Maybe I’m alone on this “perfect make up gift” idea, but no matter. The whole confirmation of the “married to a great man” thing happened yet again after a huge screaming fight on Friday night. Husband went to three different resale stores on Saturday morning to find and purchase this apology token. I don’t even know which disgusting disaster I should attempt to replicate first.
I guess not. Thumbs up for making that fish look like it’s pooping shrimp, though. That was a stroke of creative genius.
I was going to make a snide comment about how barfy it was when my mom put butter on my pb & j sandwiches but butter+thousand island dressing wins the Oscar for Most Unhappy Combination in a Michael Bay Movie even before the two varieties of canned fish, pickle, and onion consideration. Just fart into a bun, you’ll get the same results.
Also, here’s a counter-tip for the picnic-happy people…folks are already calling you ‘picnic-happy.’ Don’t exacerbate your current public image by pushing around a 2-wheel fold-up grocery cart.
*lowers newspaper* “Barbara, do you remember last summer when we went to the Millers’ for lunch and they served that lime Jell-o shit with the spattering of peas and tomatoes with some really ashamed-looking shrimp?”
“We should go egg their house.”
“I’ll get the dead raccoon out of the trash. Go start the car.”