Last night I went out drinking (!) with Tim, Mike and Brendan. Everyone knows what it is like to drink all night and get this ravenous hunger at the night's end. So, Mike says "I have cheese at my place. Oh my god, I have SO MUCH CHEESE.You don't even know how much cheese I have son."
Tim: Great, we can have cheese and crackers.
Mike: Oh Shit, I have no crackers
Tim: We NEED crackers. You can't have cheese and crackers with out...crackers.
Mike: You're right, and now I really want crackers.
And so off they went to the only deli open at 2 a.m. to get some crackers. You'd think they fucking finished scaling the Alps the way they beamed:
Brendan refused to partake in the search for crackers, and walked back to the apartment to have some wine.
Since when did Brooklyn become, like, the fucking Hamptons? Cheese and crackers and wine? What are we, 65 years old and avid listeners of classical music?
My Aunt is here and has already begun stocking the fridge, indiscreetly, with prune juice and wanting to talk about her "feelings".
And since it was such a big hit last time, we decided to take more degrading photos of my father and post them on the internet. These were taken right after a conversation that went like this:
Me: Dad, have you ever heard of girls and corpses?
Dad: What? girls and what?
Me: Corpses. Girls and corpses.
Dad: What's wrong with you?
Me: I'm sorry, I didn't hear what you said, I'm being blinded by your extremely red Christmas shirt.
You should be a model, you like, totally speak to the camera.
copyright Jane Callahan 2005