Is that you?


No, my weekend is not going well.

I split open my finger again.

Yeah. Same one.

On a cat food can.

I was hurrying, to meet the girls for breakfast.

I hung out with a dish towel wrapped around my finger, singing an old Police song:

I’ll be wrapped around your finger…..

As it continued to bleed, the tune changed to “Under My Thumb”. (Stones of course)

So, I missed breakfast.

But I still have my finger.

I am not good with injuries.

I have 4 band aids on this Mother, and every time I wash my hands, the damn things fall off.

I guess I should not have bought the Mickey Mouse band aids.

Saturday is usually my shopping day.

I made the supreme sacrifice and made it to the grocery store.

Then I hightailed it to see Kelly and a plate of garlic bread, with cheese and sauce.

Yeah, I brought my horse in with me.

After that, I cursed the rains in Africa, as I drove home and had to unload the car.

Do you know what it’s like to unload when you are loaded?

Anyway, Harv, after eating all that garlic bread and a few orange chasers, I took a look at my finger and decided I needed to give that finger a rest.

So, on this Sunday, a normal day of rest, I am washing clothes.

Where in the hell did all these clothes come from?




This isn’t Harvey?

What the hell?

You have some nerve, calling a wrong number.

By the way, what’s your name?

Joey Buttafucco?

Get out!

I think we may be related, Joey.

It’s me!

Chicken Buttafucco.







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