Well, once I fried tofu and put Sriracha on it. After that I was so depressed I swore off preparing food for myself altogether.
If my wife has too much to drink at a party, starts yapping a little too much, I don't have to say anything... three little leg squeezes, she knows that means 'Put a sock in it, drunkie, time for you to wrap it up.' Somebody didn't have dinner like I suggested, now you're spouting off at the mouth divulging all the family secrets. You need to pipe down or we've got to fucking leave.
I'm always alone. Sad face emoticon.
So I go back, reluctantly, down a murky hallway to what looks like a Dollar Store dressing room, and I open up the dirty curtain. There's a velvet Elvis on the wall with the eyes cut out - some weird sort of quality assurance program they're running in there. They got a dirty recliner they pulled off the street with duct tape on it - God knows what else. They got a bloody pipe on the floor. It's like a third world game of Clue.
I got distracted by one of the hippie moms who was breastfeeding a kid that was way too old to be breastfeeding. You ever seen that before? It's disgusting. A child should not be old enough to comment on the quality. Like, 'Do you go to Cheesecake Factory, because this is delicious. It's like dulce de leche meets Riesling coming out of this thing, and I've got to say thank you.'All quotes and jokes