I always reward myself with a double after shopping on a Saturday.
I was a little early today.
Why did the bartender have to pour me a triple?
Silly as a rabbit.
Talking to everyone, yap yap yap.
She said: “Hey, you’re not leaving already, are you? Why not have another?”
Ok, why not?
It was at that moment that my polar bear hat tassels fell into my face.
Yikes! Little Miss Muffet sat on a bar stool, drinking her oj and vodka. Along came a spider and scared the #%2%@%5@ out of her. Poor Miss Muffet, she is so easily fooled.
Can I have a meatball sub to go?
I am hungry as a spider monkey.
Did I say spider?
The lunch crowd stormed in, for pizza.
Yap, yap, yap.
Happy Valentine’s day, everyone. What’s your name? Who’s your daddy?
I see it out the window.
I have to ask everyone, as they come in: “Is it snowing?”
The crowd grows weary of my insanity.
They eat their pizza.
Where is my meat ball sub? Oh yeah, in the bag.
So am I.
Well, half, anyway.
Home again, home again, jiggity jig.
Carry the groceries upstairs.
My meat balls? Cold.
I love cold balls.
And they were big ones.
I love big ones.
I think I will go shopping early again next Saturday.
Or better yet, I will skip the shopping and just have a triple.