"Hope the Pats win. Not because I got a team in the game, my father-in-law has a bet. If the Pats win, he gets a hundred bucks. Lose, and he has to go into the super market dressed as a woman."
The guy walks away from the desk, and I turn and ask my coworker what kind of idiot takes that bet.
"If it's a small town, being dressed as a woman would probably be embarrassing." Pause for a second, a gentleman (I say that because my coworker claimed he was trying to solicit the help) walked to up to the desk with an Arby's sack. I'm sure you've all seen it, unless you are one of those spineless vegans.
Look, it ain't livin' unless something has suffered for your nourishment. I say nourishment, not decadence. No breathing entity should die in the name of gluttony. Pride is mine to claim because nothing suffered for my Caramel Apple Empinadas.
Be sympathetic to the cows? Come on. All female mammals who have given birth inevitably get sore nipples.
Great. Now I can't help myself. I must get on the equality soap box.
Dare I claim (dare, dare), to understand women because I have my nipples pierced? It's the closest any guy can get to the pain of lactating (next to doing a lot of steroids and having testicular cancer, see "Fight Club"). Embrace the nipple and tame the vegan. Now with that said, let us return to the idiocy of the person who took that bet.
$100 versus a drag show. The sad thing is the guy won't be paid to be a transvestite. That's the only tear I'd be willing to shed for him. He will not get said tear though because I just now remember that I meant to finish my sub-rant about a paper, fast food bag.
Okay. The sack had a stereotypical pretty, "I have sucked to get on this bag to make up for the death of my ambition and lack of super model beauty" face. On the sack, by the arianesque face was "I heart pepper bacon." That just pissed me off.
She doesn't love the bacon. You could see that because she only had one chin. She probably feels guilty when she eats that meat. The bag should say, "I bang pepper bacon every now and then, and occasionally it throws me cab fare before it kicks my ass out of bed."
If that ain't the definition of good looking girls nailing fat guys, what is? Perhaps if it was sausage.
Now that we've embraced the bacon and tamed the cunt, let us try to put some closure on the stupid gambler.
The father-in-law is a con man if he was comfortable with his sexuality. Dressing as a woman is not embarrassing, if you make the effort.
All you have to do is look like an ugly woman, and not a guy in a dress with sloppy lipstick. Watch Trainspotting as an example (who knows it may have been wonderful). The point is if you look like a woman, why would they suspect you?
If you are going to gamble, it's gotta be for currency. MAYBE WITH SOME FEEDBACK, like that sentence fragment screams for, we can come up with legitimate things to measure against cash.
Since I wrote the draft on paper, my ideas will have to wait for another blog. Damn, I'm a long-winded fuck up.
The father-in-law is a con man if he was comfortable with his sexuality. Dressing as a woman is not embarrassing, if you make the effort.
All you have to do is look like an ugly woman, and not a guy in a dress with sloppy lipstick. Watch Trainspotting as an example (who knows it may have been wonderful). The point is if you look like a woman, why would they suspect you?
If you are going to gamble, it's gotta be for currency. MAYBE WITH SOME FEEDBACK, like that sentence fragment screams for, we can come up with legitimate things to measure against cash.
Since I wrote the draft on paper, my ideas will have to wait for another blog. Damn, I'm a long-winded fuck up.
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