small brush shouldn't fuck with big timber

Death's Door, the view from the Spanish announcers table: <strong>cookies</strong>

Wednesday, February 4

cookies

You know what sticker shock is? It’s when you finally get your Girl Scout cookies in months after placing the order over drinks at the bar. And you realize that your greedy drunk ass had ordered damn near fifty fuckin dollars worth of goddamn cookies. Never, I repeat never, let your friends talk you into ordering Girl Scout cookies whilst drinking in a dark bar. It’s like waking up in the morning and finding your pants on the front porch, and after looking at your bar tab, feeling very scared cause you’re just not sure what happened. And speaking of friends, the other night around two in the morning my phone rings, jarring me awake from a deep sleep. The ID tells me its Mito on the other end so I pick it up thinking that something’s wrong or maybe it’s a late night booty call. Cause you know the RULE. If they call after eleven PM it’s all about the ass. Here’s a condensed transcript of that phone call.

“Hello”?
Hi, are you watching TV”?
“What”?
“There’s a special on A&E on wrestling”
“What”?
“Were you asleep”?
“What”?

Then the other day Michelle tells me that her nipples hurt because she’s pre-menstrual. The next day I decided to e-mail her.
“I must be having sympathy pains cause my nipples are hurting too”.
“Wait”.
“Never mind, it was just me pinching em”.
“Whew, I’m so relieved”.

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