Sometimes I’m a slave to my own brilliance. When you’ve a reputation for putting a unique spin on things, the less than brilliant people expect you to deliver with style and individual flair. And so it came to pass that we invited Thirsty Dave and Scurvy Jane over for dinner. Because I didn’t get Jill Y any shoes this week, part of my punishment was to prepare the food. Now I don’t know about you but I’ve eaten food before and while the experience was good, it wasn’t exactly something that Oscar nominated films are made of. Creative thinking is my thing so it didn’t take long whip up the major talking point of the evening:
Bill Y, if you were a caterer and did this for your entree, you would never care how many shoes Jill Y bought. You would be rich beyond Bon Jovi rich!
Now I think I know what you mean Don Don’s but that woman can look at a book on the fundamentals of geomorphology and still end up finding a way to buy shoes!
A french fry never had it so good. Yummmmm. Precessed ketchup
The call it “The Night of the McKetchup Fountain”. Now I personally don’t think it’s a very inventive description but what can you do?