?"
"mmm, yeah? What?"
"um... Daddy's drinking ranch dressing."
*blink*
*blinkblinkblink*
"He's what?"
"He's drinking the ranch dressing. Pouring it in his mouth. Swallowing. DRINKING. THE. RANCH. DRESSING."
......<---(that'd be me, walking to the kitchen to take a look)
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"Eating chicken."
"Are you DRINKING ranch dressing? Like, as a beverage?"
"There's no food."
"You just said you were eating chicken!"
"Yeah."
....<----(that's me again, walking back to my computer)
"Dear Brother Mark: Please find me a goddamn place to live, and soon. The Mad Hatter has finally gone 'round the bend. Love, your sister, Alice."
The End
Friday, September 19, 2008
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6 comments:
Ugh. That's foul. I'd rather starve. Or drink raspberry vinagrette.
I wonder how that tastes....SOUNDS good.
Was he high?
No. Seriously.
WAS HE HIGH?
for the love of god.
Must be really good ranch dressing?!
Dude. McDonalds...99 cent McChicken to go with that ranch!
haha!
God, I bet you can't wait to get outta there! Ranch sounds kinda artery clogging, though, ya know? wink wink
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